โ Scribed by Quinn, Julia
No coin nor oath required. For personal study only.
2 March 1810 . . .
Today, I fell in love.
At the age of ten, Miranda Cheever showed no signs of Great Beauty. And even at ten, Miranda learned to accept the expectations society held for herโuntil the afternoon when Nigel Bevelstoke, the handsome and dashing Viscount Turner, solemnly kissed her hand and promised her that one day she would grow into herself, that one day she would be as beautiful as she already was smart. And even at ten, Miranda knew she would love him forever.
But the years that followed were as cruel to Turner as they were kind to Miranda. She is as intriguing as the viscount boldly predicted on that memorable dayโwhile he is a lonely, bitter man, crushed by a devastating loss. But Miranda has never forgotten the truth she set down on paper all those years earlierโand she will not allow the love that is her destiny to slip lightly through her fingers . . .
Quinn's first title since 1999 not to feature the Bridgerton clan (On the Way to the Wedding), this Regency concerns Miranda Cheever, who fell in love with the aristocratic Nigel Bevelstoke, Viscount Turner, when she was 10 and he 19. Now 20, and still in love, Miranda's designs are thwarted by the indiscretions of Nigel's late wifeโheartbroken, Nigel isn't willing to risk another shot at love, even if it means hurting his close friend Miranda. Quinn's pitch-perfect humor remains intact, but her latest relies too much on romance conventions, including Miranda's scholarly but benignly neglectful father; an even more overused device involves Turner's hot-and-cold feelings toward Miranda, which reduce the heroine to tears more than once. However, the two make a lovable couple, and Miranda in particular shines, as do Turner's two siblings in strong secondary roles. Though a bit stale, this well-written, often funny and occasionally tender romance has much to enjoy. (July)
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"'reminiscent of Bridget Jones' Time Magazine"
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1 March 1811. Today I fell in love. At the age of ten, Miss MirandaCheever showed no signs of ever becoming a Great Beauty. Her hair was lamentably brown, her eyes the same muddy colour, and her legs, whichwere uncommonly long, refused to learn anything which might remotely becalled grace. Only, in
*2 March 1810 . . . Today, I fell in love.* At the age of ten, Miranda Cheever showed no signs of Great Beauty. And even at ten, Miranda learned to accept the expectations society held for herะฒะโuntil the afternoon when Nigel Bevelstoke, the handsome and dashing Viscount Turner, solemnly kissed h