The Secret Wedding [NOOK Book]

Overview

a sensational NEW historical romance from the New York Times bestselling author of a lady's secret

He had never intended to marry, but at the age of seventeen Christian Hill impulsively defended a maid's honor only to be blamed for defaming it, and was coerced into marrying Dorcas Froggatt. But then he ...
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The Secret Wedding

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Overview

a sensational NEW historical romance from the New York Times bestselling author of a lady's secret

He had never intended to marry, but at the age of seventeen Christian Hill impulsively defended a maid's honor only to be blamed for defaming it, and was coerced into marrying Dorcas Froggatt. But then he left to pursue his military career, putting the surreal event out of his mind. Until someone begins making inquiries about a man named Christopher Hill?the alias he used when he wed Dorcas years before...


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Editorial Reviews

Library Journal

Caro Hill, heir to a thriving Sheffield cutlery firm, wants to verify her widowhood so she can remarry. Believing his wife long dead, army officer Christian Hill, Viscount Grandiston, is wary as questions arise about Jack Hill, the name he used ten years earlier when he was forced to marry the very young Dorcas Froggatt after killing her erstwhile groom-to-be. When Mr. Grandiston arrives looking for Dorcas, Caro takes on several disguises to squash any threat to her fortune and her future. Their days together offer passion and danger but very little truth as neither realizes they are falling in love with their spouse. This charming, witty, and sultry tale, the second in the author's "Secrets" trilogy (A Lady's Secret), deftly captures the spirit and flavor of Georgian England. Beverley lives in Canada.


—Kristin Ramsdell
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781101028995
  • Publisher: Penguin Group (USA)
  • Publication date: 4/7/2009
  • Sold by: Penguin Group
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 432
  • Sales rank: 60,757
  • File size: 391 KB

Meet the Author

Jo Beverley
Jo Beverley is widely regarded as one of the most talented romance writers today. She is a four-time winner of Romance Writers of America's cherished RITA Award and one of only a handful of members in the RITA Hall of Fame. She has also recieved the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award. Born in England, she now lives with her husband and two sons in Victoria, British Columbia, just a ferry ride away from Seattle, WA.

Biography

Jo Beverley is one the few authors writing English-set historical romance who is English. She was born and raised in England, and has a degree in English history from Keele University in Staffordshire. She and her husband emigrated to Canada in 1975 where they raised their two children. In 2009, the couple returned to England.

Though Jo started to write as a young child, it was only in the '80s that she began to think that it was something ordinary people could do, and after a talk at a local library, she settled to seriously writing her first historical romance.

Now, she is the author of over thirty romance novels and many novellas, which have garnered several RITAs from the Romance Writers of America, as well as several awards from Romantic Times, including two Career Achievement awards. She is a member of the RWA Honor Roll, and the RWA Hall of Fame.

Good To Know

Some fascinating outtakes from our interview with Jo Beverley:

"I'm English, born, raised, and educated, which has to contribute to the way I write my books."

"My profession -- once upon a time in another world -- was careers guidance, which involved visiting many different workplaces and learning about the jobs done there. This is a great education in the variety and complexity of life."

"I taught women-centered childbirth classes for 5 years, and that comes out in any childbirth scenes in my books.

"I'm a craft-dabbler, and I've tried most of them, including Tenerife lace, tatting, leatherwork, and stained glass, but I've never stuck with any. However, I once was a very good painter and I've recently decluttered all my craft materials to concentrate on drawing and painting as my artistic therapy for a demented author."

"I grew up in Morecambe, Lancashire, which is a 19th-century seaside town, but that's very close to Heysham, an ancient coastal village. They say the pre-Conquest church there is the oldest one in England still in use and there are stone-age tombs as well. We used to play on an Anglo-Saxon hogs-back stone near the church. I'm sure this easy contact with such ancient things tuned my mind to the past. I set my second book, The Stanforth Secrets, in Heysham, and it will be reissued in 2010." "My indulgences are really good cheese, bread, wine, coffee, and dark, dark chocolate (90% Lindt."

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    1. Date of Birth:
      September 22, 1947
    2. Place of Birth:
      Morecambe, Lancashire, UK
    1. Education:
      Degrees in English and American Studies, Keele University, Staffs, 1970

Read an Excerpt

Chapter 1

Ten Years later

London

"Grandiston!"

