The Seduction of an English Scoundrel (Boscastle Family Series #1)

( 54 )

Overview

Award-winning author Jillian Hunter pens a delightful romp of passion and tantalizing trickery proving all is fair in matters of love.

It would have been the wedding of the year–had the groom, Sir Nigel Boscastle, bothered to put in an appearance. To the shock of her distinguished guests, the respectable Lady Jane Welsham is left humiliated at the altar. Yet truth be told, although outwardly ruined she is elated to have escaped marriage to a ...

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The Seduction of an English Scoundrel (Boscastle Family Series #1)

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Overview

Award-winning author Jillian Hunter pens a delightful romp of passion and tantalizing trickery proving all is fair in matters of love.

It would have been the wedding of the year–had the groom, Sir Nigel Boscastle, bothered to put in an appearance. To the shock of her distinguished guests, the respectable Lady Jane Welsham is left humiliated at the altar. Yet truth be told, although outwardly ruined she is elated to have escaped marriage to a man she does not love.

Enter Grayson Boscastle, the irresistible Marquess of Sedgecroft (and cousin to Nigel). Grayson’s duty is clear: salvage the young lady’s pride and reestablish the family’s good name, while repairing his own tarnished reputation as one of London’s most notorious scoundrels. Their whirlwind affair is the talk of the ton. Yet nothing is as it seems between the bewitching Lady Jane, who knows that her wedding was cleverly sabotaged, and her charming rogue, as they are drawn into an amusing game of seduction and secrets.

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Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
The first in Hunter's new Regency trilogy focusing on the Boscastle family opens with beautiful bride Lady Jane Welsham left at the altar. The rakish Grayson Boscastle, who's both marquess of Sedgecroft and cousin of the groom, decides that as head of the family, he should redeem Jane's reputation. Sedgecroft won't take no for an answer, even when Jane emphatically refuses, so the couple embark on a round of social events that cements Jane's standing and sparks a romance between the unlikely pair. But Jane fears Sedgecroft's reaction when he learns her secret: the jilting was a sham fabricated with the groom, who wished to marry another. Telling himself he needs to teach her a lesson, Sedgecroft pretends to set Jane up as his mistress, even while he secretly plans to marry her. Dispirited by his dishonorable intentions, Jane still rushes into seduction. Readers may wonder why Jane bothers, as Sedgecroft regularly leaps over the line between alpha-male hero and egotistical bully. Hopefully, the next volume (The Love Affair of an English Lord, due out in June 2005) will feature a hero who understands that real love doesn't involve emotional ill-treatment and a heroine who won't accept anything less. Agent, Andrea Cirillo at the Jane Rotrosen Agency. (May) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.
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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780345461216
  • Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 4/26/2005
  • Series: Boscastle Family Series , #1
  • Format: Mass Market Paperback
  • Pages: 384
  • Sales rank: 643,782
  • Product dimensions: 4.20 (w) x 6.85 (h) x 1.02 (d)

Meet the Author

JILLIAN HUNTER is the author of nine critically acclaimed novels. She has received several awards, including the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award. Jillian Hunter lives in Southern California with her husband and three daughters.
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Read an Excerpt

Mayfair

London, England 1814

The Boscastle-Welsham marriage would have been the wedding of the year—if the groom had bothered to put in an appearance. Sir Nigel Boscastle was so noticeably absent from his own nuptials that the bride’s father had been forced to walk the long-suffering Lady Jane to the altar where, surrounded by a cluster of distraught bridesmaids, the wedding party minus the bridegroom waited. And waited.

“I shall deal with the corkbrain after the ceremony,” the distinguished seventh Earl of Belshire muttered as his daughter stood with her back to their bewildered guests. “The idiot will be late to his own funeral.”

After several minutes of confusion, the minister and bride’s parents decided that perhaps until the bridegroom arrived, Jane’s older brother, Simon, Viscount Tarleton, should stand in as temporary proxy. And so brother and abandoned bride stood. And stood.

At first no one doubted that Nigel would eventually show up to rescue Jane from this embarrassment. If, as one guest in the third pew remarked, he remembered what day it was.

After all, Sir Nigel was hardly known about town for his towering intellect, although his generosity had earned him a loyal following of friends.

The bride-to-be had not wished to be married at the popular St. George’s Church in Hanover Square. A respectable young lady never previously involved in scandal, she avoided fussy affairs as a rule. Yet today the haut ton were crammed to capacity inside the private chapel of the Marquess of Sedgecroft’s Park Lane mansion. To witness a wedding that apparently would not take place.

