About the Book
Lord Morley's
life will change forever when he wins a game of cards and a family of sisters
to go along with it.
Miss Standish in none too pleased to have become the responsibility of yet another Lord, even if he is full of charm and goodness. Her responsibilities are to her sisters first.
With the repairs on the castle moving forward nicely and concerted efforts in a season in Bath made to find suitors for them all, Miss Standish and Lord Morley must determine where duty stops and matters of the heart take over.
Read this warm tale of family, sisters, loyalty and love to get a huge dose of the best part of a regency romance fans of Jane Austen or Georgette Heyer would enjoy. (
Miss Standish in none too pleased to have become the responsibility of yet another Lord, even if he is full of charm and goodness. Her responsibilities are to her sisters first.
With the repairs on the castle moving forward nicely and concerted efforts in a season in Bath made to find suitors for them all, Miss Standish and Lord Morley must determine where duty stops and matters of the heart take over.
Read this warm tale of family, sisters, loyalty and love to get a huge dose of the best part of a regency romance fans of Jane Austen or Georgette Heyer would enjoy. (
Goodreads: https://tinyurl.com/ycqpsfly
Amazon: https://amzn.to/2KJNvX0
Bookbub: https://tinyurl.com/wvmbkaw
The Earl’s Winning Wager Snippet
Morley stared at his best friend, waiting for the man to look up
from his cards. Gerald was losing terribly. And Morley wasn’t sure if he should
feel guilty or victorious. His friend had just thrown most of a new inheritance
from his distant cousin on the table, almost as if he wished to give it
away.
Despite Gerald being the Duke of Granbury with significant
holdings to his name, Morley wasn’t comfortable taking so much—even in
something as unbiased as a card game. But his friend smiled so large it looked
like his cheeks hurt. Morley’s hurt just looking at him.
“How can you smile when you’re losing abominably?” Lord Morley
frowned at him.
“I have leave to be happy so soon after my own wedding.”
“But you don’t have leave to gamble away your living, even to your
best friend.”
“I’m hardly close to losing a living.”
Lord Morley raised his eyebrows. The other lords at the table
stared greedily at the back of Gerald’s cards. But even though Lord Morley
shook his head, none too subtly, Gerald pushed all the remaining chips and his
slips of paper into the center.
“Included in this are some holdings in the south.”
Lord Morley narrowed his eyes.
Gerald fanned out his cards. “Good, but”—he smiled even
broader—“not good enough.” Then each of the men laid out their cards. Gerald
beat Lord Oxley soundly, as Morley suspected he knew he would. Then Lords
Harrington and Parmenter threw their cards down. That left Morley’s cards.
Morley had won. Gerald knew he’d won. He eyed him above his cards. “What is
this about?”
“Lay out your cards, man. On with it.” Gerald’s smile couldn’t
grow any larger, and even though Morley had just grown significantly more
wealthy, he didn’t trust his oldest friend.
Morley fanned out his cards and narrowed his eyes. “What are you
doing?”
Gerald tipped his glass back and drained its contents. “Losing to
my best friend. Come now. It’s time for us to return home. Her Grace wants me
home early.”
“How is she feeling?”
Gerald’s face clouded, and Morley regretted the question. Since
the man had lost his first wife during childbirth, the prospect of doing it all
over again loomed in his mind at all hours. Morley talked to him of it often
enough. “She seems in the very prime of health. No one has looked healthier.”
“No need to speak optimism in my ear. I know she is well, but
then, so was Camilla. All we can do is wait and see. Amelia so wanted a child,
and I love my wife too much to leave her alone. So there we have it.”
Morley clapped him on the back as they stepped out of White’s. “Do
you ever consider it odd that when youth, we used each other’s titles in
preparation for the moment the great weight would fall on our shoulders? And
now. You still call me Morley, but I … don’t call you anything but Gerald.” He
laughed trying to lighten the mood.
“You will always be Morley. Even your mother calls you Morley.” He
laughed. “Why is that?”
“I couldn’t guess. Maybe she loves the title?” He shrugged. “Now,
enough mystery. Tell me, what did I just win? What’s this all about? These
holdings in the south?”
“Remember our visit to Sussex?”
Morley half nodded, and then he stopped dead in the street. “When
we went to save you from Lady Rochester? And we paid a visit to a family of
ladies?” His eyes narrowed. Unbidden, Miss Standish’s face came into his mind.
“What did you do?”
“I inherited their castle, if you recall.”
“I recall a heap of rubble with a few standing rooms.”
“Well, we’ve been fixing it up, and the ladies are just about
ready to move in. Five women, all of age. June, the eldest, is not quite twenty
three, the youngest sixteen. You won the whole lot of them, with some other
holdings besides. The winnings should cover the remaining repairs and upkeep
for a time as well.”
“I won’t take it.”
“You have no choice. There were witnesses.”
