I thee wed

Amanda Quick

Book - 1999

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FICTION/Quick, Amanda
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Subjects
Genres
Romance fiction
Published
New York : Bantam Books 1999.
Language
English
Main Author
Amanda Quick (-)
Physical Description
341 p.
ISBN
9780553574104
9780553100846
Contents unavailable.
Review by Booklist Review

Emma Greyson is a bright, sharp-tongued lady's companion, who is currently working her third position in six months. Lord Edison Stokes makes her acquaintance when she ducks into the wardrobe he is already hiding in. By mutual pact, they agree to tell no one of the adventure--Emma because she doesn't want to get sacked again, and Edison because he doesn't want his peers to know he was searching a lady's bedchamber. Edison offers Emma a deal--she will work for him in secret to discover which lady may have killed a shopkeeper in London and stolen a rare and valuable book of ancient mysticism. Emma agrees to the risky scheme because she is in dire financial straits. As they investigate, a man from Emma's past appears, and when he ends up murdered, Edison claims she was with him, which leads to yet another form of complication: matrimony. And then the adventure begins in earnest. Quick, aka Jayne Ann Krentz and Jayne Castle, offers an unusual twist on her standard Regencies in this sensual, stylish, and suspenseful tale, maintaining her spot as a premier writer in any genre, under any name. --Melanie Duncan

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Strong-willed, and with a redhead's combustible temper, paid companion Emma Greyson finds herself embroiled in a dangerous adventure with the dashing Edison Stokes. A wealthy member of Regency England's "Polite World," Stokes follows the clue in a dying man's last words to arrive at Ware Castle, where he suspects a dark plot is underway. At the castle he encounters Emma, who stands out among the era's decadent and depraved society as a woman of sharp intelligence. From their awkward introduction‘in a wardrobe where Emma has gone to seek refuge from the unwelcome attentions of a lecher and Edison is searching for clues‘the two develop an alliance often made precarious by their smoldering attraction. When Emma's life is threatened by a thief at large among Ware Castle's guests, Edison's courage and his loyalty to Emma are put to the test. A veteran in the army of steamy historical amour, Quick (With This Ring; other novels as Jayne Ann Krentz) tosses off her 15th such romance with ease. Attractive protagonists, loose bodices, thwarted love and odds overcome prove themselves once again the ingredients for success in this genre. (Apr.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review

Seeking to avoid recognition by the lecherous cad who caused her to lose her previous position, lady's companion Emma Greyson takes refuge in a bedroom wardrobe and ends up in the arms of a man far more dangerous to her reputation than the one she had been eluding. An intriguing hero with a mission, an outspoken heroine with a 20th-century attitude and too much intuition for her own good, a murderous villain, and a missing book of ancient elixirs combine to form a lively, mystery-laced adventure. Firmly cast in the mold of Quick's recent romances (With This Ring, LJ 8/97), this should please her many fans. Quick (a.k.a. Jayne Ann Krentz) is a popular, dependable writer of humorous, sexy historicals that typically feature her signature anachronistic heroines, heroes worthy of them, and plots that, while often predictable, are as appealing and addictive as popcorn and keep readers engrossed to the end. She lives in the Seattle area. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 1/99.] (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by School Library Journal Review

YA-A glimpse of Regency English society, cloaked in an amusing romp. Edison, a young financier, hires Emma, a ladies' companion, to help him locate a stolen ancient manuscript. Then, in order to save her from a false accusation of murder, he announces their engagement, and her days as companion are over. However, more murders occur and their lives are in danger as Emma helps Edison search for clues. Fast-paced action, witty dialogue, and entertaining characters keep this plot moving. Humorous situations occur as the lead characters can be stubborn and don't always want the same thing. A light, entertaining love story.-Claudia Moore, W. T. Woodson High School, Fairfax, VA (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

The mistress of fast-paced Regency scandal and folderol returns after With This Ring (1998), offering a sequel in title only. Emma Greyson, let go from her first job for her outspoken opinions, is nearly raped at Ralston Manor on her second job by seducer Chilton Crone, and is again let go of her position as a paid lady's companion. During her employment at Ralston, she'd disguised her red hair with a dark wig. Thus, when Crane sees her now, unwigged, at her new job as companion to Lady Mayfield at Ware Castle, where the brightest names in London society gather for a house party, she goes unrecognized. In evading Crane, though, she's forced to hide in a wardrobe in Lady Miranda's bedchamber. No sooner is Emma in the closet than a hand covers her mouth'foe Edison Stokes is also hidden there! Stokes, bastard son of a dead rakehell, is at Ware to find the lost Book of Secrets, a text full of occult recipes. (Readers hoping for a supernatural twist to a Regency outing will be disappointed: the Book of Secrets is largely a MacGuffin.) Since Emma and her younger sister Daphne are orphans, Emma must pay Daphne's upkeep at a school in Devon. She has also unwisely invested money from the sale of her parents' house. When Emma discovers Crane trying to rape the servant girl, she bops him over the skull with a bed-warmer, but this time she's saved from exposure by Edison; later, Crane is murdered. Even so, she falls under suspicion as the culprit until Edison suggests that he and Emma were in bed together during the killing. She's then hired by Edison, who needs her to test the book's magical elixirs, and more . . . . Circles and circles within Polite Circles lead readers over familiar ground.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