Lady Jane Welsham, the guests agreed, resembled a royal princess. She positively glowed in an eggshell white satin dress worn over an ivory tissue underbodice. The scalloped hem of the dress foamed daintily around her pearl-seeded slippers. A flowing veil of Honiton lace framed her face, casting in shadow whatever emotion it revealed, to the disappointment of her enrapt audience.

The bouquet of white rosebuds she held glistened from a double-dipping in gilt. White kidskin gloves encased her slender hands, hands that remained remarkably steady considering that their owner was undergoing one of the worst humiliations in a young woman’s life. To be abandoned at the altar.

What could have happened?

Everyone in London knew that the parents of both parties had been planning this wedding since Jane and Nigel had toddled about the nursery in nappies. The Society papers had remarked more than once that rarely had a betrothed couple seemed so compatible.

What had gone wrong?

The bride’s sister Lady Caroline bitterly remarked, “Those flowers will have dried into a sachet if Nigel takes any longer. I shall strangle him for this.”

Her younger sister, Lady Miranda, shook her head in sympathy. “Poor Nigel. Do you think he might have gotten lost? Jane did say he required a map to find his carriage.”

Caroline’s golden-brown eyes narrowed in contemplation. “She’s holding up well under the humiliation, isn’t she?”

“Would you expect less of a Welsham?” Miranda whispered back.

“I don’t know,” Caroline replied, “but I daresay that such bad behavior is probably typical of the Boscastle male. For all his gentle ways, Nigel did descend from one of the most notorious bloodlines in England. Just look at our host Sedgecroft over there, lounging like the lord of lions in his pew with his ladybirds around him.”

“His what?” Miranda asked in a scandalized whisper.

“I can hardly shout out the word, Miranda. That woman in the deep pink dress is Lady Greenhall, his last lover.”

“And he brought her here, to Jane’s wedding?”

“If there is one.”

“Well, his brothers are said to be no better,” Miranda added. “The lot of them should have their foreheads branded with an R for rogue.”

“I wonder what Sedgecroft thinks of all this,” Caroline murmured. “He does not look exactly pleased, does he?”

The host in question, the chapel’s owner, Grayson Boscastle, the fifth Marquess of Sedgecroft, sat thinking that the bride had the most appealing derriere he had seen in quite a long time. Not that he made a point of lusting after young women in wedding dresses, but he had been staring at the back of her for over two hours now. A normal man’s curiosity could not help but be aroused. What else was he to look at? He wondered whether the rest of her was as appealing.

Besides, he was pointedly ignoring the guests in his family’s pews: various cousins and dozing uncles; two former mistresses, one of whom had brought along her bumpkin sons; and his three younger brothers, who were sprawled out in irreverent disregard for the holy ceremony.

If the ceremony ever came to its usual unhappy conclusion, that is, the entrapment of another man in wedlock.

His brother, Lieutenant Colonel Lord Heath Boscastle, leaned forward from the pew behind him. “What do you think?” he asked in amusement. “Should we start taking bets on whether he’ll show?”

“He’d better show or answer to me,” Grayson said darkly. “I’ve spent half a day already staring at—well, staring at something usually reserved for a husband’s eyes, let us say.” Nigel happened to be their cousin, a Boscastle whom Grayson actually liked, although at the moment he felt like clobbering him for being such a dolt.

A grin broke across Heath’s handsome face. “The last time I saw such a collection of Boscastles in church was at Father’s funeral. Who invited the mistresses?”

“I think I did,” Grayson said, suppressing a yawn. “God knows I’ve been sitting here so long my brain’s gone stiff.”

“You invited them to a wedding?”

“It’s not my wedding, thank God.”

“Well, it is your chapel.”

“Ergo, I invite whom I please.”

“Someone might have thought to invite the groom.”

Grayson folded his arms across the chest of his charcoal gray long-tailed coat. “This thing has gone on so long I’m tempted to marry the woman myself.”

“Say it isn’t so.”

Grayson gave a deep laugh. “It isn’t.”

“By the way,” Heath said, stifling his own laughter, “I had to refuse a supper invitation for the pair of us at Audrey’s last evening. Where the blazes were you when I called?”