Morley was silent for so long he hoped Gerald began to half
suspect he’d truly overstepped his generosity at long last. Then he shook his
head. “I know what you’re doing, and she doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“And she will want even less to do with me if she thinks
she is in any way beholden to me, so whatever plans you have going, you can
just take back your properties and your pesky family of women and leave me in
peace.”
“Morley, you’re my oldest and best friend. Would I really foist
these women on you if I didn’t think it would make you the happiest of men?
They’re from the Northumberland line. Excellent family heritage. The Queen
herself takes an interest in their well-being.”
“I care not for any of such nonsense, and you know it. You are not
to be a matchmaker. It doesn’t suit you. And you’re terrible at it.”
“How would you know, since I’ve never attempted such a roll until
now?”
“So you admit it?”
“I admit nothing. Now, come, don’t be cross. You’ll upset Amelia.”
“Oh, that is low, bringing your wife’s condition into this.”
They stepped into the townhome, where Simmons took their hats and
gloves and overcoats. Gerald waved Morley in. “Thank you for staying with us
while you’re in town.”
“At times, I prefer your home to my own situation.”
“You’re a good son, though.”
Morley hoped he was, though his mother was tiring at best and
liked to have her fingers in most aspects of his dealings. He loved her, and
felt she was happy in her life, such as it was.
A soft, melodic voice called, “Gerald? Is that you?”
Amelia stepped out into the foyer. “And Morley.” She clapped her
hands, and the smile that lit her face filled the room.
He accepted her kiss on the cheek and watched as Gerald turned all
of his focus to his wife.
Morley bowed. “I will bid you good night. Tomorrow, Gerald, we
will discuss your sneaking ways.”
“What has he done?” Amelia could only look with love at the Duke,
and Morley felt, for a moment, a pang of loneliness.
“I’ve done nothing. Morley is just a sore winner.”
Morley refused to say more. He bowed to Amelia and made his way up
the stairs. Before he reached the first landing, he turned. “Oh, and Gerald?”
Gerald turned from his wife for a brief moment.
“When are we to go visit my winnings?”
“Oh, you’re on your own with that one, Morley. They will much
prefer you to me at any rate.” He turned back to Her Grace, and Morley
continued up the stairs, his mood darkening with every step.
Gerald had gone too far—in some mad effort to match him with a
woman who really had no more interest in Morley than she did dancing a
quadrille. June Standish was as practical as he’d seen a person.
He sighed.
And far handsomer than any he’d yet laid eyes on. Her hair was
gold—it looked to be spun from the metal itself—and her eyes large, doe-like.
He had lost all sense of conversation when he first saw her. It had taken many
minutes for him to gain his faculties enough to speak coherently, but she had
seemed entirely unaffected. And so that was it for them.
He could only imagine her reaction when he returned to let her
know a new gentleman, he himself, was now lord over her life and well-being.
Gerald should not toy with others’ lives. He needed to be stopped. But Morley
wasn’t going to be the one to stop him. They’d carried on in their friendship
in just this way since they’d known each other. Perhaps he could appeal to
Amelia. She had more control over the man than anyone.
What did he need with a decrepit, dilapidated castle? It was an
old seat of the royal dukes, so there was a certain level of prestige
associated with the place—and with the women. They were of the ancient Normandy
family lines. Someone somewhere in their family had wasted their money and left
nothing for the line to live off of, but it was still considered an elevated
situation if you were on friendly terms with any of the Sisters of Sussex, as
they were called.
Sleep did not come easily, and morning was not friendly to
Morley’s tired eyes and mind. Instead of breaking his fast with Gerald and
Amelia, he left for a walk. Oddly, his steps took him to Amelia’s old tearoom.
They let it out, once she was to become the duchess, and someone else ran the
establishment instead. As he stood in the doorway, he almost walked away without
entering. What was he doing in a tearoom? Colorful dresses filled the shop to
bursting.
“Lord Morley!” With the swish of skirts, a woman’s hands were on
his arm. “What a pleasant surprise. You must join us for tea. We are discussing
the upcoming McAllister ball.”
He allowed himself to be led to their table, and when four
expectant female eyes turned their hopeful expression toward him, he could only
smile and say, “How perfect, for I was just wondering about the details.”
“Then you are attending?” Lady Annabelle’s eyes lit with such a
calculating energy, he shifted in his seat, eyeing the door for a second.
“I am, indeed.”
“How provident. Then we shall all be there together. You remember
we all became acquainted at the opera one week past. Miss Talbot, Miss
Melanie—”
“And Lady Annabelle. Naturally, we are acquainted. It is a
pleasure to see you again. I hope your mother is well?”
