and even though I enjoyed reading it and laughed and giggled along the way, there were a number of things that were a bit annoying. On the other hand, there were many things that made it enjoyable and funny so let's start there.
I loved Delilah and Thomas as a couple and enjoyed all the banter and fun, loyalty and friendship. The whole group of friends is amazing and I like how they help each other and take care of their friends. The story itself was entertaining and considering the play they were performing, I also liked the idea of a love potion that had to be sprinkled on someone's eyes. Yep, exactly like the potion in Midsummer Night's dream - and guess, which play it is that they are performing? Right.
Soooo....all this chaos that resulted from the use of the potion and everything around it was entertaining and funny but it also made me mad. I don't know how often I thought that NOW would be the moment one of them finally said what they felt and for how long they've felt like it and...the moment came and I was sitting on pins and needles and... nope. Nothing. Niente. Nada. They didn't say anything. At least nothing helpful.
Considering the fact that they've been friends for ages and know each other well, even considering the change of circumstances, it shouldn't have been that difficult to simply TALK. You know, the thing where you use brains and mouth and tell the other what you think and what you mean - and what he or she means to you. Soo...a definite lack of communication, a magic potion that may or may not have worked and a kind of mistaken identity as in the wrong person in the wrong bed, add a healthy dose of absolutely evil witch of a mother, greedy soon-to-be relations and a pinch of pathetic fiancé and you got the mix.
And I may not be a stickler for authenticity but there were a bunch of things that were just unrealistic and not in accordance with the time and its society, even if you were unconventional. Some things just weren't done and you couldn't get away with them without getting shunned and talked about.
Despite all that, the book kept me entertained and I enjoyed the wit and banter and loved to see Thomas and Delilah finally get together so I rate it three stars but would still recommend it because I enjoyed it and will definitely read it again as well.
Valerie Bowman grew up in Illinois with six sisters (she’s number seven) and a huge supply of historical romance novels. After a cold and snowy stint earning a degree in English with a minor in history at SmithCollege, she moved to Florida the first chance she got. Valerie now lives in Jacksonville with her familyincluding her mini-schnauzers, Huckleberry and Violet. When she’s not writing, she keeps busy reading,traveling, or vacillating between watching crazy reality TV and PBS.
Delilah glanced up and down the dim hallway. It was well past three in the morning, she was still
dressed in the pink ball gown she’d worn to the party, and she clutched the small vial of Cupid’s
Elixir in her sweaty, guilty palm. She pressed her back against the shadowed wall not far from the
Duke of Branville’s bedchamber. She could do this. More importantly, she would do this. She’d come
this far, hadn’t she? What did a little sneaking about in the middle of the night matter?
She’d got detailed instructions to Branville’s room from Derek, who thankfully hadn’t asked
any questions about why she wanted to know. According to him, the room was four doors to the
right, just past the staircase on the third floor. The third floor was where all the bachelor gentlemen
were sleeping. It would be a complete scandal if she was found lurking about alone at this time of
night, but she’d waited until the household seemed quite asleep and then waited a bit longer for
good measure. Anyone who saw her now would be skulking about themselves, which meant they
would hardly be in a position to judge her. She briefly wondered if she’d run into Lavinia.
It was not as if she was out to do anything particularly scandalous. It was more silly and
frivolous than anything else. She’d simply die, however, if Branville woke up and asked her what she
was doing sprinkling pixie water in his eyes. She’d already decided to pretend as if she were
dreaming, thinking she was Puck in the play. Sleepwalking. That would make all the sense in the
world. Wouldn’t it? She swallowed hard. Probably not, but she wasn’t about to let the fear of being
caught stop her. Besides, all of her and Lucy’s matchmaking had turned into a colossal mess. If a
spray of perfume could sort it out, so be it. Of course, Delilah’s conscience reminded her that she
hadn’t offered any of the perfume to Rebecca to use on Thomas. She didn’t want to even
contemplate that. She’d already shared it with one other person, and that made her guilty enough.
The image of Madame Rosa’s disapproving, craggy face had haunted her all evening.
Delilah shook off the thought and turned her attention back to the matter at hand. Pressing
her empty palm against the darkened wall, she inched her way along until she came to Branville’s
door. She felt like a spy. This was how professional spies did such things, wasn’t it? Too bad she
was too embarrassed by her actions to ask the veritable house full of professional spies who
happened to be asleep behind other doors right now.
