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“Stop!” Lady Rosington
flung out a dramatic hand, shocking her companion so much he sat
bolt upright and stared about in alarm, dropping his elegant gold-topped
cane, which clattered to the floor of the carriage.
“Whatever is it, Miranda?”
Orlando stuck his head out the open window and stared up the fashionable
street to see what was wrong. Pulling his head back in, he snatched
up his cane and rapped on the roof of the chaise to attract the
driver’s attention. “Take us home, Troughton. Her ladyship
isn’t feeling very well.” His fury apparent in his sparkling
eyes, he glared at her before pulling himself together. She appreciated
his anger, but wondered a little at it. Orlando rarely showed anything
but a fashionably bored mien in public, but what he saw as they
drove past had driven him to instant anger.
The carriage picked up speed, sending the horses into a trot. Orlando
took Miranda’s trembling hand. “Miranda, surely you
knew Daniel was looking for a mistress!”
Biting her lip she shook her head vehemently, dislodging several
hairpins that flew with a series of metallic tinkles to the floor.
“I had no idea. How long has it been going on?”
The carriage swung round the corner into Brook Street and Orlando
lost no time hastening Miranda indoors and ordering a pot of tea
brought to the drawing room. “Her ladyship is not feeling
well,” he informed the footman. “She is to receive no
visitors.”
“Very well, my lord.”
Orlando saw Miranda clutch at the banister rail and badly wanted
to carry her upstairs before the servants realised it was distress,
not ill health that had caused their mistress’s precipitate
return from her shopping expedition.
She entered the drawing room and Orlando helped her to remove her
hat, cloak and gloves, acting with unusual clinical precision. She
sat straight as a ramrod in her chair, her face expressionless,
until the maid brought tea and was dismissed.
Miranda sank forward, her forehead resting on one slender hand.
“How long has it been going on?”
Orlando didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “It hasn’t
started yet.” He sat in a chair opposite hers, legs crossed
at the ankles, the picture of elegant repose. “He’s
considering asking her to enter his keeping and giving her carte
blanche. I swear it’s the truth, Miranda. Daniel has been
faithful to you since your wedding day. Only recently has he even
considered taking a mistress.”
She lifted her head and let him see her distress. She knew, for
all his reputation and his outrageous social behaviour, Orlando
cared for those he let into his private life. If she couldn’t
trust him to keep her secret, she couldn’t trust anyone. The
world thought she didn’t care, but deep inside, where she
kept it locked away, their situation was tearing her apart. “Why?
Why now?”
Orlando frowned and picked up his tea dish. He sipped, put the dish
back in its deep saucer and looked up at her. “Daniel doesn’t
confide in anyone, least of all me, but I grew up with him. There
aren’t many people who know him better than I do. Mama perhaps.
He’s lonely, Miranda.”
Silence fell, only broken by the sound of a light carriage travelling
up the street outside. Miranda swallowed, and turned to the small
table by her side to pick up her own tea. She didn’t want
it, but it gave her something to do. “I don’t know why
he doesn’t come to me any more. After Christopher’s
birth, I was ill, but he’s never asked me, never come near
me.”
Orlando made a hissing sound. “He thinks you’re too
ill. Dr. Sewell gives that impression.” He bit his lip, obviously
holding something back.
She stared at him. “I had a terrible time birthing John. A
long labour. Daniel stopped coming to me every night, but he still
came sometimes. Christopher’s birth was easier, but I got
the fever afterwards, and Dr. Sewell advised us not to—not
to sleep together for a while. It became a habit, I suppose.”
Orlando lifted one long forefinger and pressed it to his forehead,
his habit when mulling over a problem. “Did Daniel say he
loves you?”
She smiled and shook her head. “I’ve never looked for
that. We have an arranged marriage, after all. It’s been very
successful as far as society is concerned.” She smoothed her
skirt, the fine silk creasing under her trembling hand. “I
thought he would take a mistress eventually, but I didn’t
realise it would affect me in quite this way. It would happen, I’d
hear of it, and that would be that. I’m only glad I was with
you when I saw them together and not anyone else.” Her hands
shook, but she kept her poise, as she had done for years. It was
almost second nature to her now.
Orlando lifted his hand away. “He needs to look—really
look at you. Daniel loves you, somewhere inside that pillar of stone
he always puts in front of his true feelings. I know you love him.
Have you ever told him?”
She bit her lip to stop the tears coming. “Once. I don’t
think he remembers it. Orlando, it’s just a foolish feeling
I have. It will go away in time, I’m sure of it.”
“Die of neglect more like,” Orlando picked up the delicate
tea dish between finger and thumb and took a sip. “I’d
rather it didn’t. When you married I thought it might be the
making of him, stop him becoming a dead bore. I was a bad-mannered,
ill-behaved child, and much of it was because Daniel was the opposite;
a model of propriety, good and obedient. You’d hardly know
there’s barely five years between us. Daniel acts as if he’s
my father more than my brother most of the time.”
Miranda thought of the brothers’ mother, the volatile, beautiful
Triple Countess, and wondered how she could produce three such different
sons as Daniel, Orlando and Corin. The family resemblance was there
in the deep blue eyes and the sensual mouths, but hair colour, style,
build and personality varied enormously.
