{"product_id":"the-secret-daughter-isbn-9780593549704","title":"The Secret Daughter","description":"\u003cb\u003eWhen two strangers meet under false pretenses during an idyllic week in the French countryside, they’ll each need to face the truth to find one other again, in a dazzling new Regency romance from the national bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThe Heiress’s Daughter\u003c\/i\u003e.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOrphaned Zoë Benoît has spent the last three years in Paris learning how to be a lady. But Zoë is torn—as an independent spirit and a talented artist, she cannot help but want more than the tightly controlled life of a society lady.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOn an impulsive visit to the château where her mother lived, Zoë, disguised as a maidservant named Vita, meets a handsome wandering artist, known simply as Reynard. One blissful week with the charming Reynard convinces Zoë that this is the man and the life for her—until she discovers what he’s been hiding from her, and she flees, heartbroken.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLonging for the chance to redeem himself, Reynard searches far and wide for the woman he knows as Vita, to no avail. Disheartened, he returns to England to reluctantly resume his role as Julian Fox, the Earl of Foxton. However, when he sees one of Zoë’s paintings, he realizes she’s in London, and becomes desperate to find her before it’s too late. But even if they reunite, can he convince Zoë he’s worthy of her trust and prove to her that, with him, she can be a free-spirited artist \u003ci\u003eand\u003c\/i\u003e a countess?“I never miss an Anne Gracie book.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003eJulia Quinn\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003ePraise for the novels of Anne Gracie\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"This duel between determined male suitors and reluctant ladies is grounded with authentic emotional connections and a well-crafted plot. Paired with colorful secondary characters—which include three adorable little girls, a cat, one extremely annoying mother and several quirky gentlemen—the result is a thoroughly entertaining tale. Readers are in for a treat.\"\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eShelf Awareness\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e, on \u003ci\u003eThe Scoundrel's Daughter\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“For fabulous Regency flavor, witty and addictive, you can’t go past Anne Gracie.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003eStephanie Laurens\u003c\/b\u003e, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"[A] confection that brims with kindness and heartfelt sincerity...you can’t do much better than Anne Gracie who offers her share of daring escapes, stolen kisses, and heartfelt romance in a tale that carries the effervescent charm of the best Disney fairy-tales.\"\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eEntertainment Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“With her signature superbly nuanced characters, subtle sense of wit, and richly emotional writing, Gracie puts her distinctive stamp on a classic Regency plot.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eChicago Tribune\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Anne Gracie’s writing dances that thin line between always familiar and always fresh.”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eNew York Journal of Books\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Will keep readers entranced…. A totally delightful read!”\u003cbr\u003e—\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eRT Book Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eAnne Gracie\u003c\/b\u003e is the award-winning author of the Marriage of Convenience, Chance Sisters, and Brides of Bellaire Gardens romance series. She started her first novel while backpacking solo around the world, writing by hand in notebooks. Since then, her books have been translated into more than eighteen languages, and include Japanese manga editions. As well as writing, Anne promotes adult literacy, flings balls for her dog, enjoys her tangled garden, and keeps bees.Chapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e France\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Late autumn, 1821\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The country house party had been a mistake, Zoë Benoît thought as she said her good nights and went in search of her bedchamber.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She had accepted the invitation, thinking there would be picnics, day trips, rides in the country and so on. It was, after all, what she understood people did at house parties.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Not this group. The guests were predominantly elderly people, and all they seemed to do was to sit and gossip, play cards, eat and snooze. So far the only exercise the ladies had taken was to stroll in the gardens or down to the lake, where they watched the gentlemen fishing-which was all they did, apart from eat, drink, play cards and shoot. It was most frustrating.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As for the handful of younger members of the party, she had very little in common with them. The girls were pleasant enough, but all they talked of was fashion-which was interesting enough-and gossip about people she didn't know.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And the three young gentlemen? They were cronies of Monsieur Etienne, the son and heir-and the less said about him the better.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The only reason she'd accepted the invitation was that she was sure she'd finally have the opportunity to visit her mother's former home, which was about twenty miles away, or perhaps twenty kilometres-the new French system of measuring everything in decimals was confusing; people chopped and changed from one system to the other. But it was not too far away, she was sure.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs behind her. Blast. She knew who it would be. She quickened her pace.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Behind her, Etienne, the spoiled, indulged, and deeply irritating heir of Baron Treffier, quickened his pace. She could hear him puffing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Zoë's temper was at breaking point. Five days she'd been at the Treffiers' country house party, and Etienne had spent four and a half of them in hot and unwelcome pursuit of her. And not for the purpose of marriage, either-he was already betrothed to the unfortunate young woman who'd sat through the house party pretending she hadn't noticed her fiancé's appalling behavior.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Had Zoë been in her position, she would not for a moment have put up with it. Not that she would have accepted him in the first place, fortune or not.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She was fed up with Etienne's importunities, his sly, suggestive remarks and his even more infuriating surreptitious touches and squeezes, not to mention the persistent and unsubtle invitations to his bed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And no matter how often and how firmly-even bluntly-she'd repudiated his advances, his self-consequence was so inflated that he took every rebuff as encouragement.