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WHERE THERE'S A WILL... What was the point in having beauty and wealth if one couldn't do what one wanted because of one's gender? Angelica didn't know, but she planned on overcoming it. Suffragette and debutante, the Boston Blunderbuss--as she'd been dubbed by the English lord she'd been sent to marry--had nothing if not will. THERE'S A WAY... Lord William Claridge had a wont to gamble and enjoyed training Thoroughbreds, but his older brother had tightened the family's purse strings. Strapped for cash, the handsome rake decided to resort to the unthinkable: Marry. For money. But when his mark turned out to be a more spirited filly than he had ever before saddled, he felt his heart bucking wildly. Suddenly, much more was on the line than his own pocketbook. And the answer still came down to... TAMING ANGELICA.
Taming Angelica was awarded Best Romance to be published in the year 2000 in the Millennium Contest by Monterey Bay Chapter of Romance Writers of America. "A fun, fast-paced adventure of the heart," "Alice Chambers matches a most unusual and intriguing Victorian heroine with a
tantalizing rogue of a hero...Taming Angelica is a
delightful read!" "You'll laugh, grin, and finally sigh with satisfaction: a hot yet humorous tale
of the heart," Taming Angelica is the tale of a woman born
before her time and a man who isn't quite the scoundrel he thinks...Taming
Angelica is a quick fun-filled romp through Victorian London. Alice Chambers
has penned a wonderful story filled with humor and memorable characters. While the
secondary characters leave you laughing out loud, the hero will steal your heart.
The waltz chose that exact moment to end. Miss Hamilton made a great show of fanning herself with her hand. "It's grown quite warm in here, Lord Claridge, don't you think?" She had no idea how warm. "Would you take me outside for some air?" she asked. "We should get a chaperon," he offered, giving her a chance to save herself from what would undoubtedly happen if he got her in private. "Blast a chaperon," she said. Bless her and her stubborn nature. "I'd be honored, Miss Hamilton," he said, extending his arm. She took it, smiling at him shyly as he led her toward the door that led toward a balcony and the gardens beyond. Once outside, he found the evening cool, but not overly so. A full moon shone over the extensive gardens, casting trellises and rose bushes into magical light and shadow. "It's lovely," Miss Hamilton exclaimed. "Who would have dreamed of having such a garden in the city?" "The duchess can't bear to be parted from her marrows, even for the London season." "Do you mean she's growing vegetables in this glorious garden?" "Unless I miss my guess, they'll be just behind that hedge," he said, pointing into the near darkness. "I'd like to see that." He studied her. She wore the smile of a bad whist player with all the trumps. She didn't have the faintest interest in marrows but rather lessons in kissing, with him as instructor. Fine. He felt up to the job. He bent his head toward hers, until his lips were mere inches from her ear. "Allow me to show you." She laughed lightly, a delighted sound that floated out over the silvery landscape as he led her across the balcony and down the steps toward where the duchess always used to plant her marrows. He might look foolish if she'd decided to skip her horticultural efforts this season, but no doubt he'd find something else to discuss. Under a bower of fragrant roses, past a hedge, and off to one side, he found them. "Here you are," she said, gesturing. "Marrows." She dropped her arm from his and turned to face him directly. "They're lovely." She hadn't even glanced at the blessed things, of course, and he wasn't about to waste his time pointing that out, not while he could look at her in the moonlight. Her hair formed a perfect frame for pale skin, large eyes, a delicate nose, and full lips. Lips just waiting for his own. "Lovely," he repeated as he lowered his mouth to hers. "Just lovely." She rested her hand against his chest and raised herself up to him, so close he could feel her breath mingle with his own. "Lovely," she whispered, just before he closed the distance and took her mouth in a tender kiss. He explored her lips, gently moving along the upper and then to the fullness of the bottom one. She tasted like tea with honey, toast with marmalade -- all citrus and innocence. Soft, so soft and giving and inviting. He moved along to kiss the tip of her nose, her eyelids, and back to her lips, and he felt rather than heard the sigh that escaped her. She clenched her hand into a fist against him and leaned into the caress, her own lips taking up the steps of the dance his ached to teach her. She nibbled at him and tasted him, finally tentatively reaching out with her tongue to search for his. He didn't respond immediately but allowed her to grow bolder on her own. The restraint cost him dearly, as the heat of the kiss spread through him. She whimpered and pressed herself against him, sliding her hands up and around his neck. He lifted his face from hers and buried it in her hair, smelling the scent of roses and soap. "Oh, my," she gasped. "Do you like this?" he whispered. "Oh my, yes." He nipped at her earlobe and then kissed the spot just behind it. "And this?" "I had..." She took a ragged breath. "...no idea, um..." He bent to nuzzle the corner of her jaw and then nibbled along the length of her throat. "...no idea," she continued, "that horticulture...oh, my...could be so..." He reached her collar bone and then proceeded up the other side of her neck. "...stimulating," she said in a little cry. He straightened and took her face between his hands. "My dear Miss Hamilton," he said, his own breath coming ragged and shallow. "If you only knew."
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