Lady Glory Brightley was dreading her sister’s house party—until she discovers an early guest mired in a bog. She pulls the Earl of Keswick free—and then goes to great lengths to hide her limp from him. Is it too much to ask, just once, to be seen and treated as everyone else?
Keswick has come to Gloucestershire to hide—from an overzealous debutante, from his father, perhaps even from himself. He bonds with Lady Glory as a fellow misfit—her limp is nothing compared to the wounds he hides. They pledge to see each other through the choppy waters of the party, but he never expected to be caught up by this sprite of a girl—with her quick wit, stunningly fine seat on a horse and giving heart.
Not that he could ever pursue such inclinations. For no true lady could want a man with his reputation and entanglements. Who could love a man who is nothing but a rakehell?
He’s about to find out.