For the rest of the stops on the tour, check out Tasty Book Tours.
The Book
To Do:
Swim naked in the moonlight
Play in a high stakes card game
Ride an elephant
Be painted sans clothing.
Take a lover…
Lucy Merryweather has inherited a
fortune—and her great-aunt’s list of unfulfilled wishes. What better way to
honor her memory than by accomplishing as many of them as possible? And with
Lucy’s family an ocean away in New York, nothing stands in her way—if one
ignores the private investigator hired to spy on her.
Yet Cameron Effington is
infuriatingly difficult to ignore…
As a reporter, Cameron is always
looking for a good story. An American heiress running rampant between Millworth
Manor and Mayfair is the perfect subject. Not to mention captivating. And
extremely kissable. And if Lucy believes he’s a detective? Well, the truth
should never get in the way of a good story—or hinder delicious, impetuous
passion…
The Daring Exploits of a Runaway Heiress is available now!
Excerpt
When the family had finished dinner, his
mother drew a deep breath. “Cameron, your father has something he wishes to
discuss with you.”
Father’s brow furrowed. “I had planned to
have that discussion privately.”
“Absolutely not.” Mother shook her head.
“I do not intend to take sides, but I will not be left out of this.”
“Nor will I,” Grandmother said in a
deceptively pleasant tone. Obviously she too knew what this was about.
“Very well.” Father’s tone was sharp.
“The rest of you may leave.”
“I believe I prefer to stay,” Spencer
said mildly.
Thad glanced at Grace and Simon and
nodded. “As do we.”
“As you wish.” Father paused, then his
hard gaze met his youngest son’s. Unease clenched Cam’s stomach. “I have not been
happy at this rift between us. So, a few days ago, in the spirit of harmony or
even perhaps compromise, I read an edition of the Daily Messenger for the first time.”
“For the first time?” Cam said slowly.
“Good Lord, Father!” Grace stared. “He’s
been writing for the paper for over a year and you haven’t read it until now?”
“No,” Father snapped, and glared at his
daughter. “I have not.”
“Don’t you think you should have?” Simon
asked.
“The rest of us have,” Thad added.
Cam stared at his father, disappointment
and something that might well have been hurt rising within him. “You haven’t
read anything I’ve written?”
“I have.” Mother raised her chin. “I have
read every single issue since Cam began his work there.”
“And I have read most of them as well,”
Grandmother said.
“As have I.” Spencer gestured at his
siblings. “We all have.”
“You needn’t look at me like that, any of
you.” Father glared. “I said I haven’t read the Daily Messenger. In point of fact, I have read every word
Cameron has written.” Father slanted Mother an annoyed look. She refused to
meet his gaze. “Your mother has clipped every story, every article for me in
what I now see as a most devious attempt to keep me in a state of innocent
ignorance. However, three days ago I read the Messenger in its entirety and I now understand why she
went to such great efforts to prevent that.” Father’s eyes narrowed. “I have
never before read something as filled with slander and gossip and salacious
skewing of facts and events. Something so scandalous and so . . . so liberal. It’s appalling and not worth the paper
it’s written on.”
“I don’t think it’s any worse than any
other paper, Father,”
Spencer said.
“The Cadwallenders are an honorable
family and I do not understand how they can publish this sort of rubbish.”
“Admittedly there is a great deal of
emphasis on scandal and gossip and sensationalism, but unfortunately, Father”— Thad
shrugged—“that is what sells papers. It’s what people want to read.”
“It’s not what I want to read,” Father
said firmly. “It’s not what respectable members of society want to read.”
“Then perhaps you would do well not to
read it again,” Cam said in as calm a manner as he could muster.
“Cam’s work is very good, Father.” Thad
offered Cam a smile of support. “He is an excellent writer.”
“I know that,” Father snapped. “But he
should put that talent to a better use.”
“What would that be, Father?” Cam’s voice
hardened. “Should I occupy myself with the family’s business interests alongside
Simon and Thad and write reports on investment strategies and import regulations?
Should I work with Spencer and write about the newest agricultural methods for
increasing profitability of the estates?”
“Don’t be absurd.” Father scoffed. “You
know as well as I you aren’t suited for any of that. You could write books. That’s
respectable enough.”
Cam’s jaw tightened. “One doesn’t just
sit down and write a book. It’s not that easy.”
“Balderdash.” Father waved off the
comment. “Your grandmother did it.”
“Thank you, dear,” the dowager said in a
wry tone.
“I don’t have anything to write about.”
Cam drew a deep calming breath. “I have led a life of privilege and wealth. I
have been well educated and have been fortunate enough to have had the means to
travel. All in the comfort we are accustomed to. I think one should know the
world in its fullness, the good and the bad, before one attempts to create worlds
of one’s own. But I know nothing of the real world and the real people in it. I
know nothing of life.”
“I thought we were real people,” Grace
murmured.