She had been married to the eldest of the brothers, Daniel, Earl
of Rosington for five years now, and produced the requisite “heir
and spare”. No more babies followed the birth of Christopher,
three years before, but then there hadn’t been any reason
for one. After Miranda recovered from childbed fever, Daniel lost
interest in intimacy, at least with her. She tried, but he rebuffed
her every time and her pride wouldn’t take it any more. Perhaps
he had tired of her and was looking for a change. She said it, trying
to sound offhand, for her own sake as much as for Orlando’s.
“He never loved me, and now he’s done his duty, there’s
no need for him to pretend. He’s always treated me with respect.”
“What, by taking La Perla Perfetta shopping when he knew I
was accompanying you today?” Orlando spat out. “It’s
as though he wanted you to see him!”
With an impulsive motion he got to his feet, the full skirts of
his coat swirling around him. Miranda couldn’t see his face,
for he turned partially away from her, but she saw the furrow between
his dark brows before he turned.
She let silence fall, as she could with Orlando, her best of friends.
Orlando Garland, who seduced as many married women as were willing,
never laid a lascivious finger on her. Not that Daniel had shown
any sign of caring if he did or not. He spun back to her on one
high heel. “You need time. I have the makings of an idea.
Leave it with me, Miranda. I’ll come up with something.”
He bowed and, after ensuring that she was recovered from her shock,
left her.
Miranda was not convinced.
Lord and Lady Rosington dined alone, unusual
when in Town, but the Season was coming to an end. They planned
to leave for the country in a week or two and join the rest of their
kind, society’s favoured elite. If not for John’s putrid
sore throat they would probably have left before, but Miranda insisted
that they stay in London until they were sure it wasn’t going
to turn into anything worse.
On the surface the dinner was all smooth going, until after they
had eaten. They ate in near silence, but Daniel didn’t seem
perturbed. He probably hadn’t seen her earlier in the day
when he was leaning over the petite, pretty woman, smiling in the
intimate way Miranda hadn’t seen for some time.
Miranda stood to go. She could bear it no longer. When she reached
the door she turned, determined to break the dreadful tension in
her heart. “Have you any plans for this evening, my lord?”
She kept her words innocuous, but gripped her hands together. He
might be planning to go to his courtesan tonight, if she had accepted
his offer.
He glanced up at her. “Not really. I thought I might look
in at the club, and perhaps the theatre. Are you engaged this evening?”
“I planned to stay with John now he is better. He needs occupying.
I’m glad we’re going away soon. He needs the fresh air
of the country.”
“Yes, he’s looking very pale.” Whatever Daniel’s
failings as a husband, he made an excellent father.
She spoke abruptly, letting the words come as they would. “Have
I done something wrong?”
He gazed directly at her, puzzlement creasing his brow and in his
eyes. “No, of course not.”
“Why don’t you come to me any more? Why are we no longer
intimate?”
His forehead cleared, but his demeanour didn’t lighten. “You’ve
not been well,” he said patiently. “You’ve never
been well since you had Christopher. I’d be a brute to come
to you.”
Bitterly, Miranda thought back on her own behaviour. At first she’d
found it easier to lie back and allow her attendants to wait on
her. Near death, she hadn’t felt properly well for six months
after that terrible time. After that, it became something of a habit
to succumb to every chill and ache, and use it as an excuse to take
to her bed. Had that deterred him? She had been so in the habit
of it she hardly thought of it. “I’m quite well now,”
she said firmly.
He smiled gently and shook his head. “I fear not.”
Irritation itched at her. She was not a child to be humoured. “If
I say I am, then I am. Is that why I saw you with La Perla Perfetta
today? Are you considering taking your business elsewhere?”
He’d reached out to the fruit bowl but he paused at that,
and looked up at her, peach in hand. “Did you? What has that
to do with anything?”
“Don’t be disingenuous!” she snapped, and immediately
wished the words back. She wanted to win him, not antagonise him.
Oh well, now it was done she had better explain herself. “You
and I both know what her fame is! She’s newly arrived in society,
ready to help her mother with her infamous business. It’s
well known she’s looking for a keeper! Will it be you?”
He put the peach down with infinite care. “How do you know
what she looks like?”
“You mean her constant appearances at Drury Lane and the opera
aren’t enough?” Scorn seared her voice. “Of course
I know her by sight; who doesn’t? That white mask, those white
clothes, they’re all meant to draw the eye.” Her husband
frowned. Miranda didn’t let it deter her. “Well? Will
it be you? I would rather know for sure than see society laugh at
my ignorance.”
He leaned back in his chair, seemingly at ease, and cleaned his
juice-stained fingers with his napkin. He must have clutched the
ripe fruit too hard, for it lay on his plate, the marks of his fingers
easily apparent on its furry surface. “You shouldn’t
speak of such things.”
“Not in public,” she replied, “but there’s
no one here to hear us and I want to know. Be assured, when you
offer her carte blanche it will be all over London, and the scandal
sheets. I want to be forewarned. You owe me that, at least.”
