The rules of marriage . . . according to Miss Annabel Essex
A husband must be:
Make that very rich. She's had enough of leaky roofs and thread-worn clothing.
London is the center of the civilized world, and Annabel has a passion for silk and hot water.
Good-looking would be nice, but not necessary. Same for intelligent.
Isn't she lucky? She's found just the man And her chosen spouse is nothing like the impoverished Scottish Earl of Ardmore, who has nothing but his gorgeous eyes, his brain--and his kisses--to recommend him.
So what cruel twist of fate put her in a carriage on her way to Scotland with just that impoverished earl and all the world thinking they're man and wife? Sleeping in the same bed? Not to mention the game of words started by the earl--in which the prize is a kiss. And the forfeit . . .
Well. They are almost married, after all.