Diamond in the Rough (American Heiresses Book #2) , livre ebook

Baker Publishing Group - Jen Turano

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201 pages

English

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To save her family from financial ruin, Miss Poppy Garrison accepts an unusual proposition to participate in the New York social season in exchange for her grandmother settling a family loan that has unexpectedly come due. Ill-equipped to handle the intricacies of mingling within the New York Four Hundred, Poppy becomes embroiled in one hilarious fiasco after another, doomed to suffer a grand societal failure instead of being deemed the diamond of the first water her grandmother longs for her to become. Reginald Blackburn, second son of a duke, has been forced to travel to America to help his cousin, Charles Wynn, Earl of Lonsdale, find an American heiress to wed in order to shore up his family estate that is in desperate need of funds. Reginald himself has no interest in finding an heiress to marry, but when Poppy's grandmother asks him to give etiquette lessons to Poppy, he swiftly discovers he may be in for much more than he bargained for.

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Historical romance

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Publié par	Baker Publishing Group
Date de parution	03 septembre 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781493420292
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0384€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Jen Turano
Gentleman of Her Dreams: A L A D I E S O F D I S T I N C T I O N Novella from With All My Heart Romance Collection
A Change of Fortune
A Most Peculiar Circumstance
A Talent for Trouble
A Match of Wits
After a Fashion
In Good Company
Playing the Part
At Your Request: An A PART FROM THE C ROWD Novella from All For Love Romance Collection
Behind the Scenes
Out of the Ordinary
Caught by Surprise
Flights of Fancy
Diamond in the Rough
Title Page
Copyright Page
© 2019 by Jennifer L. Turano
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
www.bakerpublishinggroup.com
Ebook edition created 2019
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.
ISBN 978-1-4934-2029-2
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Scripture quotations are from the King James Version of the Bible.
Cover design by Dan Thornberg, Design Source Creative Services
Author is represented by Natasha Kern Literary Agency.
Dedication
For Barb Petrozzi
You’ve always been one of my dearest friends, no matter how many miles separate us. Thank you for all the support you’ve given me, and for reading all of my books, no matter that historical romances really aren’t your thing.
Love you! Jen
Contents
Cover
Half Title Page
Books by Jen Turano
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Back Ads
Back Cover
Chapter 1

