An expert at winning a woman's hand. A woman who cannot be won.Lord Featherstone has the world on his shoulders. Or at least his world. With two brothers and a failing estate he must make funds somehow. But what happens when he falls for a woman? Will his tactics work when the situation is so close and personal?
Everyone thinks Lady Loveluck is a wealthy widow. What they don't know is that she is on the brink of hiring herself out as a Governess in order to pay for her next meal. The only thing keeping her from employment is a growing reputation as a matchmaker. As long as she never falls for another man, as long as she doesn't allow herself to be fooled into marrying, she will be just fine.
But she never counted on being caught up in the beguiling tactics of London's renowned and not so secret matchmaker for men.
Excerpt
She pursed her lips. “What are they doing?”
Lady Loveluck sighed. “I imagine they are primping like peacocks in the hope we will notice and stand at their sides.”
“Oh? Then let’s make our way over.”
She shook her head. “We cannot. That is a most ridiculous display, and I, for one, am not a woman to chase after a man simply because he waved hello in an overly friendly way and then looked away.” She shook her head again. “No, we will instead turn to the side, right here, and speak to this group.”
Three young men stood not too far from them. One had glanced toward Miss Anna more than once. He was tall, pleasing, and would do nicely, if not for a beau, at least for a distraction. And luckily for them all, Lady Loveluck knew the man to his right.
She approached with a smile. “Is that Lord Templeton I see?”
A large smile responded, along with an offer of his elbow. “It is indeed. I am most pleased to see you, Lady Loveluck. And who is this vision at your side?”
“This, I’m so pleased to present, is Miss Anna. And might I add that you are among the first to boast an acquaintance with my particular friend.”
“Then I am most fortunate.” He reached for her hand and placed his lips on it. “Lord Templeton at your service.”
Miss Anna’s smile was genuine as she looked up into his face. “I’m pleased to meet you. How are you enjoying this lovely weather?”
“Oh, it is grand indeed and has made it possible for us to meet so many who will be participating this Season.”
“Yes, most fortunate to be blessed with good weather.”
She looked as though she might panic for a moment with nothing to say, but Lord Templeton smiled. “Have you just recently arrived, then?”
She nodded in obvious relief at an easy topic. “I have, yes. I’ve been living on our country estate in Hereford until now.”
“Your first time in London, then?” His smile grew. “I’d be pleased to offer my assistance. Shall we promenade? Perhaps meet some more people you will see at the dinners and balls?”
“Oh yes, I would like that, thank you.”
Lady Loveluck dashed a grateful expression toward Lord Templeton, but he didn’t see it. His focus had shifted to Miss Anna. Good news indeed. Perhaps the ever-agreeable Lord Templeton would be distracted by someone at last. If Miss Anna had caught his eye, she was fortunate, and Lady Loveluck’s work would be complete. Time to collect on her wager. Her smile grew. She checked the surrounding groups for any sign of Lord Featherstone or Mr. Hartsworth. They had disappeared from view.
Unfortunate.
This new possible victory for Miss Anna would be some‐ thing lovely to show off to her new rival.
She turned away from the group and shifted attention to the area around them. In many ways, it would be lovely to leave London, to relax, do what she wished, when she wished. But there would be no opportunity for any of that anytime soon, not while she needed food to eat. Almost all potential clients would be here in London or perhaps Bath or Brighton. Where clients were, she needed to also be. She’d been selling off properties, hoping no one would be any wiser to her situation. With everyone around her assuming her to be one of the more wealthy women in the Ton, the likes of Miss Anna herself, she had to keep up appearances, if only to continue her business. The solicitor had told her how long it would take to pay off her late husband’s debts. She daren’t think of the amount of years. Every new client carved off a few more of those years.
A lovely smell made her smile and melt a little bit. “Looking concerned. Things not going well for you with Miss Anna?”
She relaxed her face and calmed her expression, turning to Lord Featherstone. “Just the man I wished to gloat to.”
“Gloat?” He lifted his chin, searching the area. “Ah, Templeton? You can’t be serious—or rather, he certainly is not.”
“Isn’t he? He barely glanced in my direction once he laid eyes on Miss Anna. You should not be so quick to judge.”
“I would be surprised indeed, but I’ve been known to be wrong . . . once.” He laughed but then studied her again. His eyes dashed with hints of concern. “Then why the troubled expression? I felt as if the world weighed for a moment on your shoulders. Are you Atlas? Bearing the burdens for us all?”
His tone was jovial, but his expression caring. For the briefest moment, she would have shared a portion of her burden, testing his empathy, but someone laughed nearby and reminded her that no one wanted to hear her burdens, not really. They didn’t care, or they were pleased to hear her suffering. And so, she lifted a shoulder. “Lord Featherstone, don’t we all have our concerns now and again? This shall pass.”
“But will it? Perhaps it need not pass alone?” He stepped closer. “Lady Loveluck.” His eyes were wide, sincere, his face tenderly turned toward her, his hand lifted as though to place on the side of her face, but it lowered.
For a moment she was at his command, drawn into the depths of his eyes, cradled in the embrace of his words. What a relief to share her burdens, to trust another . . . She blinked and remembered that she was standing in front of the expert of wooing women in all of London. “Oh, you are too good.” She stepped away. “I don’t need your methods on me. I see they are effective.” She mock fanned herself. “But unnecessary. Practice on someone else.”
A bit of something sad crossed his expression and then it was gone. He bowed with a flourish. “I see I have met my match indeed. Do not underestimate your own power, my lady. You are quite captivating, even for me.”
She did not believe him, but smiled and played his game. “It’s a wonder you aren’t married yourself.”
“Perhaps if I find the woman who accepts my offerings as what they are, a woman who believes my sincerity, who laughs at my jokes and cries at my sorrows. Perhaps if there is such a woman, and she and I connect in the right manner with the exact right timing, perhaps I would find myself married.” He shrugged.
“It’s a wonder anyone finds a match when you think of it that way.”
“A wonder indeed.” The longing in his expression was curious to Lady Loveluck. Did Lord Featherstone wish for a wife? She could hardly believe it.
Chapter two, page 31-37 From To Win Her Hand © 2022, Jen Geigle Johnson, published by King’s Row Press
PRAISE FOR TO WIN HER HAND
"I loved the character growth, watching them learn more about the other’s heart and hardships, and the realization that perhaps they had more choices than they first thought. Such a sweet regency. I’m so grateful I had the chance to read this one."— Makayla Branson, Reading Past Bedtime
“The house party, the quiet moments, the collection of other characters, and much more all combined together made this is delightful read.”— Julie Carpenter, Goodreads
“Two matchmakers with a wager. What fun for all! [A] heart touching story.”— Shauna Jones, Goodreads
About the Author
Jen Geigle Johnson is an award-winning author, including the GOLD in
Foreword INDIES Book of the Year Awards and LDSPMA Praiseworthy's top award for Romance.
Jen has more stories circulating in her brain than can possibly be told. She discovered her passion for England while kayaking on the Thames near London as a young teenager. History is her main jam. Her literary heroes include the greats: Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. But she has modern sensibilities as well.
Six children and an inspiring husband keep her going and make certain she doesn't stay glued to a keyboard or lost in obscure fascinating details of old castles.
Now, she loves to share bits of history that might otherwise be forgotten. Whether in Regency England, the French Revolution, or Colonial America, her romance novels are much like life is supposed to be: full of adventure.
Title: Beyond the Gray Mountains 