Grayson grunted. “Flushing Drake and Devon out of gaming hells so we could put on a pretense of family approval for this wedding.”

“I thought nuptials made you nervous.”

Grayson’s blue eyes glittered with devilish lights. “The avowed bachelor in me is dying by the moment.”

Heath’s grin faded. “And the soldier in me senses the trouble has only begun. How is the hot-blooded Helene?”

“Considerably cooler the last time I saw her, at least toward me. We did not come to an arrangement.”

“Ah. So, anyone new caught your eye?”

“No.”

“No, Gray? Not yet?”

Grayson glanced around. Two of his former mistresses appeared to be engaged in a battle of frosty glares. Open hostilities seemed possible.

His younger brothers, Drake and Devon, and one of Drake’s disreputable gambling friends had been discussing a certain young demirep they had met last night. The discussion had escalated to an argument when the trio discovered she had promised herself to them all. A fight seemed inevitable.

Chloe, the younger of Grayson’s two sisters, leaned from her pew to whisper to the bridesmaids, all of whom looked more upset than the bride.

Seeded like grenades amid these three dangerous camps sat a small but select group of the beau monde. Politicians, aristocrats, debutantes, and marriage-bent matrons who regarded Grayson much like a fortress to be seized.

He placed his fingers inside his neckcloth as if to ward off the marriage noose. It undid him, the air of holy matrimony, the warring mistresses, the militant bridesmaids, the responsibilities he had inherited almost overnight. No one, least of all him, had expected the sudden death of his father last year when the marquess had learned that his youngest son, Brandon, had been killed in Nepal. Grayson still blamed himself for not being there to deliver the news.

The weight of family obligation had fallen upon his broad shoulders like a shroud. There had been so many questions he longed to ask his father, and now it was too late. The selfish pursuits he had so enjoyed suddenly held no appeal. He could find little pleasure in his previous life.

He did not like the man he had become, and lately had begun to wonder if he could ever change.

And now this, his first public test as patriarch of the Boscastle clan. How to handle the abandonment of the bride by his own cabbage head of a cousin.

“What does one do in such a situation?” he muttered to himself.

Heath shook his head, looking mystified. “It’s too bad our Emma is so far away in Scotland. She’d know exactly what to do.”

Emma, their older sister, had been recently widowed and was giving etiquette instructions to the elite of Edinburgh to occupy her empty hours.

Grayson returned to his leisurely, more enjoyable inspection of the bride’s heart-shaped backside. Very, very nice, he thought. Not a bad choice at all for a bride, if one had to choose one. Of course, Nigel had already claimed her. A pity he hadn’t shown to pick up the package. Still, who knew what lurked in the shadows of that veil? A beauty or a beast? A siren or a shrew?

This provocative rake’s reverie ended when Heath tapped him on the shoulder to speak again. “The bride is quite lovely, isn’t she?”

“Hmm.” He steepled his fingers under his clefted chin, his expression neutral. “I haven’t made a study of it. I suppose she might be. It is hardly a thing I would notice.”

“You great liar, Grayson,” Heath said with a subdued laugh. “Those blue eyes of yours are absorbing every detail right down to her garters.”

Well, some of his less admirable qualities had not changed. He was still a man even if he wasn’t sure of anything else.

“That is a rather crude remark to be making in chapel, Heath,” he said with mock piety, as he eyed his once-mistress Mrs. Parks from the other end of the pew, where she sat between her two boisterous offspring from a previous affair. She had been a successful mantua maker when she’d taken up three years ago with Grayson. His generous pension had left her nicely settled for life, and she maintained a friendly relationship with him. “Need I remind you, dear brother, that we are in a holy sanctuary?”

“Is this your first time here, Grayson?” Heath inquired in a droll voice.

“Second,” he whispered, clearing his throat.

He took another look around the chapel. One of the bridesmaids had started crying. The bride was comforting her. The guests were definitely becoming restless, squirming in their seats, wondering in whispers what was to happen. He was going to have to take action soon, make up some ludicrous excuse for Nigel’s behavior. He began practicing in his mind.

It was highly improbable, but he could not rule out the possibility that his blasted fool of a cousin had fallen down the stairs in one of his satin slippers and knocked himself unconscious. The guests who knew Nigel would not find this difficult to believe.

He turned his attention back to the appealing figure who stood at the altar with her white shoulders held high. A man would have to possess a heart of stone not to feel some empathy, some urge to protect her from the pain his own relative had inflicted.

