Desperate duchesses

Review by Booklist Review

Roberta St. Giles knows that the Duke of Villiers is the only man for her, but convincing the sinfully sexy nobleman that they belong together won't be easy. Fortunately, Roberta's much-removed cousin Jemma, the Duchess of Beaumont, has just the plan to bring them together. Since Villiers is simply mad for chess, Jemma proposes a series of matches between herself, one of the best players in England, and Villiers, thus creating the perfect opportunity for Villiers to get to know Roberta better. Once Jemma's visiting brother, Damon Reeves, the Earl of Gryffyn, discovers Roberta's intentions of wedding Villiers, he offers his help, never expecting that he would also fall in love with her. Now Damon must find some way to checkmate Roberta's plans to marry Villiers and convince her to choose him instead. The first in a sparkling new series set in the scandalously fun Georgian era by best-selling and award-winning James, this is a gracefully written, lusciously sensual, delectably witty, and exquisitely romantic historical romance.--Charles, John Copyright 2007 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

If Shakespeare had written an 18th-century romantic comedy, it might look something like this novel. In her latest, veteran James offers a larger-than-life portrait of Georgian England, complete with oversexed aristocrats, posturing courtesans and a feuding duke and duchess. At the heart of it all is Roberta St. Giles, an ingenue who's intent on marrying the duke of Villiers, a chess player and notorious womanizer. Roberta, the daughter of the poetry-addicted "Mad Marquess," wants nothing more than an unsentimental husband like Villiers. But in her quest to become the sort of woman who would attract the duke, she finds herself falling for Damon Reeve, her tutor in the art of pleasure. James embellishes her tale with a number of characters, each with their own desires, vices and schemes. At times, the profusion of people and plot threads overwhelms the primary romance. Roberta, in particular, pales next to the vivacious but unhappily married duchess of Beaumont, who begs for her own story. Despite this lack of focus, James pulls everything together in the final third, making for a colorful, spirited romance that will leave readers desperate for a sequel. (June) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by Library Journal Review

