I received this book for free from in exchange for an honest review. This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.The Day of the Duchess by Sarah MacLean
Series: Scandal & Scoundrel #3
Published by Avon, HarperCollins on June 27th 2017
Genres: Fiction, General, Historical, Regency, Romance
Purchase Links: Amazon | iBooks | Kobo | Barnes & Noble | Google Play
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The one woman he will never forget…
Malcolm Bevingstoke, Duke of Haven, has lived the last three years in self-imposed solitude, paying the price for a mistake he can never reverse and a love he lost forever. The dukedom does not wait, however, and Haven requires an heir, which means he must find himself a wife by summer’s end. There is only one problem—he already has one.
The one man she will never forgive…
After years in exile, Seraphina, Duchess of Haven, returns to London with a single goal—to reclaim the life she left and find happiness, unencumbered by the man who broke her heart. Haven offers her a deal; Sera can have her freedom, just as soon as she finds her replacement…which requires her to spend the summer in close quarters with the husband she does not want, but somehow cannot resist.
A love that neither can deny…
The duke has a single summer to woo his wife and convince her that, despite their broken past, he can give her forever, making every day
THE DAY OF THE DUCHESS
Also in this series: The Rogue Not Taken
Also by this author: The Rogue Not Taken
In The Day of the Duchess, the incomparable Sarah MacLean returns to the tales of the Talbot sisters, aka The Dangerous Daughters. The quintet earned the moniker after the eldest daughter, Seraphina, trapped the Duke of Haven into marriage. Upon learning of her treachery, Haven’s wrath was swift and severe — and very quickly regretted. His recriminations and her regret sent Seraphina into hiding. Seraphina has now returned to demand her freedom so she can forge her own future. Seraphina persists in her quest to end her marriage before her heart allows Haven to claim it once again.
Malcolm, the Duke of Haven, behaved like a complete and utter ass to Seraphina when he was first introduced in The Rogue Not Taken. There was NO way that cad could ever redeem himself in my eyes. Oops, my bad. I forgot we were dealing with the master of romance, Sarah MacLean. Forgive me, Oh Brilliant One! 😉
Not going to give anything away, but simply urge everyone to read this book. The Day of the Duchess deals with grief, regret, passion, and injustice with a sense of humor, honesty, historical accuracy, and beautiful, evocative prose. Translation: READ THE BOOK, IT’S BRILLIANT! Thank you, once again, Sarah MacLean for being an advocate for women and love, in past, present, and future.
DESERTED DUKE DISAVOWED!
August 19, 1836
House of Lords, Parliament
She’d left him two years, seven months ago, exactly.
Malcolm Marcus Bevingstoke, Duke of Haven looked to the tiny wooden calendar wheels inlaid into the blotter on his desk in his private office above the House of Lords.
August the nineteenth, 1836. The last day of the parliamentary session, filled with pomp and idle. And lingering memory. He spun the wheel with the six embossed upon it. Five. Four. He took a deep breath.
Get out. He heard his own words, cold and angry with betrayal, echoing with quiet menace. Don’t ever return.
He touched the wheel again. August became July. May. March.
January the nineteenth, 1834. The day she left.
His fingers moved without thought, finding comfort in the familiar click of the wheels.
April the seventeenth, 1833.
The way I feel about you . . . Her words now—soft and full of temptation. I’ve never felt anything like this.
He hadn’t, either. As though light and breath and hope had flooded the room, filling all the dark spaces. Filling his lungs and heart. And all because of her.
Until he’d discovered the truth. The truth, which had mattered so much until it hadn’t mattered at all.
Where had she gone?
The clock in the corner of the room ticked and tocked, counting the seconds until Haven was due in his seat in the hallowed main chamber of the House of Lords, where men of higher purpose and passion had sat before him for generations. His fingers played the little calendar like a virtuoso, as though they’d done this dance a hundred times before. A thousand.
And they had.
March the first, 1833. The day they met.
So, they let simply anyone become a duke, do they? No deference. Teasing and charm and pure, unadulterated beauty.
If you think dukes are bad, imagine what they accept from duchesses?
That smile. As though she’d never met another man. As though she’d never wanted to. He’d been hers the moment he’d seen that smile. Before that. Imagine, indeed.
And then it had fallen apart. He’d lost everything, and then lost her. Or perhaps it had been the reverse. Or perhaps it was all the same.
Would there ever be a time when he stopped thinking of her? Ever a date that did not remind him of her? Of the time that had stretched like an eternity since she’d left?
Where had she gone?
The clock struck eleven, heavy chimes sounding in the room, echoed by a dozen others sounding down the long, oaken corridor beyond, summoning men of longstanding name to the duty that had been theirs before they drew breath.
Haven spun the calendar wheels with force, leaving them as they lay. November the thirty-seventh, 3842. A fine date—one on which he had absolutely no chance of thinking of her.