The Reluctant Countess by Eloisa James EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Eloisa James
- Genre: Medieval Historical Romance, Regency Romances
- Publish Date: November 29, 2022
- Size: 2 MB
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Avail for Download
- Price: Free
Nine Years Later
26, Clarges Street
Lord Wilbraham Boodle’s Annual Ball
March 23, 1816
For over a decade, Giles Renwick, Earl of Lilford, had watched with distaste
as acquaintances succumbed to lustful impulses that cast their lives into
chaos, if not catastrophe. At the age of thirty-two, he prided himself on a
private life as disciplined as his estate. He had never made a fool of himself
over a woman.
Until now.
Lady Yasmin Régnier was ineligible for his attentions in every way: not as
a wife, nor yet a mistress—she was a lady!—nor even as a friend, since they
vehemently disliked each other.
Yet here he was, blood pounding as he waited for the first waltz, which she
had promised to him. Meanwhile the lady was romping through a country
dance with Edwin Turing.
All polite society knew she’d turned down Turing’s marriage proposal,
along with those of at least eight others. Wasn’t it Shakespeare’s Juliet who
described Romeo as a bird with a string around his leg?
Other ladies dispatched rejected suitors to woo other women. Lady Yasmin
blithely kept her wooers on a string, thirsty for a smile or a waltz. It was
profoundly irritating to count himself among them—and scant relief that no
one in London realized that he was so . . . enchanted?
Was “en-lusted” a word?
No matter his obsession, Giles could never ask her to be his countess. Lady
Yasmin’s gowns were cut too low, and her skirts were dampened to cling to
admittedly lovely thighs. She loved to gossip—and giggle. She smiled and
flirted with everyone from new babies to elderly men with a foot in the grave.
It was rumored that she carried a small flask of brandy to balls, claiming to
hate lemonade.
She wasn’t dignified, or polite, or even truly British, given her French
upbringing. Not to mention the fact that her mother had been one of
Napoleon’s mistresses, a fact Yasmin made no effort to hide.
One of her silliest suitors had written a sonnet claiming her hair was the
color of cowslips and her eyes as violet as twilight. To Giles’s mind, her
beauty didn’t matter, though he appreciated her low bodices as much as the
next man. What caught him was her laugh, the way she shared joy so freely.
Yet asking her to be his wife was unthinkable.
Full stop.
He allowed himself to dance with her once an evening, always the first
waltz. Thereafter, he courted proper, eligible ladies, forcing himself to avoid
Lady Yasmin. Telling himself that he was searching for an appropriate
countess, as demanded by custom and tradition.
When the first waltz was finally announced, Giles made his way to her
side, bowing and kissing her gloved hand. His whole body relaxed as his arm
closed around her, and they moved into the dance.
With a start, he realized that she had burst into speech.
Then again, when wasn’t she chattering?
“Your sister is dancing with Lord Pepper,” Lady Yasmin told him with an
expectant glance.
“Yes?”
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