He spoke quietly to Heath. “One has to admire her for not bursting into hysterical tears or shredding her flowers in a fit as a few other women I know might have done.” And with this, he directed a teasing frown at Lady Greenhall and Mrs. Parks, neither of whom were known for their submissiveness.

From one of the pews on the same side of the nave, an elderly MP had just been awakened by his wife. In a befuddled shout, he asked if the accursed wedding was over yet.

“It never began,” Mrs. Parks whispered to him in embarrassment. “The groom appears to have gone missing.”

The gentleman shook his head, gazing in pity at the abandoned heroine at the altar. “She’s bearing up well, I’d say,” he said gruffly. “Stoic, like her father. That’s the stuff of old stock. Welsham backbone can’t be broken.”

“The poor innocent must be shattered,” Mrs. Parks murmured, sniffing back tears. “To be jilted by the man she has loved her entire life. I wonder what she thinks of this.”

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First Chapter

The Seduction of an English Scoundrel


By Jillian Hunter

Random House

Jillian Hunter
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0345461215


Chapter One

Mayfair

London, England 1814

The Boscastle-Welsham marriage would have been the wedding of the year—if the groom had bothered to put in an appearance. Sir Nigel Boscastle was so noticeably absent from his own nuptials that the bride's father had been forced to walk the long-suffering Lady Jane to the altar where, surrounded by a cluster of distraught bridesmaids, the wedding party minus the bridegroom waited. And waited.

“I shall deal with the corkbrain after the ceremony,” the distinguished seventh Earl of Belshire muttered as his daughter stood with her back to their bewildered guests. “The idiot will be late to his own funeral.”

After several minutes of confusion, the minister and bride's parents decided that perhaps until the bridegroom arrived, Jane's older brother, Simon, Viscount Tarleton, should stand in as temporary proxy. And so brother and abandoned bride stood. And stood.

At first no one doubted that Nigel would eventually show up to rescue Jane from this embarrassment. If, as one guest in the third pew remarked, he remembered what day it was.

After all, Sir Nigel was hardly known about town for his towering intellect, although his generosity had earned him a loyal following of friends.

The bride-to-be had not wished to be married at the popular St. George's Church in Hanover Square. A respectable young lady never previously involved in scandal, she avoided fussy affairs as a rule. Yet today the haut ton were crammed to capacity inside the private chapel of the Marquess of Sedgecroft's Park Lane mansion. To witness a wedding that apparently would not take place.

Lady Jane Welsham, the guests agreed, resembled a royal princess. She positively glowed in an eggshell white satin dress worn over an ivory tissue underbodice. The scalloped hem of the dress foamed daintily around her pearl-seeded slippers. A flowing veil of Honiton lace framed her face, casting in shadow whatever emotion it revealed, to the disappointment of her enrapt audience.

The bouquet of white rosebuds she held glistened from a double-dipping in gilt. White kidskin gloves encased her slender hands, hands that remained remarkably steady considering that their owner was undergoing one of the worst humiliations in a young woman's life. To be abandoned at the altar.

What could have happened?

Everyone in London knew that the parents of both parties had been planning this wedding since Jane and Nigel had toddled about the nursery in nappies. The Society papers had remarked more than once that rarely had a betrothed couple seemed so compatible.

What had gone wrong?

The bride's sister Lady Caroline bitterly remarked, “Those flowers will have dried into a sachet if Nigel takes any longer. I shall strangle him for this.”

Her younger sister, Lady Miranda, shook her head in sympathy. “Poor Nigel. Do you think he might have gotten lost? Jane did say he required a map to find his carriage.”

Caroline's golden-brown eyes narrowed in contemplation. “She's holding up well under the humiliation, isn't she?”

“Would you expect less of a Welsham?” Miranda whispered back.

“I don't know,” Caroline replied, “but I daresay that such bad behavior is probably typical of the Boscastle male. For all his gentle ways, Nigel did descend from one of the most notorious bloodlines in England. Just look at our host Sedgecroft over there, lounging like the lord of lions in his pew with his ladybirds around him.”

“His what?” Miranda asked in a scandalized whisper.

“I can hardly shout out the word, Miranda. That woman in the deep pink dress is Lady Greenhall, his last lover.”

“And he brought her here, to Jane's wedding?”

“If there is one.”

“Well, his brothers are said to be no better,” Miranda added. “The lot of them should have their foreheads branded with an R for rogue.”

