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In two classic tales of Regency-era romance from New York Times bestselling author Mary Balogh, the vagaries of love have a way of challenging the most convenient arrangements.
THE TEMPORARY WIFE
Miss Charity Duncan has no illusions about Lord Anthony Earheart’s proposal. The arrogant aristocrat has made it painfully clear what he wants: a wife who will enrage the father he despises and then disappear from his life. In exchange, Charity’s family will receive the money they desperately need. But after Charity agrees to this mockery of matrimony, she soon discovers a startling fact: She has fallen for Anthony, and breaking their marriage vows may also break her heart.
A PROMISE OF SPRING
Grace Howard has every reason to be devoted to Sir Peregrine Lampman. After all, the gallant gentleman rescued her from poverty by making her his bride. Even more nobly, he did not withdraw his affection after she confessed to a youthful folly that had compromised her virtue. But Grace did not tell the whole truth about the handsome lord who betrayed her—and now the one thing she’s kept from Perry threatens to destroy her last chance at true love.
- Sales Rank: #415498 in Books
- Brand: Dell
- Published on: 2012-02-28
- Released on: 2012-02-28
- Original language: English
- Number of items: 1
- Dimensions: 6.87" h x 1.15" w x 4.19" l, .54 pounds
- Binding: Mass Market Paperback
- 528 pages
- Great product!
About the Author
Mary Balogh is the New York Times bestselling author of numerous books, including The Secret Mistress, the acclaimed Slightly and Simply novels, and the five titles in her Huxtable series: First Comes Marriage, Then Comes Seduction, At Last Comes Love, Seducing an Angel, and A Secret Affair. A former teacher, she grew up in Wales and now lives in Canada.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
1
It being not quite the thing to advertise in the London papers for a wife, Anthony Earheart, Marquess of Staunton, eldest son and heir of the Duke of Withingsby, advertised instead for a governess.
He advertised in his own name, with the omission of his title and connections, to the decided amusement of his friends and acquaintances, who rose to the occasion with marvelous wit.
“How many children do you have, Staunton?” Harold Price asked him at White’s the morning of the advertisement’s first appearance. “Would it not be more appropriate to hire a schoolteacher? One capable of managing a full schoolroom?”
“What you should do, Staunton,” Cuthbert Pyne added, “is hire a full staff. For a whole school, I mean. One would not wish to jeopardize the education of the budding scholars by crowding too many of them into one classroom.”
“Are all their mamas to come and fetch them each afternoon, Tony?” Lord Rowling asked before inhaling the pinch of snuff he had placed on the back of one hand. “Do you have a salon large enough to hold them all while they wait? And will they wait amicably in company with one another?”
“Are you sure you wish to educate them all, Staunton?” Colonel Forsythe asked. “Do you have enough estates needing stewards and managers, old boy? Does England have enough estates?”
“You have forgotten Wales, Forsythe,” Mr. Pyne said. “And Scotland.”
“But it is hardly fair to everyone else’s by-blows if all the positions are filled by Staunton’s,” the colonel said, speaking with an exaggerated whine of complaint.
“I believe Tony is not in search of a governess at all,” Sir Bernard Shields said. “He is in search of a new mistress. I hear you dismissed the delectable Anna just last week, Tony--with rubies. You have decided to look elsewhere for her replacement than the green rooms of London? You have decided to search for someone who can provide conversation as a diversion while you are, ah, at work?”
“Or someone who can offer instruction,” Lord Rowling said. “It is said, you know, that one is never too knowledgeable to stop learning. And who better to learn from than a governess? And in a schoolroom with all its desks and tabletops on which to practice one’s lessons. The mind boggles.”
“I daresay,” the very young and very earnest Lord Callaghan said, “Staunton is hiring a governess for one or more of his nieces and we are slandering him by imagining otherwise.”
