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The Unromantic Lady — Penelope Stratton
SHE BELIEVED LOVE WAS FOOLISH - UNTIL IT TAUGHT HER OTHERWISE!
Diantha Halstow liked to declare that love was nothing but a mere illusion to trap fools. Rexford Lytham, Earl of Chartridge, couldn't agree more. He was, Diantha thought, a most sensible man. And theirs was a most sensible marriage: her money for his title. What more could two cynics want?
There was, however, one aspect of their union that did not answer to reason and good sense: the marriage bed. Here, passion ruled most insistently, wild and unpredictable, like the tide of new emotion that threatened to engulf Diantha entirely. And now she despaired at having become that most ridiculous of creatures: a woman in love with her own husband!
Diantha Halstow liked to declare that love was nothing but a mere illusion to trap fools. Rexford Lytham, Earl of Chartridge, couldn't agree more. He was, Diantha thought, a most sensible man. And theirs was a most sensible marriage: her money for his title. What more could two cynics want?
There was, however, one aspect of their union that did not answer to reason and good sense: the marriage bed. Here, passion ruled most insistently, wild and unpredictable, like the tide of new emotion that threatened to engulf Diantha entirely. And now she despaired at having become that most ridiculous of creatures: a woman in love with her own husband!
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