“I wonder what Sedgecroft thinks of all this,” Caroline murmured. “He does not look exactly pleased, does he?”

The host in question, the chapel's owner, Grayson Boscastle, the fifth Marquess of Sedgecroft, sat thinking that the bride had the most appealing derriere he had seen in quite a long time. Not that he made a point of lusting after young women in wedding dresses, but he had been staring at the back of her for over two hours now. A normal man's curiosity could not help but be aroused. What else was he to look at? He wondered whether the rest of her was as appealing.

Besides, he was pointedly ignoring the guests in his family's pews: various cousins and dozing uncles; two former mistresses, one of whom had brought along her bumpkin sons; and his three younger brothers, who were sprawled out in irreverent disregard for the holy ceremony.

If the ceremony ever came to its usual unhappy conclusion, that is, the entrapment of another man in wedlock.

His brother, Lieutenant Colonel Lord Heath Boscastle, leaned forward from the pew behind him. “What do you think?” he asked in amusement. “Should we start taking bets on whether he'll show?”

“He'd better show or answer to me,” Grayson said darkly. “I've spent half a day already staring at—well, staring at something usually reserved for a husband's eyes, let us say.” Nigel happened to be their cousin, a Boscastle whom Grayson actually liked, although at the moment he felt like clobbering him for being such a dolt.

A grin broke across Heath's handsome face. “The last time I saw such a collection of Boscastles in church was at Father's funeral. Who invited the mistresses?”

“I think I did,” Grayson said, suppressing a yawn. “God knows I've been sitting here so long my brain's gone stiff.”

“You invited them to a wedding?”

“It's not my wedding, thank God.”

“Well, it is your chapel.”

“Ergo, I invite whom I please.”

“Someone might have thought to invite the groom.”

Grayson folded his arms across the chest of his charcoal gray long-tailed coat. “This thing has gone on so long I'm tempted to marry the woman myself.”

“Say it isn't so.”

Grayson gave a deep laugh. “It isn't.”

“By the way,” Heath said, stifling his own laughter, “I had to refuse a supper invitation for the pair of us at Audrey's last evening. Where the blazes were you when I called?”

Grayson grunted. “Flushing Drake and Devon out of gaming hells so we could put on a pretense of family approval for this wedding.”

“I thought nuptials made you nervous.”

Grayson's blue eyes glittered with devilish lights. “The avowed bachelor in me is dying by the moment.”

Heath's grin faded. “And the soldier in me senses the trouble has only begun. How is the hot-blooded Helene?”

“Considerably cooler the last time I saw her, at least toward me. We did not come to an arrangement.”

“Ah. So, anyone new caught your eye?”

“No.”

“No, Gray? Not yet?”

Grayson glanced around. Two of his former mistresses appeared to be engaged in a battle of frosty glares. Open hostilities seemed possible.

His younger brothers, Drake and Devon, and one of Drake's disreputable gambling friends had been discussing a certain young demirep they had met last night. The discussion had escalated to an argument when the trio discovered she had promised herself to them all. A fight seemed inevitable.

Chloe, the younger of Grayson's two sisters, leaned from her pew to whisper to the bridesmaids, all of whom looked more upset than the bride.

Seeded like grenades amid these three dangerous camps sat a small but select group of the beau monde. Politicians, aristocrats, debutantes, and marriage-bent matrons who regarded Grayson much like a fortress to be seized.

He placed his fingers inside his neckcloth as if to ward off the marriage noose. It undid him, the air of holy matrimony, the warring mistresses, the militant bridesmaids, the responsibilities he had inherited almost overnight. No one, least of all him, had expected the sudden death of his father last year when the marquess had learned that his youngest son, Brandon, had been killed in Nepal. Grayson still blamed himself for not being there to deliver the news.

The weight of family obligation had fallen upon his broad shoulders like a shroud. There had been so many questions he longed to ask his father, and now it was too late. The selfish pursuits he had so enjoyed suddenly held no appeal. He could find little pleasure in his previous life.

He did not like the man he had become, and lately had begun to wonder if he could ever change.

And now this, his first public test as patriarch of the Boscastle clan. How to handle the abandonment of the bride by his own cabbage head of a cousin.

“What does one do in such a situation?” he muttered to himself.

Heath shook his head, looking mystified. “It's too bad our Emma is so far away in Scotland. She'd know exactly what to do.”