The Marquess of Staunton did not participate in the conversation beyond the occasional lifting of an eyebrow or pursing of the lips. He looked on as if he were nothing more than a mildly interested observer. He had no children as far as he knew. He had no estates--yet. He had tired of Anna after only six weeks and was in no hurry to employ a replacement. Mistresses, he was finding, were less and less able to satisfy his jaded appetites. He knew all their tricks and skills and was bored by them--Rowling was wrong about there being more to learn. He had no dealings with any of his nieces--or nephews either, for that matter.
No, he was not in search of either a governess or a mistress. He was choosing himself a wife, as he made clear to Lord Rowling when the two of them were strolling homeward later.
“Is that not usually done at Almack’s or in someone’s ballroom or drawing room?” Lord Rowling asked, chuckling as if he believed the whole matter was a joke devised for his amusement. “And without the necessity of an advertisement, Tony? You are Staunton, after all, and will be Withingsby one day. You are as rich as Croesus and have the looks to turn any female head even if you were a pauper. Yet you have advertised for a wife in the guise of a governess? What am I missing, pray?” He twirled his cane and touched the brim of his hat to a lady whom they were passing.
“I cannot find what I am looking for at Almack’s,” the marquess said, no answering amusement in his face. He had the grace to continue when his friend merely looked at him with raised eyebrows. “She must be a gentlewoman--I’ll not go lower than that, you see. She must also be impoverished, plain, demure, very ordinary, perhaps even prim. She must have all the personality of a--a quiet mouse.”
“Dear me,” Lord Rowling said rather faintly. “A quiet mouse, Tony? You? Do you feel such need to dominate the woman you will take to wife?”
“The Duke of Withingsby has summoned me home,” the marquess said. “He claims to be ailing. He reminds me that Lady Marie Lucas, daughter of the Earl of Tillden, is now seventeen years old--old enough, in fact, for the match arranged for us by our families at her birth to be elevated to a formal betrothal. He informs me that the eight years of my absence from home have given me sufficient time in which to sow my wild oats.”
Lord Rowling grimaced. “Your father is not displaying a great deal of wisdom,” he said. “You have amassed a sizable fortune during those eight years, Tony.” But he grinned suddenly. “As well as acquiring a well--deserved reputation as one of London’s most prolific rakes. You plan to marry your quiet mouse merely in order to embarrass his grace, then?”
“Precisely,” the marquess said without hesitation. “I did consider merely ignoring the summons, Perry, or answering it but refusing to wed the child who has been carefully chosen and groomed as the next Duchess of Withingsby. But this idea of mine will be infinitely better. If his grace is not already ailing in all truth, he soon will be. If he has not yet got the point of the past eight years, he soon will. Yes, I shall choose my wife very carefully indeed. I daresay there will be a number of applicants.”
Lord Rowling looked aghast, perhaps only now understanding that his friend was in deadly earnest. “But, Tony,” he said, “you cannot marry the dullest creature you can find merely to annoy your father.”
“Why not?” Lord Staunton asked.
“Why not?” His friend made circular motions in the air with his cane. “Marriage is a life sentence, old chap. You will be stuck with the woman for the rest of your life. You would find the situation intolerable.”
“I do not intend to spend the rest of my life with her,” the marquess said. “Once she has served her purpose she will be pensioned off--a governess could hardly ask for a better fate, could she?”
“And she might live to the age of ninety,” Lord Row-ling pointed out. “Tony, you will want heirs. If you get them on her, she will wish--and quite reasonably so--to be a mother to them. She will wish to live in your home while they grow up.”
“I have an heir,” the marquess said. “My brother William, Perry. And he has sons--or so Marianne informs me. One can only hope that they are sturdy.”
“But a man craves heirs of his own body,” Lord Rowling said.
“Does he, by Jove?” The Marquess of Staunton looked surprised. “This man certainly does not, Perry. Shall we change the subject? This particular one grows tedious. Do you go to Tattersall’s tomorrow? I have my eye on a promising-looking pair of grays.”
