Bright Star (eBook)

Paula Panariello (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
276 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-8537-5 (ISBN)

Infos

Can the most unorthodox girl in the ton become the model Duchess? Philippa Stanhope is unconventional to everyone but herself. To Philippa's way of thinking, the ton is the problem. Unfortunately, she must live in her world and conform to its conventions to find a husband. Elliot Dorset, Viscount Somerset, is hunting for the perfect Duchess. He is looking for one who is beautiful, elegant, and most importantly traditional. When Elliot meets Philippa her actions are a catalog of unusual behavior for a potential Duchess. However, sometimes the most unusual behavior is exactly perfect.

Paula Panariello is from a small town in Western Pennsylvania and has spent the last thirty years reading sweet historical romance novels. Sweet historical romance is her favorite due to her interest in history and the pure escapism of a good happily-ever-after. In her previous career, Paula was a registered nurse for many years. She has always had the idea for a good story running through her head and put her ideas to paper. Paula views human emotions as intricate and unique as snowflakes. Love, loss, anger, and frustration elicit vastly different responses, a truth often glossed over in the predictable plots of typical historical romance novels. Paula infuses her characters with depth and complexity, breathing fresh life into the genre. She believes understanding our diverse reactions to adversity holds profound lessons and strives to translate these insights into captivating stories that draw readers into her world.

Textauszug

Chapter 1

Philippa Stanhope rolled her eyes as she watched a young couple glide past her. She imagined the giggling girl was hoping her partner, a stiff-looking young man with a shock of hair the color of carrots, would choose her as his future bride. The young girl’s feigned attempt at looking coy, combined with her incessant giggling, wasn’t working. Phil could see the boredom and disinterest in the young man’s dull eyes and forced smile. He was simply doing his duty, checking out the new crop of debutantes as if they were prized cows, searching for the best choice to take home to the waiting herd. This fresh-faced girl didn’t have a chance. Phil gave a sigh as the couple breezed by; her little mouth turned up at the corners in a smirk.

The St. James ball was the grandest event of the ton social season. Each spring, its members waited eagerly for their coveted invitation to the glittering event. Among the ton’s future brides, the possibility of a match during the great Marriage Mart was greatly enhanced during such a prestigious squeeze.

Visions of dances with suitable young men whirled through every young woman’s head. That is, except for Miss Philippa Stanhope. Sitting along the side of the enormous ballroom in one of the chairs reserved for wallflowers and their chaperones, Phil absently pushed one of the multiple pins back into her heavy sable hair and sighed again. She hadn’t wanted to come and only agreed to attend due to the insistence of her brothers. Once her obligatory dances with her brothers’ friends were accomplished, she had returned to her seat on the sidelines.

Crossing her right leg over her left, her right foot began moving under her rose silk ball gown. Watching the waltz being performed before her; her mind began to wander. One…Two…Three…One…Two…Three…One…Two…They must have beeswax candles on the chandeliers. My brother tells me they are costly, but they don’t drip. Two…Three…One…Daffodils. I just love daffodils. The scientific name is narcissus. There is also Lily-of-the-valley. The scientific name is …what is it…let me see… oh yes, Convallaria majalis…Three… One…Two…Three…What beautiful marble edging around the wood floor. I wonder if it is quarried in great slabs or if it comes out as a rock and must be chiseled and polished to achieve this look. Two… Three.

“Philippa Stanhope! For heaven’s sake! Sit up straight!” Mrs. Darling had been chatting with a friend. Her sharp tongue and piercing blue eyes jolted Phil out of her reverie and she quickly straightened her spine to full capacity, revealing a toned and shapely figure that would be the envy of any girl in this sea of prospective brides. That is if anyone could see the beauty hidden under the slouch and boredom.

Phil slapped on a big smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, but that she hoped would appease her chaperone. She missed her longtime governess and companion, Miss Cleves, who had been called away to care for her mother. Cleves understood Phil like no one else and would understand the misery she was enduring in what they both dubbed The Cattle Call Ball. They had had a good laugh over that one.

So, Miss Cleves’ absence had necessitated Phil being left to the supervision of Mrs. Darling, her Grandmama Sharp’s bosom friend. Where Cleves had been an ideal companion, Mrs. Darling didn’t understand Phil at all and felt it was her duty to get her protege married off quickly before she became totally unmarriageable.

The waltz taking place in front of her was winding down and Mrs. Darling had paused her conversation with her friend. She would see it as her duty to find the next partner for Phil.