The Bastard was here at Ware Castle. Damn the man. Emma Greyson clenched one gloved hand into a fist on the balcony railing. Of all the thoroughly rotten luck. Then again, it was all of a piece, she thought. Her luck had been rotten for some time now, culminating in complete financial disaster two months ago. Nevertheless, discovering that she would have to spend the next week trying to avoid Chilton Crane was really too much. She drummed her fingers on the ancient stone. She should not have been so startled to see Crane arrive that afternoon. After all, the Polite World was a relatively small one. There was nothing odd about The Bastard being among the many guests who had been invited to the large house party. She could not afford to lose this post, Emma thought. Crane might not remember her, but the only sensible thing to do was to stay out of his path for the duration of the house party. With so many people about, it should be a simple matter to disappear into the woodwork, she assured herself. Few took any notice of paid companions. A slight whisper of movement in the darkness below the balcony jerked her out of her glum reverie. She frowned and peered more closely into the deep shadows cast by a high hedge. One of the shadows shifted. It moved out of the darkness and glided across a moonlit patch of lawn. She leaned forward and caught a glimpse of the figure who moved like a ghost through the silver light. Tall, lean, dark haired, dressed entirely in black clothing. She did not need the brief glint of moonlight on his austere, ascetic cheekbones to recognize the man below. Edison Stokes. By chance she had been returning from a walk yesterday afternoon when he arrived at the castle. She had seen him drive his gleaming phaeton into the courtyard. The sleek carriage had been drawn by perfectly matched, well-trained bays. The huge creatures had responded to Stokes's hands on the ribbons with calm precision. Their willing obedience indicated that their master relied on technique and skill rather than whips and savage bits for control. Later Emma had noticed that the other guests watched Stokes with sidelong glances whenever he was in the room. She knew their ferretlike interest meant that he was very likely both extremely wealthy and extremely powerful. Quite possibly extremely dangerous. All of which made him extremely fascinating in the minds of the bored and thoroughly jaded elite. The shadows shifted again. Emma leaned a little farther out over the balcony. She saw that Stokes had one leg over the sill of an open window. How very odd. He was, after all, a guest in the castle. There was no need for him to skulk about this way. There was only one reason why Stokes would choose such a clandestine approach. He was either returning from a tryst with the wife of one of the other guests or he was about to conduct one. She did not know why, but she had expected better of Stokes. Her employer, Lady Mayfield, had introduced them last night. When he had inclined his head very formally over her hand, her intuition had sparked briefly. This was not another Chilton Crane, she had told herself. Edison Stokes was more than just another debauched rake in a world that already teemed with an overabundance of the species. Obviously she had been wrong. And not for the first time lately. A burst of raucous laughter spilled from one of the open windows farther along the east wing of the castle. The men in the billiard room sounded quite drunk. Music poured forth from the ballroom. Down below her balcony, Edison Stokes vanished into a darkened chamber that was not his own. After a while Emma turned and walked slowly back into a dimly lit stone passage. She could safely retire to her bedchamber, she decided. Lady Mayfield would be in her altitudes by now. Letty was extremely fond of champagne. She would never notice that her paid companion had disappeared for the evening. The sound of muffled voices on the little-used back stairs brought Emma to an abrupt halt midway along the corridor. She paused and listened intently. Soft laughter echoed. A couple. The man sounded disgustingly cup-shot. "Your maid will be waiting up for you, I assume?" Chilton Crane mumbled with ill-concealed eagerness. Emma froze. So much for her hopes that her luck would improve. The glow of a candle appeared on the wall of the staircase. In another moment Crane and his companion would emerge into the hall where she stood. She was trapped. Even if she whirled and ran as fast as she could, she would not be able to make it all the way back down the corridor to the main staircase. "Don't be silly," Miranda, Lady Ames, murmured. "I dismissed the girl before I went downstairs this evening. I certainly did not want her in the way when I returned." "There was no need to get rid of her," Chilton said quickly. "I'm certain we could have found some use for the chit." "Mr. Crane, are you by any chance suggesting that my maid join us under the covers?" Miranda retorted archly. "Sir, I am shocked." "Variety is the spice of life, my dear. And I have always found that females who are dependent upon keeping a post in a household are extremely willing to do as they are told. Eager, in fact." "You will have