Lord Rowling would have liked to continue the original conversation until he had talked some sense into his friend, but he was soon conversing about horses. After all, he had known the Marquess of Staunton long enough to understand that he had a will of iron, that he said and did exactly what he wished to say and do, without reference to other people’s preferences or to society’s dictates. If he had decided to choose a wife in such an unconventional manner and for such a cynical, cold-blooded reason, then choose her he would, and marry her too.
The Marquess of Staunton, meanwhile, although he talked with enthusiasm about horses and then the races, inwardly contemplated with some satisfaction his return to Enfield Park in Wiltshire and the effect of that return on the Duke of Withingsby. It would be the final thumbing of the nose to the man who had begotten him and made his life miserable for the twenty years following his birth. For eight years, ever since he had left home after that final dreadful scene, he had lived independently of his father, refusing any financial support. He had made his own fortune, at first by gambling, then by reckless investments, and finally by more prudent investments and business ventures.
His father had clearly not got the point. But he would. He would understand that his eldest son was once and for all beyond his power and influence. Oh yes, marrying imprudently--and that would be an understatement for the marriage of the Duke of Withingsby’s heir to an impoverished gentlewoman who had earned her living as a governess--would be the best possible thing he could do. He longed to see his father’s face when he took his bride to Enfield.
And so he waited for replies to his advertisement, replies that began coming the very day after its first appearance in the London papers and kept coming for several days after that in even larger numbers than he had expected. He rejected several applicants, sight unseen--all those below the age of twenty or above the age of thirty, those with particularly impressive recommendations, and one young lady who so wished to impress him with her knowledge of Latin that her letter was written in it.
He interviewed five candidates before discovering his quiet mouse in the sixth. Miss Charity Duncan had been shown into a downstairs salon and had chosen to stand in the part of the room that was not bathed in sunlight. For one moment after he had opened the door and stepped inside the room, he thought she must have changed her mind and fled. But then he saw her, and it struck him that even her decision to stand just there was significant. In addition, she was dressed from head to toe in drab brown and looked totally self--effacing and quietly disciplined. She was the quintessential governess--the sort of employee even the most jealous of wives would not object to having in the same house with her husband.
“Miss Duncan?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.” Her voice was quiet and low-pitched. She curtsied to him without once raising her eyes from the carpet before her feet. She was on the low side of medium height, very slender, perhaps even thin, though her cloak made it impossible to know for sure. Her face looked pale and ordinary in the shadows. The brown of her hair blended so totally with the brown of her bonnet that it was difficult to know where the one ended and the other began. Her garments were decent and drab. He was given the impression that they were not quite shabby but very soon would be. They were genteel-shabby.
She was perfect. His father would be incensed.
“Please be seated,” he said, indicating a chair close to where she stood.
“Yes, sir,” she said and sat down, as he expected, with a straight spine that did not touch the back of her chair. She folded her gloved hands in her lap and directed her gaze modestly at her knees.
She was the picture of prim gentility. She was quite perfect! He decided there and then that she would do, that his search was at an end. He was looking at his future wife.
CHARITY DUNCAN SAT close to the window in order to make the best of the last of the daylight. It would not do to light the candle one moment before it became absolutely necessary to do so. Candles were expensive. She was mending an underarm seam of one of her brother’s shirts and noting with an inward sigh that the cotton fabric had worn thin. The seam would hold for a while, but there would be a hole more difficult to mend sooner than that.
Her task was taking longer than it ought. Her eyes--and her mind--kept straying to the newspaper that was open on the table. Buying a paper each day was her one extravagance, though it could not exactly be called that. She knew that Philip liked to read it by candlelight after he got home from work, but in the main the purchase was for her own sake. She must find employment very soon. For almost a month she had been looking and applying and--all too rarely--attending interviews. She had even applied for a few situations more menial than a governess’s or a companion’s position.
No one wanted her. She was either too young or too old, too plain or too pretty, too high-born or too well-educated, or . . . Or prospective employers became too pointed in their questions.
