The Untamed Heiress [NOOK Book]


Imprisoned as a child by her spiteful father, Helena Lambarth vowed upon his death to never again live under a man's rule. But to honor her mother's last wish, she journeys to London to enter society--and finds herself a reluctant houseguest of the dashing Lord Darnell.

Adam, Lord Darnell, has little time to oversee the bedraggled hoyden he's agreed to sponsor. Saddled with his father's debts, he knows his one hope is to win the hand of wealthy Priscilla Standish. If only she ...

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The Untamed Heiress

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Imprisoned as a child by her spiteful father, Helena Lambarth vowed upon his death to never again live under a man's rule. But to honor her mother's last wish, she journeys to London to enter society--and finds herself a reluctant houseguest of the dashing Lord Darnell.

Adam, Lord Darnell, has little time to oversee the bedraggled hoyden he's agreed to sponsor. Saddled with his father's debts, he knows his one hope is to win the hand of wealthy Priscilla Standish. If only she weren't so ordinary compared to the unconventional Helena--and if only his waiflike ward hadn't suddenly transformed into a bewitching young woman...

The desire they spark in each other is undeniable. But can the love they try to resist conquer Helena's demons and free them both?

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781460305362
  • Publisher: Harlequin
  • Publication date: 10/15/2012
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Edition description: Original
  • Pages: 384
  • Sales rank: 455,967
  • File size: 910 KB

Meet the Author

Julia Justiss grew up breathing the scent of sea air near the colonial town of Annapolis, Maryland, a fact responsible for two of her lifelong passions: sailors and history!

In high school she worked as a junior guide for Historic Annapolis, conducting visitors on walking tours through the colonial city and to the town's other great attraction, the U.S. Naval Academy. That fond association with the navy led her to eventually marry a Naval Academy grad--and they now have a son at Annapolis.

But long before embarking on romantic adventures, she read about them, transporting herself vicariously to the pyramids of ancient Egypt, World War II submarine patrols in the South Pacific, the mansions of the Old South and the ballrooms of Regency England.

She also began writing in grade school. From jotting down story ideas for Nancy Drew mysteries in her third-grade spiral, she moved on to writing poetry in high school and college, then worked as a business journalist.

After her marriage to a naval lieutenant, she wrote the newsletter for the American Embassy in Tunis, Tunisia, and traveled extensively in Europe. In Tunis, she also completed her first Regency novel, which fortunately never made it farther than the inside of her desk drawer.

But she learned from that work and kept reading between children and moving twelve times in ten years. When her husband left the navy to return to his Texas homeland, she began her second novel, discovered Romance Writers of America and built an English Georgian house in the piney woods of East Texas, where, when she closes her eyes, she can almost imagine she inhabits the world of Pride andPrejudice.

That second novel, which she finished while working a day job as a high school French teacher, won RWA's Golden Heart Award for Regency in July 1996. Then in May 1998, her long-cherished dream of becoming a published writer came true when Margaret Marbury bought the revised manuscript for the Harlequin Historical line.

Her works, all set in the Regency period and generally including at least one military character, include: The Wedding Gamble (May 1999); A Scandalous Proposal (October 2000); the novella "An Honest Bargain" in the anthology The Officer's Bride (April 2001); The Proper Wife (July 2001); My Lady's Trust (January 2002); My Lady's Pleasure (June 2002); My Lady's Honor (October 2002); Seductive Stranger, in the two-in-one volume Forbidden Stranger (July 2003); Wicked Wager (November 2003); the novella "The Three Gifts," in the anthology Christmas Keepsakes (October 2005); and The Courtesan (December 2005).

She still teaches French and lives in that Georgian house with her husband, three children and two lazy dogs. Readers can reach her via her web site, or by writing to 179 County Rd. 4112, Daingerfield, TX 75638.
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Read an Excerpt

THE SHRIEKING WIND whipped her tangled black hair into her eyes as the sea crashed and foamed onto the rocks behind her. Ignoring both, Helena Lambarth kept her face turned inland toward the two laborers in the field beneath the cliffs, digging steadily into the stony soil.

The grave was almost ready.

Euphoria sent her spirits swooping like gulls on an updraft. A joyous burst of laughter trilled from her throat as she finally let herself believe it.

He was truly dead. She was free.

Though she knew any sound she made should have been lost in the cacophony of surf and cawing seabirds, one of the grave diggers paused to glance up.As he raised his arm to point, the second man saw her. A look of fear passing over his face, he crossed himself and batted his companion's hand back to his shovel.An instant later the two men went back to their task with renewed vigor.

Did they think her a ghostie? Helena wondered, her lips curving in a wry smile. Or did they remember her from that grim morning nine years ago when she'd managed to escape Lambarth Castle and flee to the village, only to have a group of townsmen, deaf to her pleas for help, quickly return the "poor, mad girl" to her father.

For a moment the memory engulfed her: standing, barefoot and sobbing, within a circle of wary onlookers who murmured to each other as they took in her torn clothing, dirty face and disheveled hair.

"Such a wee lass..."

"Mind's completely gone, her papa says..."