Despairing that she will never make a suitable match as long as she remains in the country with her poet father, the "Mad Marquess," Lady Roberta St. Giles flees to London seeking the aid of a distant cousin, the Duchess of Beaumont, in bringing her into society and to the attention of the man of her dreams. Delighted with the challenge, the free-spirited Jemma takes Roberta in and, with flamboyant style, launches her beautifully-although not with the romantic results that Roberta had intended. Cryptic poetry, brilliant chess games, and scintillating repartee add zing to this complex tale of misplaced affections, sparring spouses, and dissatisfied nobles. Slightly bawdy, totally unconventional, and thoroughly delightful, James's (Pleasure for Pleasure) Georgian romp is the sparkling debut of a new series that promises to be remarkable. Noted for her smart, witty, Shakespeare-laced historicals, James lives in the New York City area. (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Desperate Duchesses Chapter One April 10, 1783 Beaumont House, Kensington "In Paris, a married lady must have a lover or she is an unknown. And she may be pardoned two." The door to the drawing room swung open, but the young woman sitting with her back to the door took no notice. "Two?" an exquisitely dressed young man remarked. "I gather that Frenchmen are a happy race of men. They seemed so petulant to me when I was last there. It must be the embarrassment of riches, like having three custards after supper." "Three lovers are considered rather too many," the woman replied. "Although I have known some who considered three to be a privilege rather than an abundance." Her low laugh was a type that tickled a man's breastbone and even lower. It said volumes about her personal abilities to manage one--or three--Frenchmen with aplomb. Her husband closed the door behind him and stepped into the room. The young man glanced up and came to his feet, bowing without extraordinary haste. "Your Grace." "Lord Corbin," the Duke of Beaumont replied, bowing. Corbin was just to Jemma's taste: elegant, assured and far more intelligent than he admitted. In fact, he would make a good man in parliament, not that Corbin would lower himself to something approaching work. His brother-in-law, the Earl of Gryffyn, rose and made him a casual bow. "Your servant, Gryffyn," the duke said, making a leg. "Do join us, Beaumont," his wife said, looking up at him with an expression of the utmost friendliness. "It's a pleasure to see you. Is the House of Lords not meeting today?" That was part and parcel with the war they had waged for the last eight years: conversation embroidered with delicate barbs, rarely with coarse emotion. "It is in session, but I thought to spend some time with you. After all, you have barely returned from Paris." The duke bared his teeth in an approximation of a smile. "I miss it already," Jemma said, with a lavish sigh. "It's marvelous that you're here, darling," she said, leaning forward a bit and tapping him on the hand with her fan. "I'm just waiting for Harriet, the Duchess of Berrow, to arrive. And then we shall make a decision about the centerpiece for tomorrow's fête." "Fowle tells me that we are holding a ball." The duke--who thought of himself as Elijah, though he would be very affronted were any person to address him so--kept his voice even. Those years of parliamentary debate were going to prove useful, now that Jemma had returned to London. 'Twas the reason he'd stayed home for the day, if truth be told. He had to strike a bargain with his wife that would curb her activities to an acceptable level. And he wouldn't get there by losing his temper; he remembered their newlywed battles well enough. "Dear me, don't tell me that I forgot to inform you! I know it's a bit mad, but the plans gave me something to do on the voyage here." She looked genuinely repentant, and indeed, for all Elijah knew, she was. The game of marriage they played required strictly friendly manners in public. Not that they were ever in private. "He just did tell you that," her brother put in. "You'd better watch out, Sis. You're not used to sharing a household." "It was truly ill-mannered of me," she said, leaping to her feet, which made her silk petticoats swirl around her narrow ankles. She was dressed in a pale blue gown à la française , embroidered all over with forget-me-nots. Her bodice caressed every curve of her breasts and narrow waist before the skirts billowed over her panniers. By all rights, the way her side hoops concealed the swell of her hips should be distasteful to a man, and yet Elijah had to admit that they played an irresistible part in a man's imagination, leading the eye from the curve of a breast to the narrow waist, and then driving him perforce to imagine slender limbs and--and the rest of it. Jemma held out her hand; Elijah paused for a moment and then took it. She smiled at him, as a mother might smile at a little boy reluctant to wash his face. "I am so glad that you are able to join us this morning, Beaumont. While I trust that these gentlemen have impeccable opinions"--she cast a glimmering smile at Corbin--"one's husband's opinion must, of course, prevail. I do declare that it's been so long since I felt as if I had a husband that it is quite a novelty! I shall probably bore you to tears asking you to approve my ribbons." In the old days, the first days of their marriage, Elijah would have bristled. But he was seasoned by years of dedicated jousting in Parliament where the stakes were more important than ribbons and trifles. "I am quite certain that Corbin can do my duty with your ribbons." He said it with just the right amount of disinterest and courtesy in his voice. From the corner of his eye, Elijah noticed that Corbin didn't even blink at the idea he had just been invited by a duke to do his husbandly duty. Perhaps the man could keep Jemma occupied enough that she wouldn't cause too many scandals before parliament went into recess. He turned sharply toward the door, annoyed to discover that his wife's beauty seemed more potent in his own house than it had been in Paris during his rare visits. Partly it was because Jemma had not powdered her hair. She knew quite well that the shimmer of weathered gold was far more enticing than powder, and contrasted better with her blue eyes. It was only--he told himself--because she was his wife that he felt this prickling irritation at her beauty. Or perhaps the irritation was caused by her self-possession. When they first married, she wasn't so flawless. Now everything about her was polished to perfection, from the color of her lip to the witty edge of her comments. Desperate Duchesses . Copyright © by Eloisa James. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved. Available now wherever books are sold. Excerpted from Desperate Duchesses by Eloisa James All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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