to indulge your taste for the serving classes some other time. I have no intention of sharing you with my maid tonight." "Perhaps we could look a bit higher for someone to make up a threesome. I noticed that Lady Mayfield brought along a companion. What do you say we arrange to summon her to your bedchamber on a pretext of some sort--" "Lady Mayfield's companion ? Surely you don't mean Miss Greyson?" Miranda sounded genuinely appalled. "Never say that you have a mind to seduce that bland creature in spectacles and caps. And that dreadful red hair. Have you no taste at all in such matters?" "I have often found that drab clothing and spectacles can conceal a surprisingly lively spirit." Chilton paused. "Speaking of Lady Mayfield's companion--" "I'd rather not, if you don't mind." "There is something oddly familiar about her," Chilton said slowly. "I wonder if I have encountered her elsewhere." Panic uncoiled in Emma's stomach. She'd had reason to hope that Crane had not recognized her earlier when, trapped in the music room, she had been forced to walk right past him to escape. He had glanced only casually in her direction. She had told herself that men such as Crane, who enjoyed forcing themselves on their hosts' hapless maids, governesses, and paid ladies' companions, did not commit their victims' features to memory. Furthermore, her hair was now a different color. Fearful that a previous employer, who had dismissed her for insubordination, might have warned her acquaintances about that insolent, red-haired female, she had worn a dark wig during the short period of her employment at Ralston Manor. "Forget Lady Mayfield's companion," Miranda ordered. "She is a boring little thing. I assure you I can entertain you in a much more interesting fashion than she can." "Of course, my dear. Whatever you say." Chilton sounded vaguely disappointed. Emma edged back a step. She had to do something. She could not stand here like a cornered hare and wait for Miranda and Crane to emerge from the stairwell. She glanced over her shoulder. The only light in the darkened hall came from a single wall sconce halfway along the corridor. Heavily timbered doors sunk deep in the stone marked the entrances to the various bedchambers. She whirled, picked up her skirts, and hurried back along the stone corridor. She would have to hide in one of the rooms. The castle was very full, and each room on this floor had been assigned to a guest. But surely they would all be empty at this hour. The night was young. Ware's friends were still downstairs, enjoying the dancing and the flirting. She paused in front of the first door and turned the knob. Locked. Her heart sank. She rushed to the next door. It too refused to budge. Panic ate at her. She went to the third door, seized the knob, twisted. And breathed a ragged sigh of relief when it turned easily in her hand. She slipped quickly into the room and shut the door very quietly behind her. She surveyed her surroundings. The bright moonlight pouring through the window revealed the heavy curtains of a large, canopied bed. There were towels on the washstand. The dressing table was littered with elegant little bottles. A woman's lace-trimmed nightgown lay across the bed. She would wait here until Chilton and Miranda disappeared into one of the other bedchambers. Then she would make her way back to the rear stairs. She turned, put her ear to the door, and listened to the footsteps moving down the hall. They were coming closer. A dreadful premonition seized Emma. What if she had stumbled into Miranda's bedchamber? The footsteps paused in front of the door. "Here we are, Chilton." Miranda's voice was muffled by the heavy door. "Just let me get my key." Emma stepped back from the door as if it had turned red-hot. She had only seconds. Miranda believed her door to be locked. She was no doubt busily rummaging about in her reticule, hunting for the key. Emma searched the moonlit room with desperation. There was no space under the bed. She could see that traveling trunks had been stored there. That left only the massive wardrobe. She ran toward it. Her soft kid evening slippers made no noise on the carpet. Crane's drunken laughter echoed on the other side of the door. Emma heard the soft ting of metal on stone. "There now, see what you made me do?" Miranda said. "I dropped it." "Allow me," Chilton said. Emma yanked open the heavy wardrobe, pushed her way through a forest of frothy gowns, and climbed inside. She reached out and pulled the door closed behind her. She was instantly enfolded in utter darkness. A man's arm wrapped around her waist. She started to scream. A warm palm clamped around her mouth. She was pulled roughly against a strong, rock-hard chest and pinned there. Terror crashed through Emma. The problem of being recognized paled into insignificance compared to her new predicament. No wonder she had found the door of this bedchamber unlocked. Someone else had already sneaked into the room. "Silence, please, Miss Greyson," Edison Stokes whispered directly into her ear. "Or we shall both have a great deal of explaining to do." Excerpted from I Thee Wed by Amanda Quick All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.