"Her mother's fault, running off like that..." Her lip curled as a familiar fury coursed through her. Papa's lies would keep her a prisoner no longer. Today she would leavethis accursed place and search for the mother from whose side she'd been ripped just as they were about to leave her father's land. The mother who, Helena believed with all her heart, had never stopped loving her.

A movement in the distance brought her attention back to the present. The grave diggers stood, shovels in hand, as the funeral procession picked its way down the narrow track from the castle to the small graveyard. Its listing markers and barren, windswept grounds were a picture of neglect but for this new grave and one other, just inside the rusted iron gate.

A pang pierced Helena's chest as her gaze rested on that still-unsettled mound of dirt hugging the boundary wall, its occupant an interloper in death as she had been in life. If "Mad Sally," the old hermit medicine woman dead two months now, had not lived in Lambarth's woods, Helena mused, she probably would not have survived her captivity.

Would Sally have been happy for her today? Helena wondered. Though the old woman babbled nonsense most of the time, in her occasional lucid moments, she'd displayed a shrewd perception. Along with some of the villagers, who crept into the woods begging Sally's help when the local doctor's efforts failed, Helena had also prized the woman's uncanny talent as a healer.

Others believed the chanting crone possessed dark powers and avoided her--which was why her father, ever the coward, had let the woman live on his land undisturbed. Helena, though, had never known Sally to use her skills except to succor and heal.

Another pang squeezed her heart. Vacant-headed or not, Mad Sally had been her only friend, and Helena still missed her keenly.

She took a deep, steadying breath. With the demise of her father, Helena hoped that the patrol he'd set to monitor the perimeter of Lambarth land would also have departed. But whether or not she met resistance from armed guards, she vowed, only her own death would keep her another night at Lambarth Castle.

Thus sworn, she watched the funeral procession file into the graveyard. Two farm workers carried the coffin, followed by a man whose flapping black robes identified him as the vicar, and Holmes, her father's baliff.

Not expecting any other mourners, Helena was surprised to discover another person trailing the coffin. A man, Helena realized as the muffled figure drew nearer. Someone she'd never seen before.

The vicar's assistant, perhaps? Since she'd not been off Lambarth property in nine years, there were probably several newcomers to the village she hadn't met.

The man's odd demeanor, though, held her attention. Rather than focusing on the preacher, whose moving lips over the open prayer book indicated he'd begun the funeral service, the man's gaze roved up, down, around the barren graveyard, as if he were searching for something.

Or someone. A moment later his questing eyes met hers. Defiantly, Helena held his gaze. After regarding her steadily for several minutes, he nodded.

Curious now, she nodded back. The stranger gave her a brief smile, then turned back to the preacher.

While Helena watched the minister continue to read the service, her mind raced back to something Mad Sally had told her shortly before her death. Not daring to place any credence in so unlikely a possibility, Helena had dismissed as another of the old woman's crazy mutterings the claim that Helena's mother had sent someone to watch over her. Someone who'd been waiting in the village for years for her father to grow ill or incapacitated enough for it to be safe to approach her.

Could Sally's message have been true? Might this man be the one?

She mustn't let excitement carry her away, she told herself, trying to rein in her rioting imagination. However, since she intended to set off in that direction anyway, it wouldn't hurt to trail the man back toward the village--assuming her expectations were correct and no armed guards remained at their posts to prevent her leaving.

The service concluded, the minister waited only until the two mourners had each tossed a handful of stony soil over the coffin before wrapping his robes about him and hurrying out of the graveyard, shoulders hunched against the wind. Without glancing at her again, the stranger followed, leaving the two grave diggers to their work.

Watching from her rocky perch as the group dispersed, Helena hugged her thin arms around the worn bodice of her outgrown dress. Since she'd long ago grown inured to the cold of the coastal wind and mist, the shiver that passed through her frame must be hope.


As if the words made no sense, Helena sat staring over the desk at the kindly visage of Mr. Pendenning, Mama's London solicitor. Except he wasn't Mama's solicitor anymore. Mama was dead.

The man at her father's funeral, Jerry Sunderland, had not known, the lawyer told her. He'd been sent to the village years earlier, after her mother's attempt to rescue her failed, with instructions to settle quietly, pursue his trade and wait until such time as he judged it safe to approach Helena with Mr. Pendenning's message.

Somehow, all through the long journey from the coast to London, she'd sensed it, though she'd forbidden her mind to even consider the possibility. Along with the lawyer's note, Jerry had given her money enough to make the trip in easy stages, but that amorphous, unnamed fear in her heart had driven her to travel night and day without rest. Oblivious to wind, rain and chill, she'd ridden much of the way on the roof of the mail coaches, unwilling to wait and reserve an inside seat on a later run. With that inner cadence pounding in her ears--hurry! hurry!--she'd done little more than numbly note the marvelous variety of terrain and the many occupations being practiced by the folk they passed on their route.

Exploring the wonders of the world now open to her was for later. Ignoring the pain in her ankles from the stiff shoes and the scratch of the rough wool cape Jerry had provided, she had clutched in her hands the slip of paper with the solicitor's address, her mind fixed on a single imperative: get to London. Find Mama.