But she would not give in and abandon the search. Her family--one sister three years younger than herself at home and three children considerably younger than that--was poor. Worse than poor. They were deeply in debt and had not even known it until the death of their father a little over a year ago. And so instead of being able to live a gentleman’s life, Philip was compelled to work just to support his family. And she had insisted on working too, though there was precious little money a woman could earn that was sufficient to share with others or to pay off debts.
If only there were some way of making a huge fortune quickly. She had even considered some spectacular robbery--though not seriously, of course. She ought not to complain, she thought, her task at the shirt finished at last. At least they were not quite destitute. Not quite, but close enough. And there seemed to be no real light at the end of the proverbial tunnel.
But Philip was home, and she rose to smile her greeting, to kiss his cheek, to serve his supper, to ask about his day--and to draw his attention to the one advertisement in today’s paper that looked like a possibility.
“It does not say how many children there are or what ages or genders they are,” she said with a frown when they had progressed to that topic. “It does not say whether they live here in London or in the Outer Hebrides or at the tip of Cornwall. But it does say that there is a position available.”
“You do not have to take employment at all, Charity,” Philip Duncan said. It was his constant theme. Philip believed in taking full responsibility for his womenfolk.
“Oh, yes, I do,” she said firmly. “It is the only suitable position offered in today’s paper, Phil. And there was nothing at all at the agency yesterday or this morning. I must try for it at least.”
Most helpful customer reviews
41 of 42 people found the following review helpful.
Two Romance Classics Re-visited
By fictiongal
The Temporary Wife and A Promise of Spring are two unconnected older Mary Balogh titles repackaged together. Balogh has been writing for so long that her older books are new again. Both are "marriage of convenience" stories. The tried and true regency conventions are in full force. Impoverished brides and stalwart (Perry Lampton) and tortured (Anthony Earheart) heroes make sure honor is satisfied. Both books were "good reads" and I especially enjoyed finding that A Promise of Spring was part of the WEB SERIES of books with characters crossing over from those three connected books to be in the Grace and Perry tale.
Balogh's books stand out from other historical romances because she delves into the character of her characters. Emotions and motivation are fleshed out through plots laden with rich secondary characters. Love follows the standard rocky road but Balogh always lets you see all the scenic views along the path. Grace and Perry take over 2 years to get from married to Happily Ever After. Balogh books also differ from the pack in how she uses the sex scenes to advance the plot. Characters are allowed to experience unsatisfactory sexual encounters with their true loves if it mirrors the place they are in the storyline. Balogh also stays true to the nature of her character outlines. Men do not suddenly make rash challenges if they are really people who think things through (Perry)and they don't suddenly become deep thinkers if they are known for rash decisions (Anthony). If you are a regency fan, you can't pass up a Mary Balogh story.
22 of 23 people found the following review helpful.
One of Balogh's best with bonus
By CJ
The Temporary Wife is my favourite Balogh ever (5+ stars). It was one of the best of her old Signet Regencies and brilliant news for Balogh fans that it's now been republished. Mary Balogh is my next favourite Regency author after Georgette Heyer. Whilst I love all her books I find her earliest stories (many of which have been out of print) amongst her best and this is one of my favourite ones.
The Marquess of Staunton advertises for a governess intending, in fact, to find himself an unsuitable wife. He wants the plainest, dullest and mousiest candidate to take home to his meet his estranged family with the intention of flaunting her in front of, and annoying, his autocratic father. Charity Duncan is desperate for work and answers his advertisement for the position of governess in order to help provide for a large but destitute family of several younger brothers and sisters. She is persuaded by the cold and disagreeable Marquess into a temporary marriage in return for a comfortable settlement for the rest of her life. Once she arrives at the ancestral home she can't help but become interested and involved and gradually unravels the reasons behind the long estrangement between the Marquess and his father. In the process she and the Marquess find out much more about each other than was ever the intention and inevitably and reluctantly they fall in love. Its a lovely story, very subtle and very moving. The character development, as in most Mary Balogh books, is brilliantly and believably done.
