Mostrando resultados por "M C Beaton" en Todas las categorías

When Henrietta Bascombe opens a confectionary shop in order to turn her pittance of an inheritance into a fortune, her friends are shocked to hear of such a well-bred lady going into trade. The earl of Carrisdown is both drawn to and repelled by her shop girl status. Undaunted, Henrietta proceeds to hang out the traditional confectioners' sign of a golden pineapple and soon finds a set of beautiful women in her employ, drawing the attention of earl of Carrisdown's younger brother and best friend.

Matilda, Duchess of Hadshire, is virtually a prisoner of her cruel husband, who romances his mistress right under the duchess' nose. Her only joy is dreaming of the handsome Earl of Torridon - for like her, he is trapped in a horrid marriage and longs to find true love and happiness. Though she secretly wishes for the death of her unkind husband, Matilda never could have imagined the guilt that plagues her when the illustrious duke is befittingly murdered by his own mistress!

Agatha has fallen head over heels in love - again. This time, she has her eye on the local gardener, George Marston, but so do other women in their little Cotswold village. Shamelessly determined, Agatha will do anything to get her man - including footing the bill for a charity ball just for the chance to dance with him. And then George doesn't even show up. Only partly deterred, Agatha goes looking for him, and finds his dead body in a compost heap. Murder is definitely afoot, but this killer chose no ordinary weapon: A poisonous snake delivered the fatal strike.

Morag Fleming, the Countess of Murr, had been bride to the most lecherous lord in Scotland - yet this ravishingly lovely girl had never been touched. Needless to say, she had never borne a child; yet as a young widow she came to London with a fine son in tow.

The upper class of the social circle regarded Sir Benjamin Wright with utmost honor and respect. Yet Lady Emma knew her husband was in fact a drunken jealous brute who delighted in humiliating her both in and out of the bedroom.

After a lifetime spent in public relations, one-woman dynamo Agatha Raisin struggles to adapt to life in a quiet country village - but she soon finds that there is murder and mayhem aplenty to keep her busy. Among the cases she has to deal with are a poisoned quiche; a vet who has been ‘put to sleep’; a hanged horticulturist; a murdered rambler and a curate who meets his Maker somewhat sooner than expected.

Lord Percy Hunterdon despaired: He had inherited a Gothic horror of an estate along with a pair of 15-year-old brats to marry off. It was no secret to him that finding husbands for these two vile young ladies would require the utmost expertise: the care of a governess of superior caliber.

Fanny and her groom had been tricked! Parents on both sides, all impoverished, had decided to recoup their families' losses by marrying their children to the progeny of a wealthier neighbor. The joke was on them, however, when it was outed that neither family had a penny to its name.

When Priscilla Halburton-Smythe brings her London playwright fiancé home to Lochdubh, everybody in town is delighted...except for love-smitten Constable Hamish Macbeth. Yet his affairs of the heart will have to wait. Vile, boorish Captain Bartlett, one of the guests at Priscilla's engagement party, has just been found murdered—shot while on a grouse hunt.

The shy Miss Yvonne Grenier, a beautiful fugitive of the French Revolution, is quite terrified when a dangerous enemy boards her stage to York. Luckily, Miss Hannah Pym is also on board. Ever the matchmaker, Miss Pym sees the answer to Yvonne's plight in the hands and heart of another passenger - the Marquis of Ware. Handsome and tailored to perfection, the marquis' birth and fortune are armor enough to defend Yvonne.

As the youngest of four unmarried vicar's daughters, Frederica feared her destiny was to die of tedium in the sleepy village of Barton Sub Edge. Her looks deemed "unfortunate", her willful notions damned as "difficult", she never dreamt the arrival of a rake would challenge her fate in the most surprising way.

It was an unfair decision - to be forced to choose between her home and her heart…When one of her sisters is attacked by Harry Devers, the lecherous son of Mannerling's present owner, Abigail Beverley puts her obsession with reclaiming the mansion on hold. It is then that Abigail meets the dashing and extremely eligible Lord Burfield, fresh back from the army and in full-time pursuit of a bride. She must be quick to grab his attention lest he be snapped up by Prudence Makepeace.

The Beast - that was what they called her. With her plump body and rough tomboy ways, she felt more like a clown. It was hopeless. Poor penniless Tilly could only sit among the chaperons as a paid companion to the spiteful Lady Aileen. The best she could do was sit…and dream. But suddenly Philip, Marquess of Heppleford, the most eligible bachelor of all, decided he wanted her for himself, to be his wife, and they were married. His intent was to keep his freedom, fulfill the conditions of his father's will, and shock his aunts.

What clever woman would want a man like Lord Harry Desire? Why, he was clearly a lummox - languid, vain, and bland. Not even his beautiful face could redeem him. But he stood to inherit a vast fortune, and that was good enough for Deirdre's father, a spendthrift vicar who arranged the match to rescue himself from imminent financial collapse. Leave it to Deirdre to contrive an escape, a quick elopement with her one true love, the dashing Guy Wentwater.

As far as matrimonial prospects were concerned, Lucy Bliss was told she'd make an excellent clergyman's wife. Her mother had loftier aspirations, however, for Lucy's lovely younger sister, Belinda. Belinda would marry a duke, more specifically the duke of Wardshire. Lucy was truly horrified. "Lucifer" Wardshire was rumored to be as wicked as the devil, with orgies and mistresses - and worse.

At age twenty-three, the petite Lady Margery has alreadygraced the rows of wallflowers for many a season. With the one exception ofCharles, the Marquess of Edgecombe and the only man who ever dances with her, Lady Margery will have nothing to do with men; what's more, she does not evenparticularly like Charles. Bored beyond words, she firmly decides this is the end of itall and returns to the comfort of her only love, her home at Chelmswood. Butshe does not find comfort even there.

He stated quite bluntly--and much to Isabella's relief--that theirs would be a marriage in name only. But neither Harry nor Isabella was aware of the other's disguise, contrived in vain to thwart the impending nuptials. Isabella was not the selfish ice princess she seemed, nor was Harry a mincing dandy but rather a merry profligate.

She was a bewitching young girl, that pretty Polly Marsh, and she knew it. She also knew that beauty could be her passport into the castles where she had always known she belonged. So she set her sights on a duke and joined the firm of Westerman’s as a stenographer. Surely one of that noble family would notice her, and then all her dreams would come true! The trouble with pretty Polly Marsh was that she just didn’t know her place.

After ten long years, the Earl of Devenham has returned to wed Mary Anstey, only to find that their feelings for each other have cooled off considerably. Nevertheless, they both put on bright faces for the benefit of family and friends. But Mary's younger sister Emily sees through their masquerade and would sacrifice anything rather than see her retiring sister married to the now-haughty earl.

"I am Miss Lamberton. Miss Constance Lamberton. I hoped that you would employ me as your companion." So it was that quiet, reserved Constance came to the household of the haughty but beautiful Lady Amelia. She would serve as the lady's chaperone throughout the season's many festivities, finding herself an unwitting accomplice in Lady Amelia's scheme to trap the very eligible Lord Philip into marriage. But it was not Lady Amelia who won Lord Philip's heart. It was the pale, golden-eyed Constance herself.