But Mama would not be found, in London or elsewhere. For more than a year, Mr. Pendenning had just told her, Mama's brilliant smile and joyous laughter had been entombed on a small Caribbean island half a world away. The place where Gavin Seagrave, the man she'd loved and fled to, had settled after being forced to leave England.

There would be no reunion. The goal that had sustained her through beatings and isolation and deprivation, that had given her hope and steeled her to persevere, had vanished like snow in a hot noon sun.

For the first time in her life, Helena felt truly alone. "What am I to do now?" she whispered, unaware she'd spoken the words out loud. "Live your life, my child," Mr. Pendenning said gently. "I corresponded with your mother for years and can with confidence, I believe, offer you the advice she would have given. After her health began to fail and she accepted the painful fact that she would probably not outlive your father, it became her single goal to arrange her affairs so that once you were free, you would have the means to do whatever you wished. And though I haven't yet received the particulars from your father's attorneys, as his sole heiress as well as your mother's, you will find yourself an extremely wealthy young woman."

Helena had been listening listlessly to the lawyer's recitation, but at this, her head snapped back up. "I want nothing to do with anything that was my father's."

The lawyer ran a sympathetic glance over her thin form. "Though you did not hold him in affection, that does not alter the fact that you are still his legal heir. In addition to cash reserves, there is--"

"No!" Helena interrupted with such vehemence the lawyer fell silent. "I want nothing that belonged to him. Not one handful of earth from any property he owned. Not a penny of his wealth. I'd rather live in the streets."

The lawyer smiled. "There's no chance of your having to do that. However, you must consider that part of your father's estate consists of the land and capital that was your mother's dowry. The rest of his assets you could sell, perhaps, and invest the proceeds."

"Whatever was Mama's I will keep," Helena replied. "But nothing of my father's. Nothing. Do you understand?"

Though he gave her a dubious look, the lawyer nodded. "As you wish. But what of Lambarth Castle? It was your home and your mother's. If you do not wish to live in it, remote as the property is, I expect a buyer can be found."

"I should like the books from the library shipped to me. As for the castle itself," Helena said, turning the full force of her dark-eyed gaze on the lawyer, "I wish it to be torn down, stone by stone and beam by beam, and the rubble cast into the sea."

The lawyer's face blanched and he swallowed hard. "I...I see. And the servants?"

"By the time Papa died, only Holmes and his wife remained." Helena recalled with loathing how the two had delighted in enforcing her father's cruelty. "I suppose I cannot negate any bequests made to them in my father's will? Then they may have whatever Papa left them and not a penny more. I am a wealthy woman now, you said?"

"Extremely wealthy."

"And I may spend this wealth as I choose?"

"Your mother named me as trustee to advise you, but otherwise you may spend as you will."

"Then I should like to do one more thing at Lambarth Castle. Erect a marble monument in the burial grounds."

"To mark the grave of your father, I expect?" Helena gave a harsh laugh. "Certainly not. The crows are welcome to him. No, the marker is for an old woman, Sally--I don't know her last name. She was a healer, and friend," Helena concluded, her voice breaking.

The lawyer's face softened. "I know this must have been a terrible shock to you, leaving the only place you've ever known and traveling so far, only to find the one you were seeking forever lost to you. We've spoken of financial matters, but nothing specifically of what you will do today, tomorrow and in the coming weeks. Will you allow me to make some suggestions?"
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Customer Reviews

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Sort by: Showing all of 4 Customer Reviews
  • Posted December 10, 2012

    Wonderful sense of humor interspersed throughout.

    Wonderful sense of humor interspersed throughout.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted December 9, 2008

    more from this reviewer

    An exciting regency

    When his wife ran off with her lover, Lord Lambarth punished their daughter Helena keeping her a virtual prisoner at their castle for the past decade. Nine years ago she escaped, but the villagers simply returned the wee girl whose mind they assumed went over the edge when her mom vanished to her irate father. Only the recently deceased medicine hermit ¿Mad Sally¿ enabled Helena to survive her captivity. Now her dad is dead but instead of mourning her sire¿s demise, Helena rejoices as she is finally free and plans to find her mom.--------------- She goes to London though she has no idea how to behave amidst the Ton. Her mom¿s cousin Lady Lillian Darnell takes in Helena, who learns her mom died, but left behind loving letters for her. Helena meets Lillian¿s step son, Napoleonic war hero Adam and falls in love with him. However, he needs a wealthy spouse to fix the mess his late father left the family in, which means this wildcat living with Lillian is out of the question so why does his heart tell him to marry for love not money.----------------- This exciting regency focuses on abuse amidst the aristocracy in which everyone ignores the obvious signs so as to not have to deal with an unpleasant situation. (Sounds familiar?). Thus the story line is driven by Helena who struggles with adjusting to ¿normalcy¿ that includes cruelty after being a prisoner for so long. Though the ending is too inside the sub-genre¿s boundaries, readers will empathize with THE UNTAMED HEIRESS as she tries to join a society that blames her for the travesties of her parents.--------------- Harriet Klausner

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 27, 2013

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  • Anonymous

    Posted February 9, 2011

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