4 stars. A Promise of Spring is slightly linked to the "Web" books - many of the characters from those books have minor appearances in this one. It's another classic Balogh - an original story, unpredictable and ultimately moving, where she takes two very unlikely characters who turn out to be perfect for each other. There's a big age difference between Grace and Perry (she's older - unusually). Sir Peregrine Lapman's best friend (Grace's brother) dies in a tragic accident. Grace is seemingly left destitute without him so Perry proposes and this is the story of the difficult beginnings of their marriage. A sweet and gentle tale and extremely poignant and moving.
PS It seems a bit unjust to The Temporary Wife that this joint publication gets marked down so much by people who don't like A Promise of Spring (IMO) after all the total price for the whole book is not much more than one of her single novels on it's own. Look at it this way - you get the 5 star plus Temporary Wife and Promise of Spring is an added extra - whether you like it or not I would still say the purchase price was worth it just for Temporary Wife.
9 of 9 people found the following review helpful.
Have your hankies handy.
By OLT
(3.5 stars.) There are 2 Balogh regencies here and that caused me no end of trouble in trying to come up with a star rating for the whole book. THE TEMPORARY WIFE (from 1997) is almost a 5-star Balogh but A PROMISE OF SPRING (from 1990) was just too tedious and exasperating for me and, written by any other author, would deserve a 2-star rating.
Both are presented in the same volume because, I assume, they are both about marriages of convenience. No characters overlap from one to the other as in her previous 2-for-1 releases. (However, be on the lookout for characters in A PROMISE OF SPRING that show up in Balogh's WEB series.)
THE TEMPORARY WIFE is lovely and Kleenex-worthy. Lord Anthony Earheart has been estranged from his family for 8 years and wishes to annoy his tyrannical father by marrying beneath himself, so he advertises for a governess, intending to marry the first shabby genteel applicant of marriageable age who will agree to such a marriage. What's in it for the woman? A house of her own, with servants to take care of it, and several thousand pounds annual income.
Charity Duncan answers the ad because her family of siblings (parents deceased) is in dire need of funds. She's so desperate that she accepts the marriage proposal. So Anthony marries Charity and takes her to visit his dysfunctional family . (Did I mention that his father is a duke and that he is the heir? Well, he forgot to mention that to Charity at first also.) And we're off to a great read. Watch Charity work her magic not just on Anthony but on the whole family. A lovely story.
Then comes A PROMISE OF SPRING. You may need Kleenex for this one also but I was too exasperated by the H and h to feel the pathos attempts by Balogh. Heroine Grace Howard is 35 and living with her brother Paul, the village rector. He dies at the beginning of the story and Grace is seemingly alone in the world. Hero Sir Peregrine Lampman, 10 years her junior, had been a good friend of Paul's and proposes marriage to Grace to rescue her from certain poverty and loneliness. It's unclear why he has to do this. It seems like finding her a good job as housekeeper or lady's companion should have been enough, especially since neither one was attracted romantically to the other.
And there's my biggest problem with this whole story. I didn't feel the attraction at any moment in the story, not even at the end when they are professing their love. The romance is pretty blah and the heroine Grace is even blah-er. Yes, she has a tragic secret in her past but she was such a washed-out personality that I couldn't much like her, especially since every 2 seconds or so she agonizes over the 10-year age difference between herself and Perry. That got pretty old pretty fast.
And Perry? He's a nice guy, but perhaps too nice and too conflict-avoiding. I couldn't quite make out his personality and also found him to laugh and smile overmuch and never say what he was thinking or feeling. Grace and Perry never really talk to each other about much except the growing of flowers. It became unbearably frustrating for me. All their issues could have been resolved in half the time with some good heart-to-hearts.
Well, this is just my opinion of the second story. I'm sure there will be many other readers who like it very much. On the upside for me, it was worth buying the whole book just to read THE TEMPORARY WIFE.
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