The call penetrated even the laughter and chatter of the Guards' Officers' Mess.

Christian had been Viscount Grandiston for nearly a year, which was long enough for him to respond to it but not long enough to be pleased about it. He was also just leaving with a group of friends to go to the theater.

At the second bellow he turned to look across the crowded room misted by pipe smoke.

"Hades," he muttered. Middle-aged, bulldog-jawed Major Delahew was beckoning him. These days, Delahew was a paper pusher in the regimental administration, but he was a tough old soldier with an honoroable career, and a superior officer to boot. He couldn't be ignored.

"Don't leave without me," Christian said to his friends, and worked his way through the crowded room. What bit of paperwork had he bungled this time? Peacetime soldiering was a devilish bore, perhaps especially when a man had known nothing but action in his career.

"Yes, sir?"

Delahew's glare turned into a rueful smile. "Sorry, didn't mean to bellow an order. So demmed noisy in here. Drink?"

Christian had to accept the offer and sit at the man's table.

Delahew eased into his chair, arranging his wooden leg at an angle. Such things were sobering evidence of the consequences of war, but these days Christian could almost find thought of wounds exciting.

He was coming to regret transferring to the elite Life Guards. When his father had inherited the earlier kingdom of Royland, he'd urged the move. He'd seemed to think it would be a treat for Christian, though he hadn't been bli8nd to the advantages of his heir in the palace guard.

With the French and Indian War over, Christian had been ready for lighter times, and playing the military beau in London had promised amusement. London was the center of the world, full of good company and lovely ladies. He'd be close to old friends, especially Robin Fitzvitry, now Earl of Huntersdown, and Thorn, the most eminent Duke of Ithorne.

His new life had amused for a while, but he was beginning to itch for action, any action, near or far. Delahew would hardly choose this moment to discuss some adventurous posting, alas.

Christian took the glass of wine and sipped, hoping he could cut this short. There was a wager running to do with the reigning actress, Betty Prickett, with Christian the favorite.

"Got a relative by the name Jack Hill, Grandiston?"

Christian returned his attention to Delahew. "Yes, sir."

"Dead?"

"Gads, I hope not." A spark of alarm fizzled. No one would send Delahew to inform him of a death in the family. "Younger brother. About seven years of age."

"Ah." Delahew drank. "Thought you might be able to cut through a knot."

"Sorry not to be able to help, sir." Christian drained his glass and declined more, hoping that was it. "I could ask my father. There might be a family reason he called a son John — that's Jack's baptismal name — though now I think of it, he'd been reduced to using the evangelists by the twelfth child."

"Twelve?" Delahew stared.

"Ninth was Matt, sir, then Mark, Luke, and Jack."

"All surviving?"

"My parents haven't lost a one."

"Twelve," Delahew said, shaking his head. It could have been admiring, but Christian supposed he was thinking it unnatural in the extreme.

"Thirteen, actually, sir," Christian said, to rub the salt in. "Benjamin, aged three."

Silence fell. Christian glanced at the door. His friends were leaving. "This other Hill in trouble, sir? "

"No, no," Delahew worked his heavy jaw as if chewing stringy meat. "Letter came from York asking for any information about a Jack Hill, regiment unknown, rank unknown, but an officer said to have died at Quebec. No one of that name in the casualty lists there. Probably an inheritance issue, but I'm not about to order a search of records on a fool's chase like that."

"No, of course not. Get many like that, sir?"

The offices of the Horse Guards had become the headquarters for administration of the whole army.

"Every now and then. Even more difficult if it's one of the common men. Many are illiterate so their names end up spelled by guess, and they often enlist under a false one, trying to escape the law or some woman."

He drained his glass. "Charging the enemy's guns is a damned sight easier than paper pushing, I can tell you."

"I'm sure it is, sir." Christian judged the moment right and rose. "I'll ask my father, but 'Hill' is such a common name. There might be no connection at all."

"My regards to Lord Royland. Sorry to have bothered you."

Christian lied and assured him it had been no bother at all, and caught up with his friends as they were climbing into a carriage.

"Come on!" Balderson called, and dragged him into the overcrowded coach just before it lurched off. "Even though you'll capture the citadel, you handsome bastard, and a future earl to boot."

"If I were a bastard, I wouldn't be in line to inherit, would I? Which would make my life a damned sight easier. I wouldn't be the prime target of all those husband hunters."