“Stuff and nonsense.” Father huffed.
“Your grandmother knew nothing of life and yet she—”
“She,” Grandmother said sternly, “had a
mother who died when she was quite young and a father who gambled and drank
away the family fortune and honor. A father prepared to sell his daughters to
the highest bidders to finance his vices. She and her orphaned sisters lived in a
country house that was barely held together by little more than prayer and
hope. She
knows what it’s
like to have little to eat, no dowry, no prospects for improvement, and no
future. I should think that would give me some sense of life beyond the privileged
world we now inhabit.”
“My apologies, Mother.” Father grimaced.
“I had forgotten about all that.”
Cam stared in surprise. This was a story
he had never heard before, and judging from the looks on the faces of his
siblings, neither had they.
“It’s best forgotten, really.”
Grandmother shrugged. “It was a very long time ago and most of my life has been
quite lovely. But those early days taught me a great deal about life I never
would have known otherwise.” She turned toward Cam. “Every experience, every
new person you meet, every new situation you observe is all fuel, Cameron. Muses
are notoriously hungry, but if you feed them they will shower you with
inspiration.”
“Thank you, Grandmother.”
Father stared for a moment. “That’s the
most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Why, I wrote as a young man. Certainly, I
never had anything published—”
“They do say certain talents are known to
skip a generation, dear,” Mother said pleasantly.
“Regardless, I had no need for a muse.”
Father snorted.
“Which explains a great deal,”
Grandmother said under her breath.
“Thank you, Mother.”
“Don’t take that tone with me, Jonathon.
I am an old lady and I deserve respect if nothing else.” Grandmother pinned him
with a firm gaze. “I’m not saying anything you don’t already know. Although I
will say, your writing was better than your father’s poetry.” She shuddered.
“Sentiment is not the same thing as good, although he did try, the dear man. And
while you may have been a dreadful writer, you have been an excellent duke. The
family is as sound as the Bank of England itself, thanks to your leadership, in
terms of its finances and reputation. And I am extraordinarily proud of you.”
Father’s mouth dropped open and a stunned
look crossed his face. “I don’t think I have ever heard you say that before.”
“Don’t be absurd, Jonathon.” She picked
up her sherry. “I say it all the time.”
“Well, that’s that then,” Mother said
brightly, and started to rise, her sons getting to their feet as well. “I think
we should all retire to the—”
“Sit down all of you, I am not finished.”
Father glared and they all sat back down. “I have yet to make my point.”
“I thought he made any number of points,”
Grace said in an aside to Simon beside her.
“Exactly what I hoped to avoid.” Mother
sighed. “Very well then, go on.”
“I intend to,” Father said sharply, then
turned to Cam. “Regardless of the fact that you are writing under a different name,
this reporting of yours for that disreputable rag of a newspaper is scandalous
and embarrassing and puts this family in the poorest of lights.” Father’s tone
hardened. “You will resign your position at once.” Mother groaned. “Jonathon!”
My Review
As a fan of Victoria Alexander's, I couldn't resist the opportunity to read The Daring Exploits of a Runaway Heiress. Plus, when I reviewed The Shocking Secret of a Guest at the Wedding last year, I quite enjoyed the book. It also introduced Lucy, the titular heiress. She made a pleasant impression in that book, and it's fair to say that impression stuck through this one.
Lucy's presented as a delightful, rather sheltered, certain-she's-always-right type character. She has some prejudices - that men are all sexist, for example - that I cannot say are without some support given her experiences. Her childhood friend and former fiance - Jackson begins the book by suggesting some limits on what she should be permitted to do as she works her way through an inherited list of regrets. It's still frustrating at times, as a reader, to see her operating in such a self-righteous fog, but I was mostly willing to overlook it because of the entertainment factor (and because sadly, in this book, men do live down to her expectations).
And that's what this book is strongest on. Taken as a lighthearted adventure, I think Daring Exploits is pretty darn successful. Lucy's a very agreeable sort of woman, and none of her behaviour is too scandalous or, even, really all that daring. Except for Lucy, of course, who has always been the perfect daughter/lady/young woman.
Bottom line:
The Daring Exploits of a Runaway Heiress is a fun, lighthearted historical romance that I think fans of the genre desiring a quick and entertaining read will enjoy. This is a rather tame book, in all, but still a solid read!
4 stars
For fans of historical romance, low conflict romances, very charming heroes
About Victoria Alexander
New York Times bestselling author Victoria Alexander was an award-winning television reporter until she discovered fiction was much more fun than real life. She turned to writing full time and has never looked back. Victoria grew up traveling the country as an Air Force brat and is now settled in a very old house in Omaha, Nebraska, with her husband, two allegedly grown children and two bearded collies. She firmly believes housework is a four-letter word, there are no calories in anything eaten standing up, procrastination is an art form, and it's never too soon to panic.
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