What A Lady Craves is book one in The Eton Boys Trilogy by Ashlyn Macnamara and is a great start to this series. I am so glad that I had the opportunity to start this entertaining new series from the beginning. The bonus to having read this one early is that we only have to wait until November to get book 2, What A Lady Demands. What A Lady Craves is the story of the difficult road to love between Henrietta and Alexander. Henrietta survives the humiliation of being jilted by her fiance' and having the added unenviable position of having to work for the relative of the very man who left her embarrassed and at the mercy and restrictions of Regency era society.
There is more to Alexander's decision to leave Henrietta the way that he did many years ago than not wanting to marry. With Alexander's shocking return things take a dramatic turn for both Alexander and Henrietta. Alexander isn't the type of hero who comes back to woo and be forgiven by Henrietta. Alexander comes back with two daughters and lots of drama surrounding him. There are times when Alexander is a bit of a rogue, but that's a character flaw that I love to see challenged by a strong female character and Henrietta does not disappoint. Henrietta proves to be much more feisty than Alexander expected and their strained interactions provided nice tension to the story.
What A Lady Craves provides everything one would want from a historical romance. Mcnamara provides steamy but not explicit romance, suspense, and fully developed characters all wrapped up in a wonderfully written story.
**I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review.**
Ashlyn Macnamara weaves a delicious tale of two souls torn apart by circumstance and reunited by fate—perfect for fans of Julia Quinn, Eloisa James, and Sabrina Jeffries.
Henrietta Upperton is about to marry Alexander Sanford when he rushes off to India to salvage his family’s fortune. Then comes the devastating news that he has wed another. Eight agonizing years later, a storm washes Alexander ashore—injured, widowed, and hunted—and one glimpse of his ruggedly handsome face reawakens the desire Henrietta thought she had buried deep inside. Her body still yearns for his touch, but she’s determined not let him wound her again . . . not this time.
For Alexander, honor always comes first. But only now does he realize that when given the choice between two virtuous deeds, he picked the wrong one. On the run with his life in tatters and a pair of daughters in tow, Alexander burns for Henrietta. He knows he does not deserve forgiveness. And yet he longs to wrap his arms around her warm body once again. What’s more, he is sure the lady craves the same.
About the Author:
Ashlyn Macnamara is the author of A Most Scandalous Proposal. She lives in the wilds of suburbia outside of Montreal with her husband and two teenage daughters. When not writing, she looks for other excuses to neglect the housework, among them knitting, reading, and wasting time on the Internet in the guise of doing research.
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Read an Excerpt:
(from Chapter Three)
“Miss Upperton.” His low murmur washed over her and settled deep in her belly. “We meet again.”
Good Lord, the man didn’t even have the grace to act surprised. Or contrite or sheepish or any number of other things that would indicate he was sorry for what he’d done to her.
“I really must be off.” She took a step backward. She really couldn’t remain here as long as he still had the power to melt her insides with a mere glance. Especially given all the pain that should divide them.
“You don’t have your paper.”
“My paper? Oh, yes. That.” Damnation, had he been eavesdropping? Worse, would he report to his aunt that she was planning on leaving her position? Not that she was planning on it, exactly. Only on consideration, she thought it best to keep her options open. “Tilly didn’t have one. Isn’t that what you said?”
“Beggin’ yer pardon, miss,” Tilly put in, “but I didn’t get a chance ter look.”
Alexander showed little inclination to pick himself up off the floor. And why, in heaven’s name, would anyone want to lie on those filthy planks? Amid the jumble of articles crammed into the Flotsam and Jetsam shop, she’d never once spotted a broom.
“And begging your pardon,” Alexander said slowly, as if he didn’t like to admit what he was about to say, “I seem to be in need of some assistance.”
That was it, then. She couldn’t just leave him there in the inch-thick layer of dust on Tilly’s floor. Pressing her lips together, she stepped closer and extended a hand.
As their fingers touched, he caught her eye once again. She braced herself. At one time, the mere brush of those fingers against hers, even separated by gloves, had been enough to send a jolt straight to her core, a heady awareness that buzzed through her most private regions. But she would not—would not—allow her body to betray her like that again. His palm slid against hers; his hand curled about her wrist, the grip surprisingly strong.
And calloused. The skin just over her pulse warmed and tingled. Gracious. The man had calluses. They hadn’t been there before.
She pulled, and he heaved himself upright, his body swaying slightly, his breath heavy. He gripped the counter for balance. Goodness, had he always been that tall? He must have. Neither did she recall his shoulders being quite that broad, nor his chest so solid. His presence dwarfed her. Overpowered. And yet, his pallor proclaimed him not yet recovered from his ordeal.
“And what gave you the idea you were ready to rise from your bed, much less able to manage a constitutional down to the village?” She sounded like someone’s maiden aunt, clucking and peevish as an old hen. Hell, she was a maiden aunt since her brother’s wife gave birth to a son two months ago.
“I had business.” He raised a sandy brow. “Same as you, I daresay.”