Emma, their older sister, had been recently widowed and was giving etiquette instructions to the elite of Edinburgh to occupy her empty hours.

Grayson returned to his leisurely, more enjoyable inspection of the bride's heart-shaped backside. Very, very nice, he thought. Not a bad choice at all for a bride, if one had to choose one. Of course, Nigel had already claimed her. A pity he hadn't shown to pick up the package. Still, who knew what lurked in the shadows of that veil? A beauty or a beast? A siren or a shrew?

This provocative rake's reverie ended when Heath tapped him on the shoulder to speak again. “The bride is quite lovely, isn't she?”

“Hmm.” He steepled his fingers under his clefted chin, his expression neutral. “I haven't made a study of it. I suppose she might be. It is hardly a thing I would notice.”

“You great liar, Grayson,” Heath said with a subdued laugh. “Those blue eyes of yours are absorbing every detail right down to her garters.”

Well, some of his less admirable qualities had not changed. He was still a man even if he wasn't sure of anything else.

“That is a rather crude remark to be making in chapel, Heath,” he said with mock piety, as he eyed his once-mistress Mrs. Parks from the other end of the pew, where she sat between her two boisterous offspring from a previous affair. She had been a successful mantua maker when she'd taken up three years ago with Grayson. His generous pension had left her nicely settled for life, and she maintained a friendly relationship with him. “Need I remind you, dear brother, that we are in a holy sanctuary?”

“Is this your first time here, Grayson?” Heath inquired in a droll voice.

“Second,” he whispered, clearing his throat.

He took another look around the chapel. One of the bridesmaids had started crying. The bride was comforting her. The guests were definitely becoming restless, squirming in their seats, wondering in whispers what was to happen. He was going to have to take action soon, make up some ludicrous excuse for Nigel's behavior. He began practicing in his mind.

It was highly improbable, but he could not rule out the possibility that his blasted fool of a cousin had fallen down the stairs in one of his satin slippers and knocked himself unconscious. The guests who knew Nigel would not find this difficult to believe.

He turned his attention back to the appealing figure who stood at the altar with her white shoulders held high. A man would have to possess a heart of stone not to feel some empathy, some urge to protect her from the pain his own relative had inflicted.

He spoke quietly to Heath. “One has to admire her for not bursting into hysterical tears or shredding her flowers in a fit as a few other women I know might have done.” And with this, he directed a teasing frown at Lady Greenhall and Mrs. Parks, neither of whom were known for their submissiveness.

From one of the pews on the same side of the nave, an elderly MP had just been awakened by his wife. In a befuddled shout, he asked if the accursed wedding was over yet.

“It never began,” Mrs. Parks whispered to him in embarrassment. “The groom appears to have gone missing.”

The gentleman shook his head, gazing in pity at the abandoned heroine at the altar. “She's bearing up well, I'd say,” he said gruffly. “Stoic, like her father. That's the stuff of old stock. Welsham backbone can't be broken.”

“The poor innocent must be shattered,” Mrs. Parks murmured, sniffing back tears. “To be jilted by the man she has loved her entire life. I wonder what she thinks of this.”



Excerpted from The Seduction of an English Scoundrel by Jillian Hunter Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 54 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted October 8, 2005

    Prepare to laugh alot in this book...

    I am an avid historical romance reader for over 20 years now (since high school). I left for a few years as the stories were getting boring and predictable and the characters just plain dull. I came back this year and found a few new authors - Jillian Hunter being one. I just finished the book last night and was very pleased with the result. I really enjoyed the story of Grayson and Jane from beginning to end. I liked that Jane was a strong, smart, funny and attractive woman and Grayson was equally appealing in all ways. I felt from the beginning they were an excellent match. As many other reviewers noted, this is a very funny read. The banter back and forth between these two is excellent and you are bound to smile often during your reading of it. The love scenes are descriptive and sexy without being too dirty (it's about romance not porn) some authors forget that. The story line was a bit predictable but, Jilllian Hunter had a great way to keep the game going between the two of them so, that each had victories along the way. In the end of course, the victory was shared - as it should be. I really liked these characters and was sad to see the story end. It's nice to feel as if they come alive when an author does a good job developing them throughout the story line. The secondary characters in the book - her parents & brother, his sisters and brothers and some of their friends was nice to see too. It gave more dimension to the story than just the hero and heroine. I'm confident anyone that reads this will be pleased. I say buy it, read it, add it to your library and do not lend it out - you won't get it back! Enjoy.