Lady Annabelle poured his tea, and his mind could not leave the
family he’d just won charge of. What sort of women was this new family of
sisters? He’d been most impressed with them when considering them as Gerald’s
wards, of a sort. But now that he owned the house they lived in, he felt a
whole new interest in their deportment. Could they pour a man’s tea? Stand up
well with the other ladies at a ball? Would he be able to marry them off? That
was the crux of it. And dash it all, why must he be concerned with the marrying
off of anyone? He was in over his head. He needed help. He could appeal to
Amelia’s sense of grace, but she would have little knowledge of the ways of the
ton.
The women chattered around him, and he almost sloshed his tea in
the saucer when he heard mention of the very women who so aggravated his
thoughts.
“They call them the Sisters of Sussex.”
“Really? Who are they?”
“The Duke of Northumberland’s relations, from a royal line. They
are the talk of the ton and favorites of many of the noble families. We
ourselves have stopped by with some of last season’s gowns.”
“Five sisters, you say? And they live in the old castle?”
“A cottage nearby. The castle is being renovated, though. I heard
the Duke of Granbury has become involved.” Lady Annabelle turned to him. “Do
you know much about the sisters?”
He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “I have met them.”
The other ladies leaned forward, eyes on him.
“And I found them charming,” he said. “I think you know more about
their history than I. Though I do know the castle will be repaired and livable,
as it deserves to be. It’s a remarkable structure.”
Miss Talbot fanned her face. “I should like to visit. I love old
buildings and their architecture.”
“Do you?” Morley tipped his head to her. She was a pretty sort of
woman. Chestnut curls lined her face, and deep brown eyes smiled at him.
“Yes, I like to draw them, and then study them after.”
“Interesting. Perhaps we shall meet up there sometime.”
“Oh?” Lady Annabelle rested a hand on his arm. “Will you be
spending much time in Brighton?”
He hadn’t planned on it yet. He’d hoped to stay as far away as
possible until his mind wrapped around this new responsibility. But he changed
his plans in the moment. “I think I shall.” He looked into each of their faces.
They were pleasant women. They seemed kind—unassuming, perhaps. “Might I ask
for some assistance?”
“Certainly.” Lady Annabelle’s eyes gleamed.
“I wonder, if I were to assist the ladies—any ladies—to be
prepared for a smallish Season in Brighton, do they have a dressmaker or shops
enough down there?”
“Oh, certainly. Not nearly as grand or varied as London, but a
woman can make do with what Brighton has to offer. The Brighton Royal Pavilion
has brought much of the ton and a higher level of prestige to the area.”
“Thank you.”
Their gossip-loving ears seemed to perk right up and all three
pairs of eyes looked on him a bit too keenly. He resisted adjusting his cravat.
“So, who will be attending the McAllister ball? And have each of you found
partners already for your dances?”
The chatter grew more excited, and they listed all the people who
were coming or might be coming, depending on the attendance of others. He
lingered as long as was polite, and then excused himself from this cheery
group.
He would go check in on his mother, though he planned not to
mention his new winnings at the table, and then make arrangements to travel
down to visit the Standish sisters. God willing, he could establish good
solutions for their situation and living and have them well in hand within a
few weeks.
About the Author
An award winning
author, including the GOLD in Foreword INDIES Book of the Year Awards, Jen
Geigle Johnson discovered her passion for England while kayaking on the Thames
near London as a young teenager.
She once greeted an ancient turtle under the water by grabbing her fin. She knows all about the sound a water-ski makes on glassy water and how to fall down steep moguls with grace. During a study break date in college, she sat on top of a jeep's roll bars up in the mountains and fell in love.
Now, she loves to share bits of history that might otherwise be forgotten. Whether in Regency England, the French Revolution, or Colonial America, her romance novels are much like life is supposed to be: full of adventure.
She once greeted an ancient turtle under the water by grabbing her fin. She knows all about the sound a water-ski makes on glassy water and how to fall down steep moguls with grace. During a study break date in college, she sat on top of a jeep's roll bars up in the mountains and fell in love.
Now, she loves to share bits of history that might otherwise be forgotten. Whether in Regency England, the French Revolution, or Colonial America, her romance novels are much like life is supposed to be: full of adventure.
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlyjen/
Website: https://jengeiglejohnson.com
Giveaway
Giveaway ends
June 14 at 11:59pm Mountain Time.
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Tour Schedule
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My Review
I loved Jen Geigle Johnson’s first installment of her Lords for the Sisters of Sussex series,
The Duke's Second Chance. I was excited to have an opportunity to read the second book, The Earl’s Winning Wager. Even though it is part of a series, I believe it can be read as a stand alone.
I found The Duke's Second Chance to be a delightful read. I loved Morley and June’s sweet story and taking a journey with them in the beautiful castle. I thought they had great chemistry from the start. I had to keep reading until I finished the whole book in one sitting. It was so so good.
I am giving The Duke’s Second Chance a very well deserved five plus stars. I highly recommend it for readers who enjoy historical fiction, especially those who enjoy Regencies. I look forward to reading more from the Lords for the Sisters of Sussex series.
I received this book from the publisher. This review is 100% my own honest opinion.