The young men all gave theatrical groans.

"And we can't even avoid them," said plump Lavalley. "Plaguey hostesses seem to think Guards officers exist for their convenience."

"Wouldn't mind being caught by a rich husband hunter," said Greatorix, "but they want to buy a title."

True enough, Christian thought, squeezed into a corner with an elbow sticking into his ribs. What's more, an impoverished tile beckoned a predatory heiress like a wounded rabbit appealed to a fox.

He was certainly no richer than he'd ever been. The earldom had increased his father's income, but when a man has thirteen sons and daughters all needing their start in the world, he needs every penny.

That was why Christian's presence at court and in the upper circles of power should serve the family. Juicy posts, privileges, and sinecures were always floating around. He was willing to do his best there, but he was balking at his father's latest strategy — using Christian as bait to bring a rich heiress into the fold.

He put that out of his mind and turned his attention to enjoying the evening. The play was excellent and the farce suitably ribald. In the greenroom he made progress with the pretty Prickett, but she wasn't willing to be captured yet.

It was only later, rolling home drunk and merry in another overcrowded carriage, that Delahew's question popped into his mind again."

"Zeus!"

It was too noisy for most to hear, but Arniston, crushed up against him, slurred, "If you're going to puke, Hill, turn the other way."

Christian ignored him, the name "Jack Hill" echoing in his mind. The name he'd given for that ridiculous marriage — how long ago? His sozzled brain protested arithmetic, but it had been just before he sailed. A bit over ten years, then.

But in all that time, it had been as if it hadn't happened.

Moore's death had been reported as a drunken brawl with an anonymous opponent. The Froggart woman's doing, he supposed, and he was grateful to her for that, at least. No one in the regiment had doubted the story. Everyone assumed that the girl's vengeful relatives had done for him, and the news that she was only fourteen had meant everyone applauded the deed.

Fourteen.

When a vague story had circulated that a wedding had been involved, it had been assumed that Moore had married her and that his death had ended it. Within days, the regiment had begun its preparations for departure, and that had been that.

There'd been the long sea voyage, with him sick as a dog for half of it, and then the excitement of a new world and the demands of learning to lead and fight. Somewhere in the midst of it he'd received a letter from the aunt to inform him that the girl was dead. He'd been sorry for her short life, but he couldn't claim any deep concern.

After that, he'd given it not a thought. Until now.

Someone in Yorkshire was inquiring about Jack Hill.

There couldn't be any connection, but an icy worm was creeping down his back, and he'd learned to pay heed to it.

What if the letter had been a lie, and his bride still lived?

He didn't want to be married. Growing up in a modest manor house bustling with infants cured a man of that, and one advantage of having seven healthy brothers was that his father had never pressed him on the matter.

Until now — not to secure the line, but to ensure the family's fortunes by hooking wealth through marriage.

Christian knew his father wasn't motivated only by money. When the ear came to Town for Parliament, he shook his head over his son's "solitary state" — struth, did he not understand barracks life? — and lack of wifely comforts. Christian didn't think his father could be as naïve as to assume him celibate, so he assumed he meant a well-managed household. And children.

Christian shuddered.

His father, both his parents, were dear souls and a loving couple. So much so that they produced children constantly. After him had come Mary, Sarah, Tom, Margaret, Anne, Elizabeth, and Kit. Then the easily remembered Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, and finally, he hoped, Benjamin. Surely his mother must be past childbearing age now.

He had no memory of his solitary reign as eldest, but a clear one of a new baby every couple of years, demanding attention and filling the household fuller and fuller. No wonder he'd been keen to escape when the opportunity presented.

He'd been ten, and Lisa was squalling in her cradle when his father had been approached by the guardians of the young Duke of Ithorne, one of whom had been Christian's uncle. Thorn's father had died before he was born, so he'd been born a duke and an only child. His guardians had belatedly realized he needed a companion of his own age, and Christian had been the lucky choice.

He remembered his parents' tears, but they'd seen the value of the opportunity. With boyhood callousness, Christian had felt nothing but the thrill of adventure. He'd traveled to Ithorne Castle to become the young Duke's foster brother with all the space anyone could want, and everything else as well — horses, boats, weapons, travel.

Thorn.

He was in Town at the moment, and his level head could be useful. Christian would stroll around for a visit tomorrow and talk this over. Delahew's query had to be some wild coincidence. His long-forgotten bride couldn't be stirring from the grave.