She transferred the vial into her opposite hand and slowly reached to grasp the door handle.
The metal was cold in her bare hand. She’d discarded her gloves, deciding that they would make her
actions more clumsy. The last thing she needed tonight was to be more clumsy than usual.
Decidedly, she needed to be less so.
She clutched the door handle like a lifeline and closed her eyes, steadying her shaking
fingers on the knob. She was close, so close. Praying that the door wouldn’t squeak, she turned the
handle slowly. The only sound was the thumping of her own heart in her ears.
When the handle was turned as far as it would go, she pushed it, praying fervently that it
wasn’t locked. It took a moment before she realized the door was opening. Its hinges silent, merci a
Dieu. Completely silent.
She slipped inside the cool, dark room. Steady, deep breathing came from the bed. Thank
goodness, she hadn’t woken the duke with her entrance. She could barely see a thing, but she didn’t
dare light a candle. A tiny stream of moonlight filtered into the room through a small opening in the
curtains on the far window. She used that to identify the hulking bed in the center of the room. She
tiptoed over to it slowly, taking care in case there was anything to trip over. No doubt she would find
it if there was.
She made it to the foot of the bed without incident and paused, trying to quell her nerves and
dispel her guilt. She clutched the vial more tightly in her palm, shaking with fear and anxiety. Now
that she was here, she had no earthly idea how to drop liquid on a man’s eyes without awakening
him. Besides, how much of it was she supposed to use? Surely not much. She would employ the
tiniest drops possible so as not to disturb him, but she also needed to ensure the perfume touched
his eyelids. Tricky business, this being a fairy. She had a sudden appreciation for Puck.
Holding her breath, she lifted her skirts with her free hand and tiptoed to the right side of the
bed. Because it was summer, the bed curtains weren’t drawn. The window was open, and a slight
breeze blew through the crack in the curtains.
The outline of the duke’s body was barely visible in the moonlight. He was turned away on
his side, his back to her, his face toward the window. She would have to lean over his body to
sprinkle the elixir on his eyes. The bed was tall. She must carefully climb up to do this task properly.
She only hoped she didn’t jostle the mattress enough to wake him.
She waited in silence for a few moments to ensure his breathing remained steady, then she
carefully lifted first one knee and then the other, bracing them on the mattress and pulling herself up,
still clutching the vial. She winced as he moved slightly in his sleep, but he kept his face turned
away. Blast it.
Once she was fully atop the bed, she paused and hoped the hammering of her heart didn’t
wake him. He smelled good, a combination of soap and maleness that she wanted to breathe in.
There was something vaguely familiar about his scent.
Shaking away that unhelpful thought, she moved gingerly across the mattress on her knees
until she came to a stop at his side. His shirt was off. The beam of moonlight hit his smooth, muscled
arm. She swallowed. The man’s chest was positively swoon-worthy. She took a deep breath to calm
her nerves and uncorked the vial. Then she carefully leaned over as far as she could to locate his
eyes. They remained shrouded in the dark, but she took a guess as to their general direction and
tipped the little vial as slowly and carefully as she could. He turned then, and she was afforded
enough light to see that the first tiny drop of liquid did indeed fall directly onto his eyelid.
He blinked, and she held her breath. When he settled back into sleep, she closed her eyes
and said a brief prayer that she would get away with it a second time before tipping the vial once
more to allow another tiny drop to fall on his other eyelid.
He blinked and rubbed at his eyes while Delilah held her breath again, paralyzed with fear.
Soon, he settled back into his pillow and his breathing returned to its steady pace.
She pressed a hand to her throat. It was over. She was done. All she had to do was extract
herself from the bed and the room without being seen or heard. The difficult part was behind her.
Still praying he wouldn’t stir, she backed away from the duke. Slowly. Slowly. She’d nearly
made it to the edge of the bed when he flipped over to face her. A beam of moonlight slid over his
sleeping features.
Delilah gasped.
From No Other Duke But You. Copyright © 2019 by Valerie Bowman and reprinted with
permission from St. Martin’s Paperbacks.
The first in a new
historical rom-com series, a handsome earl hires a fake fiancée to keep
his matchmaking mother at bay, but hilarity ensues when love threatens
to complicate everything.
