Book Tour & Review: The Day of the Duchess by Sarah MacLean

Scandal & Scoundrel #3
By: Sarah MacLean
Releasing June 27, 2017
Avon Books
Link to Follow Tour: Tasty Book Tours
Goodreads
Goodreads series

Blurb
The one woman he will never forget…

Malcolm Bevingstoke, Duke of Haven, has lived the last three years in self-imposed solitude, paying the price for a mistake he can never reverse and a love he lost forever. The dukedom does not wait, however, and Haven requires an heir, which means he must find himself a wife by summer’s end. There is only one problem—he already has one.

The one man she will never forgive…

After years in exile, Seraphina, Duchess of Haven, returns to London with a single goal—to reclaim the life she left and find happiness, unencumbered by the man who broke her heart. Haven offers her a deal; Sera can have her freedom, just as soon as she finds her replacement…which requires her to spend the summer in close quarters with the husband she does not want, but somehow cannot resist.

A love that neither can deny…

The duke has a single summer to woo his wife and convince her that, despite their broken past, he can give her forever, making every day…

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They’ve both made mistakes they regret. Will they keep adding to the list?

It certainly seems that way at first. At least where Seraphina is concerned, who’s angst and distrust for her husband is understandable. However, considering she wronged him first (not that anyone’s keeping tabs), she should cut him some slack quicker than she does. Now don’t get me wrong, I love her strength and determination. I love that she wants to gain her freedom without losing all she’s worked for. I also understand why he behaved the way he did in The Rogue Not Taken (the first in the series). Excellent way to add to the series. In the first book, I didn’t care for Malcolm at all. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one since his bad behavior was the cause of the scandal for Lady Sophie, Seraphina’s sister (one of many of the beloved Soiled S’s, all of whom I adore). I didn’t think it was possible to like him, but this story proves the age-old adage that there’s always 2 sides.

It didn’t take long for me to have empathy for Malcolm, and after a while my like for him outgrew my like for Seraphina. It was obvious she wanted him, but after a while, her hesitancy started to feel more like game-playing than actual fear. I had to keep reminding myself about her business venture and the laws back then in order to keep my irritation from growing.

Her sisters are just as lively as ever. I’m ready for one sister (unfortunately, while I’m writing this I can’t remember which S, and I don’t have my trusted Kindle with me right now) to get her American. They were some kind of fun to read about. I was actually surprised at the ending. I hadn’t expected one part of it, but of course the HEA was expected. Kudos to Maclean for that twist!
This is a great addition to the series, not only because of the fun-loveable, charming characters, but because of how it explained something important from the first book I hadn’t even realized I needed explaining.

Let the dog out, feed the cat, and find someplace comfortable. It’ll be awhile.

Rating system: Cups of Coffee (the less the better)

0: You won’t need any coffee to stay up for this one. It’s intriguing enough all on its own.
1: You’ll stay up late, but not all night. Brew one cup.
2: You’ll read as long as you’re not tired. If you are, two cups should do the trick.
3: I hope you got plenty of rest; you’ll need it, or at least 3 cups.
4: If the cable goes out, read the book. It’s better than nothing, I guess. Oh, don’t forget your brew!
5: Find anything else to do- it doesn’t matter what it is. Don’t waste your coffee. Too much caffeine is bad for you.

My rating: 1 cup of coffee

Author Info
New York Times, Washington Post & USA Today bestseller Sarah MacLean is the author of historical romance novels that have been translated into more than twenty languages, and winner of back-to-back RITA Awards for best historical romance from the Romance Writers of America.

Sarah is a leading advocate for the romance genre, speaking widely on its place at the nexus of gender and cultural studies. She is the author of a monthly column celebrating the best of the genre for the Washington Post. Her work in support of romance and the women who read it earned her a place on Jezebel.com’s Sheroes list of 2014 and led Entertainment Weekly to call her “gracefully furious.” A graduate of Smith College & Harvard University, Sarah now lives in New York City with her husband and daughter.
Author Links: WEBSITE | FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS

Chapter 1
DESERTED DUKE DISAVOWED!
August 19, 1836
House of Lords, Parliament

She’d left him two years, seven months ago, exactly.
Malcolm Marcus Bevingstoke, Duke of Haven looked to the tiny wooden calendar wheels inlaid into the blotter on his desk in his private office above the House of Lords.
August the nineteenth, 1836. The last day of the parliamentary session, filled with pomp and idle. And lingering memory. He spun the wheel with the six embossed upon it. Five. Four. He took a deep breath.
Get out. He heard his own words, cold and angry with betrayal, echoing with quiet menace. Don’t ever return.
He touched the wheel again. August became July. May. March.
January the nineteenth, 1834. The day she left.
His fingers moved without thought, finding comfort in the familiar click of the wheels.
April the seventeenth, 1833.
The way I feel about you . . . Her words now—soft and full of temptation. I’ve never felt anything like this.
He hadn’t, either. As though light and breath and hope had flooded the room, filling all the dark spaces. Filling his lungs and heart. And all because of her.
Until he’d discovered the truth. The truth, which had mattered so much until it hadn’t mattered at all.
Where had she gone?
The clock in the corner of the room ticked and tocked, counting the seconds until Haven was due in his seat in the hallowed main chamber of the House of Lords, where men of higher purpose and passion had sat before him for generations. His fingers played the little calendar like a virtuoso, as though they’d done this dance a hundred times before. A thousand.
And they had.
March the first, 1833. The day they met.
So, they let simply anyone become a duke, do they? No deference. Teasing and charm and pure, unadulterated beauty.
If you think dukes are bad, imagine what they accept from duchesses?
That smile. As though she’d never met another man. As though she’d never wanted to. He’d been hers the moment he’d seen that smile. Before that. Imagine, indeed.
And then it had fallen apart. He’d lost everything, and then lost her. Or perhaps it had been the reverse. Or perhaps it was all the same.
Would there ever be a time when he stopped thinking of her? Ever a date that did not remind him of her? Of the time that had stretched like an eternity since she’d left?
Where had she gone?
The clock struck eleven, heavy chimes sounding in the room, echoed by a dozen others sounding down the long, oaken corridor beyond, summoning men of longstanding name to the duty that had been theirs before they drew breath.
Haven spun the calendar wheels with force, leaving them as they lay. November the thirty-seventh, 3842. A fine date—one on which he had absolutely no chance of thinking of her.
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