N EW Y ORK C ITY N OVEMBER 1885
Any smidgen of hope that her entrance into New York high society would be deemed a rousing success died the moment Miss Poppy Garrison’s tiara became firmly attached to the sleeve of her dance partner.
Wincing when Mr. Murray Middleton began turning her around in a circle, a step that would have certainly been easier to execute if her head wasn’t stuck to his sleeve, Poppy listed to the left but came to a rapid halt when Mr. Middleton abruptly stopped moving.
“Miss Garrison, what in the world are you about?” he asked in a voice no louder than a whisper. “If you’re unaware, the Gypsy Quadrille does not require any manner of peculiar posturing. Your deviation from the tried and true steps is drawing notice.” He bent closer to her, an easy feat since she was still attached to his sleeve. “I realize you’re not overly familiar with the ways of the New York Four Hundred, but take it from someone in the know, it’s not quite the thing to diverge from the expected steps. That could very well see you excluded from the smart set forever.”
Mr. Middleton then attempted to take a step away from her, a move that left her convinced she’d just become parted from a great deal of blond hair that had once been styled in a most elegant manner but now must be looking nothing less than frightful.
“I’m not posturing,” she managed to whisper back, even though she felt the distinct urge to release a howl of pain since her head was now stinging dreadfully. “I’m stuck.”
“Stuck?”
“Indeed. To your jacket. Or at least my tiara is.”
“A curious circumstance to be sure, but perhaps if I give you a twirl, you’ll become unstuck.”
Before Poppy could utter a single protest to what was certainly a horrible idea, Mr. Middleton surged into motion, giving her a very enthusiastic twirl. Fire raced over her scalp as the tiara was yanked from her head, taking numerous strands of her hair with it in the process, even as the tiara remained firmly attached to Mr. Middleton’s sleeve. Then, for some unfathomable reason, Mr. Middleton gave her another twirl, sending her careening away from him and into the crowd of guests assembled on the edge of the dance floor located on the top floor of Delmonico’s.
With her arms flailing about, she pitched forward, her plunge toward the ground interrupted when strong hands grabbed hold of her, pulling her directly against what felt like a rock-solid chest.
Lifting her head, Poppy felt a tingle creep up her neck as her gaze settled on the face of the gentleman who’d saved her from a nasty spill.
He wasn’t who one would consider the handsomest gentleman in the room, but he had a presence about him that drew and held her attention. His hair was dark, as were his eyes, and he had a sharp blade of a nose, which didn’t hold her attention long, not after she caught a glimpse of his lips—lips that weren’t curving in the least and . . .
“Are you all right, miss?”
The moment that question left the gentleman’s mouth, Poppy found herself going noticeably weak at the knees, a direct result of the distinct English accent that flowed over her like rich honey being drizzled over a hot biscuit.
Blinking out of those thoughts when she realized she’d curled her hands into the lapels of the gentleman’s jacket, causing him to arch a dark brow at her, Poppy released her hold on him and stepped back, willing knees that were still a tad wobbly to cooperate.
She smiled. “You’re English.”
“British.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Not at all.”
Poppy’s smile dimmed. “I suppose I should now beg your pardon, sir, although I wasn’t attempting to insult you, merely—”
“Miss Garrison, what, pray tell, are you doing?”
Dread was immediate as she recognized the voice behind her as belonging to the esteemed Mr. Ward McAllister, a gentleman her grandmother had told her had the power to see her accepted into society—or not.
Forcing herself to turn, Poppy winced when she discovered Mr. McAllister scowling at her, his moustache twitching in a most concerning manner.
“Well?” Mr. McAllister demanded. “Explain yourself.”
Her mind, unfortunately, took that moment to go completely blank. “Forgive me, but what was the question?”
Mr. McAllister’s moustache twitched again. “I asked you to explain why you’ve disrupted the Gypsy Quadrille, one I personally chose to open up the first Family Circle Dancing Class of the Season.” He puffed out his chest. “I hope you’re aware that only two hundred and twenty-five guests are invited to this affair, and only a select few, yourself included, are presented with the supreme honor of participating in the quadrille. There were more than a few young ladies who were sorely disappointed to find themselves not included in the opening dance. I have to believe none of those disappointed young ladies would have ever contemplated causing the type of ruckus you have.”
Poppy wrinkled her nose. “Perhaps one of those young ladies is currently lingering on the sidelines and would be more than happy to take over for me, something I would appreciate since I’m woefully inept at the intricacies of this particular dance.”
Mr. McAllister’s eyes flashed in a less-than-encouraging way. “Do not toy with me, Miss Garrison. You will not enjoy the consequences.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I demand an explanation, and without further delay, if you please. If you’ve neglected to notice, the entire ballroom is waiting with bated breath to learn why the opening quadrille has come to a screeching halt.”
Poppy glanced past Mr. McAllister and found that the dancers who’d been given the honor of participating in the Gypsy Quadrille, all of whom were garbed in brightly colored costumes similar to the one she was wearing, were standing still as statues. She then directed her attention to the guests who’d been observing the quadrille, finding them watching her closely, their gazes alive with speculation.
“I do seem to have drawn an unusual amount of interest,” she said weakly before she summoned up another smile, one that Mr. McAllister didn’t return. “I had no idea my mishap would cause such mayhem.” She craned her neck. “How curious that the musicians appear to have frozen in place as well, quite as if they’re figurines in a music box that needs a few good whirls to get them into motion again.”
Mr. McAllister stepped closer to her. “Not that this is the moment to descend into such unusual observations, Miss Garrison, but the musicians froze on my command, and the dancers stopped dancing because they know they cannot successfully continue on with this quadrille until you resume your place with Mr. Middleton.” Mr. McAllister released a sniff. “What could you have been thinking to cause such a disruption?”
“I wasn’t thinking much of anything beyond trying to puzzle out how best to get my tiara unattached from Mr. Middleton’s jacket.”
Mr. McAllister swung his attention to Mr. Middleton, who was still trying to tug the tiara in question from his sleeve. Mr. McAllister snapped his attention back to Poppy. “How is it possible your tiara became attached to Mr. Middleton’s sleeve in the first place?”
Poppy shot a look to Mr. Middleton, noticing that his cheeks were stained a telltale shade of red, which stood out vividly against a complexion that was unusually pale and in stark contrast to the lightness of his blond hair.
She did not know Mr. Middleton well, having only made his acquaintance the week prior, after her grandmother had received a last-minute invitation from Mr. McAllister inviting Poppy to participate in the Gypsy Quadrille.
Her grandmother, Mrs. George Van Rensselaer, known to her closest confidants as Viola, had been beside herself with glee over that coveted i