Philippa was entering her second season on the great Marriage Mart. Smoothing her hands over her pale rose-colored silk gown, she tried to appear interested in what was looking to be a very long and arduous evening. She tugged on her long white gloves and reached up to straighten her rose-colored plumes, patting the curled strands of hair around her heart-shaped face. Her attire was so unlike the normal drab skirts and the scarves she used to pull her hair back that she had a hard time not fidgeting, ready to flee at the slightest opportunity. She just wanted to be back home in the library where she spent most of her days.

She glanced around the ballroom as Mrs. Darling resumed her conversation with the dowager on her other side. The orchestra was taking a break and pockets of people stood around the tables heavily laden with food and drink.

Phil’s eyes wandered around the beautiful ballroom with its sweeping two-story green and gold walls that gave the appearance of vines climbing up the sides. Five enormous chandeliers lit the space, and the floors were a creamy marble. On every windowsill, flowers from their gardens showed the care of their superior gardener. The sprays of daffodils, tulips, and lily-of-the-valley were majestic in their artful placement around the ballroom.

The young ladies fortunate enough to receive an invitation to this prestigious event were the creme de la creme of high society. It was the dream of every eligible, marriageable girl in the kingdom—except her. She could not stand the silly primping and preening and knew that she was deemed unusual. She rather enjoyed being unusual.

Again, her reverie was interrupted by a voice in her ear. “Allow me to remind you,” Mrs. Darling hissed, “That it is your responsibility to find a young man to marry this season. You know better than I, that your brother can ill afford another season of allowing you to sit along the wall.” Mrs. Darling was portly and had a large bosom which she disguised with fichu lace in the neckline of her dresses. She gave off a formidable air that made Phil even more uncomfortable.

“I understand Mrs. Darling,” Phil said meekly. She did understand. She knew well that her brother was bordering on a very impecunious existence and could only afford this season because a small amount of iron was found on his property. When that was exhausted, their resources would be depleted. It was making Philippa feel like an increasing burden. It was also time to find a husband, so she could have a home of her own. However, her chances were not good without a handsome settlement or excessive beauty, which she felt she did not possess.

Mrs. Darling suddenly smiled brightly as she peered at something over Philippa’s shoulder. Turning to look, Phil saw her worst nightmare approaching. She groaned inwardly and gripped her hands together tightly. No! No! Not him!

Lord Lanigan lumbered across the dance floor, zeroing in on her. Unfortunately, this seemed to be the one man she could attract. Everyone knew Lord Lanigan was in search of a new wife. He was an earl with a large piece of property on the Scottish border. His recently departed first wife had been unable to present him with an heir before her untimely death. Now on the hunt for a new wife to present him with said heir, he had set his sights on Phil. He either hadn’t heard about her blue stocking leanings or he didn’t care. Perhaps he thought it would make her easier prey. Phil had no interest in becoming the next Lady Lanigan. Mrs. Darling, however, thought it would be the perfect match.

“Here comes Lord Lanigan,” Mrs. Darling whispered through her clenched teeth. “You are very fortunate, you know. He comes with a considerable fortune and despite all your strangeness, he does not seem to mind.” She said this as if it were a compliment.

Lord Lanigan stepped up and bowed to the ladies who rose and curtsied in acknowledgement. “Mrs. Darling and Miss Stanhope, it is such a pleasure to see you.”

“Lord Lanigan, you are so good to single us out for your attention,” Mrs. Darling fawned.

“Lord Lanigan,” Phil mumbled, staring at the floor as if something interesting had been placed there.

“Miss Stanhope, I hope there is room on your card for the next dance.” The man’s enthusiasm was misplaced on Phil who wished the floor would open up and devour her, saving her from having to endure the rest of this evening.

“Of course there is,” Mrs. Darling hurried to say excitedly. “Even if there was not, Miss Stanhope would gladly make room for you,” Mrs. Darling flattered.

Oh, good heavens! If only she could find the right man, she might enjoy these things. Lord Lanigan was definitely not right for her, but she obediently took his proffered hand as he escorted her to the two lines that were forming for a set of country dances.

Lanigan was a short, portly man close to fifty years old, over twice Philippa’s age, which seemed repulsive to her. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the sweat from his balding pate and face. Dressed in a gray jacket and breeches and pink waistcoat and shirt, his attempt to fit in with the younger dandies simply made him look silly, not younger.

“Miss Stanhope,” he said, addressing her as if she had just come out of the school room. “I am so happy to see you again. It seems we keep meeting at these affairs.”

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Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 27.1.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-13: 979-8-3509-8537-5 / 9798350985375