"Hill, m'man!" Someone poked him hard. "Wake up."

"Not asleep, and it Grandiston."

"Well, I beg your pardon, your damned grandstandandiston!"

Struth, it was Pauley and he was a fighting drunk.

"No offense, Pauley. As you say, half asleep and with weird dreams. Dreamt I was married."

The whole coach rocked with the cries of alarm, and as it pulled to a stop, the bunch of young bachelors tumbled out laughing to stagger off to their beds."

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Customer Reviews

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 21 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted July 6, 2009

    Ugh, did I hate this

    The writing is fine, the imagery is fine, the plot could have worked. The characters are disastrous! The female protagonist is VERY questionable...who sleeps with a man that she knows nothing about and thinks is 1)a killer 2)a fortune hunter and 3)terrorizer of women? Could we respect her at all? A woman who was raped years ago and has finally overcome those fears not by meeting someone kind-hearted and patient and loving her but a man who seduces her in a space of 5 minutes. Ugh, hated it.
    The male protagonist is reckless, thoughtless and only has his looks to recommend him. He also has no problems with one-night stands and relies on the "pull-and-pray" method for contraception. There were other methods at the time and I hope no one reading this thinks its a great idea...there were tons of deadly diseases then too.
    Their great passion made me feel gross...there's certainly less magic than lust. Even when she thinks he is all wrong for her, she sleeps with him often. When she finds out they're married, suddenly she can't do anything until she knows he's the right one! Talk about putting the cart before the horse. "Sure, I'd risk pregnancy with a stranger and embarrass my fiance before but now it just seems wrong."
    There's a random poisonings, oddly coincidental mad murderesses, self-righteous companions, and unnecessary side characters. My least favorite scene is when he drags her about because he thinks she's an assassin...FOR NO REASON. She rants about his ridiculousness and then gets caught being naughty with him in a public place. Yes, they are two adventurous hearts who have finally found each other and shake up the future earldom, etc. But pity the kids that could come from these selfish wack-jobs.
    Sorry for the rant. I've read Beverley before and thought her palatable if not my favorite. This made me roll my eyes and wonder at her popularity.

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 6, 2009

    Decent Read

    The book lagged a bit in the middle. I still enjoyed it and would recommend it to those who are die hard romantic readers. It just wasn't that page turner you often get from Jo Beverley, but it wasn't a bad or boring book. Middle of the road - great for a rainy day.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted May 14, 2009

    Not a good as I'd hoped from past stories

    After reading "A Lady's Secret" and admiring how secrecy of pupose and identity worked with the story line, I looked foward to how a 'forgotten' marriage could be used to bring the two people together. Instead what we got were two adolescents in adult roles. All through the story, each thinks the worst of the other without really bothering to find out the truth.
    I will keep it for the collection but wouldn't want to take this journey with them again. Bring on the last of the trio's story, the Captains'

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted February 24, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    A fabulous intelligent tale

    Heiress Caro Hill believes she is a widow, but has no definitive proof her spouse died. Since the wealthy Caro is considering remarrying, she needs to learn whether Jack Hill died as she assumes he did.

    Army officer Christian Hill, Viscount Grandiston, is concerned as he hears rumors about someone asking questions re Jack Hill. He can answer the probe personally since a decade ago back in 1754 in Yorkshire he as Jack Hill married Dorcas Froggatt after killing her fiancé Moore; he admits to himself he never gave his bride a second thought until now as he believed he was a widower. Now he wonders whether Dorcas is alive. In London going by the name Mr. Grandiston he investigates the investigator looking for Jack Hill while Caro masquerades as several people to thwart any threat to her owning a cutlery business.

    The second not so "Secret" Georgian romance (see A LADY'S SECRET) is a fabulous intelligent tale starring two lead characters masquerading as others in order to conceal their true identity while falling in love with their spouse. A comedy of manners, misconceptions and mistakes, Jo Beverly provides an amusing historical with a touch of suspense and a hint of scandal as you like it.

    Harriet Klausner

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted June 15, 2009

    Jo Beverley is always a good read.

    All round good, just took to long for them to figure out who each other was, drove me crazy.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 30, 2009

    Buy this!

    Jo Beverly is one of my favorite authors. I look forward to every book she writes. This one is very good. Lots of plot!

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