    3 out of 4 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 29, 2005

    Another Hit for Jillian Hunter

    One of the things I love the most about Jillian Hunter's books is her wit. Her sense of humor is evident and often catches the reader off guard causing them to burst out chuckling. This sense of humor is again predominant in The Seduction of an English Scoundrel. Grayson Boscastle, Marquess of Sedgecroft, comes to the aid of Lady Jane Welsham when she is disgraced by being left at the alter by his cousin, Nigel. Little did Grayson know that the jilting was an elaborate plan between Nigel and Jane, so the arranged marriage would not happen. Grayson then agrees to escort Jane to try to help elevate her social status so she won't become a spinster. He didn't bargain for the instant chemistry between the two. There are lots of fireworks in this book! Seems Jane and Grayson can't keep their hands (or lips) off each other whenever they are alone, and soon the attraction becomes irrestible and much more than Grayson bargained for. But when Grayson finds out about the ruse of a wedding, he decides to get even with Jane before asking for her hand in marriage. This is where Hunter shines - the banter between the two has the reader actually laughing out a few times. Grayson has a plan to pay back Jane for her deception. Jane finds out about it and turns the tables on Grayson with her own plan for payback. But in the end, all is well in London. The character development is supurb. The reader can choose which main chacter to cheer on - Jane or Grayson - hoping that one outdoes the other's antics. No matter which side you choose, you'll still be the winner in reading this book! We are given glimpses of the inner sides of the characters, as they are developed. We're instantly smitten with Jane's determination to not have her life dictated by her parents. We're enchanted by Grayson who is a lovable rascal trying to do the right thing now that he is head of the family. The plot line was good but on the predictible side. Even so, it is very entertaining and leaves the reader with a smile. The side plots are very funny and keep things interesting. The interlude between Nigel and his wife (previous governess to the Boscastle clan) is absolutely hilarious! This is the first book in a trilogy by Jillian Hunter. If the other two are as much fun to read and as interesting, I can't wait for them to become available! My only complaint is Ms. Hunter needs to write faster, as I hate waiting for the next book to be published. Ok, so maybe I'm impatient, but that's how I am with my favorite authors! If you haven't read any of her previous books, try this one - you'll become a Jillian Hunter fan too!

    3 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 30, 2005

    A wonderful beginning.

    Lady Jane Welsham had been promised to Sir Nigel Boscastle since birth. They grew up as close friends. Though they did not love each other, Society expected them to someday wed. However, upon her wedding day Lady Jane is jilted. Sir Nigel has run off. ............................................. Lady Jane is sent to her family's private mansion to recover from all the rumors and humiliation. Although ruined in the eyes of Society, she is delighted to have escaped a loveless marriage. No one knows that Jane has willingly sacrificed her reputation to gain her freedom. All was going according to plan. But then Grayson steps in. ............................................. Grayson Boscastle, Marquess of Sedgecrost, is furious when his cousin, Nigel, does not show up for his wedding. In fact, Nigel has disappeared with all his belongings. As the new head of the family, Grayson finds himself weary of his status as a scoundrel. He is determined to shed his past reputation. To do so, he sets out to salvage Lady Jane's pride and restore her honor. .................................................................... ...................... **** A terrific beginning to the Boscastle trilogy. The author has succeeded in giving all the secondary characters some fascinating depths without sacrificing the plot or story of the main characters in the least. This amusing tale of scandal is very well done and leaves me looking forward to Chloe's story. ****

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted December 9, 2008

    more from this reviewer

    straightforward pleasant Regency

    In 1814 London, Nigel Boscastle jilts his bride Jane Welsham who stands stoic at the altar by herself. As Nigel¿s cousin, host Grayson Sedgecroft knows he must do something to make this right as he admires Jane¿s butt that he has had a delightful look at for hours and her strength of character. Grayson offers his sympathy to Jane who knows that Nigel has eloped with his governess Esther. Grayson vows to make this right. --- While he sends his brother Heath to find the hiding groom, Grayson vows to make Jane acceptable in polite society by escorting her around town and fake a courtship so that others will follow his example. Still he cannot resist kissing her and both lose some control. Grayson begins escorting Jane not just because of noble intentions as he finds her intelligent and desirable. She reciprocates but worries once he learns the truth of her involvement with her fiancé¿s elopement.--- The cast of this fine Regency make for a delightful romance as the lead couple is a strong duo and the superb support characters, mostly their respective families, bring depth and insight to the protagonists as well as fun to the tale. To Jillian Hunter¿s credit, the entertaining story line contains no phony pretensions of late suspense, but instead satirizes that technique. More information about Esther would have clarified her age as she seems much older than he since she was his governess. Still that is minor while THE SEDUCTION OF AN ENGLISH SCOUNDREL is a straightforward pleasant story.--- Harriet Klausner