He regarded her steadily. “In that case, madam, you will know
when the rest of London knows.”
She went back to the table and reached for her chair, fumbling for
a hold. Losing her patience she flung the chair back with a movement
that sent it clattering to the floor. “Do you have such little
regard for me? How will you feel when I take my first lover?”
Slowly she came round the table, closer to him. His face remained
carefully expressionless. “Will it hurt you?” She shrugged.
“Probably not. You’ll be too busy in your love nest,
won’t you? I’m told the hurt goes away in time, and
marriage becomes a business arrangement.” She bent so she
could stare into his deep, fathomless eyes. She saw nothing there
and straightened up before he could see the bitter hurt in hers.
“Perhaps it will be easier then.”
Swiftly Miranda gathered her skirts and made for the door. She heard
a choking sound, and then she thought she heard her name but she
didn’t stay. She had made her point, and it was obvious he
would not answer her with anything like a straight answer.
She flung open the door of the elegant dining room, quite discommoding
the footman crouched behind it, and strode upstairs. She was careful
not to slam her bedroom door.
Buy Last Chance, My Love, here
Buy the Print Book |
This intricate plot explores the way
the pair rediscovers each other and fined ways of overcoming the
restrictions Miranda's delicate health impose on their love life.
Will the plot succeed and will they ultimately find true happiness?
Once again Lynne Connolly weaves her magic to good effect. This
book will keep you glued to the page to the very end. I give this
book a bouquet of red roses!
Anne for Red Roses for Authors
The first sentence of the summary totally caught
my interest. How was the author going to make it seem creditable
they wouldn’t have sex - at all. I knew this was historical
(by that point ;) ) but the hero HAD to know there were ways around
the whole preggers thing. Didn’t he?
I am happy to report Lynne Connolly did an excellent job selling
me and making that first sentence work for me. As well getting across
the feelings of the wife who only knows her husband no longer wants
her and a husband who truly wants his wife but doesn't know how
to make that happen - physically or emotionally.
The brothers are great and I really look forward to reading the
next two tales in this series. I just sat back and enjoyed a really
lovely historical romance by a very talented author.
Grade: A- Sybil of The Good, The Bad and The Unread
I was caught up by the ability
of Lynne Connolly to enchant readers by her writing. The agony that
Miranda and Daniel go through because they believe they can't be
together will bring tears to your eyes. I was mesmerized by the
storyline and couldn't stop reading it. I wanted to throttle the
doctor but I also wanted to shake Daniel a little for not talking
to Miranda. This was a great book and one I will read again.
Julianne for Twolips Reviews
Lynne Connolly has written a wonderful
historical romance, worthy of any of the most famous of New York
print authors. A marvelous story, rich in the time period and it's
ways, wonderful, loveable characters, a plot that keeps the reader
turning the cyber pages and sexual tension that gets the reader
going with some tender, beautiful love scenes. This reader was captivated,
enthralled and thrilled with this story. Ms. Martin expertly crafts
her characters, her plot and her sex scenes and puts them together
to create a story that this reviewer knows will be a big favorite
with lovers of historical romance. The hero is adorable, the heroine
is not only a woman of her time, but she is also strong in spite
of her seeming infirmities. This is a story for a quiet evening,
curled up on a comfy sofa, a drink near by to dive into the past
and live for a short time in an era of ladies, gents, counts and
countesses, rascals and rogues and enjoy the wonderful writing of
Lynne Connolly.
Valerie for Love Romances and More. 5 Hearts!
Ms. Connolly's twist on the typical
historical romance was well written and clever. Her witty dialogue
and her willingness to take a risk made this book a very enjoyable
read. The plotline was one I had never seen before, and her characters
had me completely engrossed from the very first page. I look forward
to reading more from this author in the future.
By Romance Junkies Reviewer: Jenn L. 4.5 Blue Ribbons!
Ms. Connolly has written a lovely historical
romance. The lead couple is very likable with a depth to their personalities
that is explored within the story. Miranda and Daniel’s marriage
began as an arranged marriage but there is something more to it.
They have an underlying love for each other that is easy to see.
Miranda is heartbroken over the thought that Daniel might acquire
a mistress. Daniel is not that enthralled with the idea since it
would allow Miranda to take a lover too! It is very touching to
watch these two together, and the reader will be enthralled with
them. When they are together at the inn, the lines of communication
opens up and their emotions come to the forefront. Of course, the
reason why Daniel needed a mistress was the no-sex edict due to
Miranda’s health. The author does a good job of resolving
this issue and the reader can be assured that a “happily ever
after” is in the cards for them. Last Chance, My Love will
be enjoyed by all especially the romantics at heart.
Reviewed by: Susan T for Fallen Angels Reviews
LAST CHANCE, MY LOVE is a moving tale
of self sacrifice and hidden love told in delightful details of
historical London under the adroit pen of Lynne Connolly. One can
not help but feel the frustration and pain of Daniel and Miranda
as they struggle to come to terms of what have become of their marriage.
As feelings are revealed and hidden truth unearthed, the tenderness
and passion between the estranged couple makes this book a positive
must read for all those romantic at heart.
By Romance Junkies Reviewer: J.T. |