    2 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 21, 2013

    I have read six of the series so far.  It seems the first book i

    I have read six of the series so far.  It seems the first book in the series is ultimately my favorite.  In the first book, you seem to learn the names of  other siblings or characters so you want to read more books to learn about those characters also.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted January 16, 2010

    what a stinker.

    I have read several of this authors books in the past and found them delightful; this one however was ridiculous from start to finish. The author lost control of the plot and the characters by page 35. It then just became an excuse for a lot of gratuitous panting and groping, and lurid sex scenes with ridiculous underpinnings. It was almost as if the author changed her mind after the first few pages and decided to switch to an erotic book instead of a Regency, figuring I suppose that "sex sells". Too bad.. if the rest of her books have followed this line, I guess I will have to find a new author.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 5, 2007

    Loved It!

    My first Jillian Hunter (and first Boscastle novel), and I absolutely fell in love with Jane and Grayson. This book is witty, funny, and very romantic. Jillian Hunter writes very well, and I would highly recommend her. Don't hesitate to pick this one up!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted May 25, 2013

    Hilarious Romance

    This is one of the funniest romances I have read in a long time-the plot twists are great fun and I really like Jane and Sedgecroft.Some people may find the hero overbearing, but he means well, and Jane certainly manages to hold her own. I've read several other books in this series since I've read tis one, and I plan to read them all. I liked this one so much, I've already reread it twice.

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  • Posted January 26, 2012

    Highly Recommended

    I love Jillian Hunter's Boscastle novels. They are well written and well paced. When I'm reading one, I can't wait to see what's on the next page. I would, and do, recommend them to all my friends. They rank right up there with Stephanie Laurens' Cynster family novels.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 25, 2011

    Great!!!

    I didnt know what to expect when i bought this book. I will say that it was great to read. Im not really into all of the seduction stuff, but other then that it was a great book.

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  • Posted October 29, 2011

    Loved it!

    I loved the whole story! I'm already on the third one. I highly recommend!

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  • Posted August 8, 2010

    I love this book..

    I know many women are some what skeptical about whether or not a rake falls in love in and stays in love. But I must say, when I read these stories, it reminded me of my husband. He was a rake through and through, with no morals, and too many women to count. These authors know what they are talking about, when men like Grayson fall in love, it is forever, and very real.. I did not believe it at first, but ten years later I am still enjoying my wicked man.

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  • Posted July 16, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Grayson and Jane- I LOVED IT!

    Always one to love underdogs...I loved these two together immensely! Although I read the Boscastle series, not in order, I was so excited that I finally read about Grayson and Jane and their enchanting love story. Grayson is the head of the Boscastle family and is charming, gorgeous, and built like a brick (well, you know), and Jane is a witty and smart beauty. Jillian Hunter created the Boscastle family and I just can't get enough of them, and her sexual scenes are to die for! I recommend all of her books because I haven't read one yet that I didn't LOVE!!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 10, 2009

    Good writer

    Enjoy reading all of Jullian Hunter's books

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  • Anonymous

    Posted June 15, 2005

    COMFORTABLE READ

    THIS IS MY FIRST READ FROM THIS AUTHOR AND I WILL PURCHASE HER NEXT TWO BOOKS. ON A SENSUAL SCALE OF 1-10 IT IS A 6. THE MESSAGE HERE IS 'ONCE WE PRACTICE TO DECEIVE' AND NIGEL AND JOAN SURELY DID A LOT OF PRACTICING.JOAN SPENT THE MAJORITY--NO THE ENTIRE BOOK--SAYING NO TO GRAYSON AS SHE WAS DOING YES. WHICH ISN'T NECESSARILY A BAD THING IN A ROMANCE READ.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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    Posted January 30, 2013

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    Posted May 5, 2011

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    Posted October 7, 2011

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    Posted September 10, 2011

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