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e His parents must have known what he was like, but they'd done nothing, seeming to think it was natural for their beloved son to behave like a randy goat toward an invited guest. To him, all females were fair game.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Hurrying along, she turned a corner and found herself in a dark, deserted corridor that ended in a wall. Curses. A dead end. She'd been heading to her bedchamber, intending to lock herself in, but the old château was such a rabbit warren of corridors, in her haste she'd taken a wrong turn.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The puffing came closer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Very well then, it was time to make a stand.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Taking a deep breath, she turned and faced him. He bustled toward her, red-faced and breathing hard. Even in the dim light she could see his triumphant leering grin. \"So, mon petit chou, you wait for me.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Zoë might speak French like a native, but she was English enough to dislike being likened to a vegetable, especially by this pig of a man. \"Monsieur Etienne, I am not your little cabbage. I am not even your chou de Bruxelles!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He giggled. \"Ah, so witty, ma belle.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I am not your belle, either. I am your 'touch me again and you will regret it' guest!\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Ah, such fire, such passion, cherie. Je't'adore.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He hurried over to her, and she put up her hands to prevent the embrace that was clearly coming. \"Monsieur Etienne-\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But before she could say a thing, he grabbed her outstretched hands and shoved them above her head. She struggled to free herself, but though he was shorter than her, to her fury, he was stronger. He pushed her hands together, gripping them in one hand, and shoved her hard against the wall.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"How dare you,\" she began, but seeing his mouth aiming wetly for hers, she jerked her head aside, and he slobbered on her neck instead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He pressed her hard against the wall, holding her immobile with his body. His aroused body. She shuddered.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oui, ma belle, I am hot for you too,\" he muttered, and with his free hand he clawed at her skirts, dragging them up, muttering excited obscenities.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She could scream for help, Zoë thought, but in this part of the château there was no telling whether anyone would even hear her, let alone come to help. Monsieur Etienne was indulged by all. No, she knew what to do. She'd never actually done it before, but if ever there was the time . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I'm warning you,\" she said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He giggled with glee and rubbed himself excitedly against her. A cool draft against her legs told Zoë her skirts had reached her thighs. Which gave her much greater ease of movement.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She took a deep breath and jammed her knee as hard as she could between his legs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e With a shriek, Monsieur Etienne released her and collapsed like a failed soufflé, rolling on the floor, moaning and wheezing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She shook out her skirts, dusted her hands and said, \"I said no, Monsieur Etienne, and I meant it.\" She stepped over his writhing body and walked away, leaving Monsieur Etienne in a crumpled heap, swearing and gasping out feeble threats.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Vile, disgusting, horrid little man.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She found the correct corridor, stepped into her bedchamber and locked the door behind her. She leaned against it, wishing it had a bolt as well, and realized she was shaking.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e So much for being a lady. Three years of lessons in proper deportment down the drain.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e One small difficulty and she'd reverted right back to the girl who'd grown up in the back streets of London. But what else could she do? She'd seen him bothering the other young ladies, and yet all they did was blush and move away and bleat at him, hoping he would stop.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Which he'd done once he'd spotted Zoë.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She poured herself a glass of water from the jug on the washstand and drank it down. She sat at the dressing table, removed her jewelry, pulled the pins from her hair and contemplated her reflection. Her hands were still shaking.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She'd done it now.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e There would be a scandal. And she knew who would be blamed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She kicked off her shoes, sat on the high bed and considered her options.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She couldn't stay here now. The house party was far from over-there were at least five days left to go-but she would have to leave. First thing in the morning for preference. She had no intention of staying to deal with the fuss that would erupt once Etienne informed his parents of what she'd done.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Though, would he tell them what she'd done, or would he keep quiet about it, too mortified to admit to defeat by a woman? She wasn't sure.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He'd deserved it, and more, but if he did make it public, he'd probably claim she'd attacked him for no good reason. The scandal might even reach Paris. Certainly it would deeply embarrass and upset Madame DuPlessis, her chaperone, who'd made it possible for her to attend the house party when Lucy, the friend and mentor with whom she'd been living the last three years, had been unable to travel.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It was regrettable-the motherly Madame DuPlessis had been very kind to her, and even if there were no scandal, Zoë had no doubt the good lady would be upset at Zoë's abrupt departure-but what else could she do?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She made up her mind. Whether the despicable Etienne told his parents or not, Zoë would leave first thing in the morning. She'd really only attended because of the locality, and after what had just happened, she doubted any of the guests would be willing to drive her anywhere.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She found some writing paper and ink in the little desk in her room and sat down to write some notes. At first she planned to tell both her chaperone and her hosts that she'd been called away urgently on family business and would apologize for the inconvenience.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But the moment she picked up the pen, she decided no, she would not make things easy for her hosts. They must know of their son's unsavory habits, and yet they'd done nothing to curb them. She was a guest in their home and they owed her protection at the very least.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e She dashed off a letter, which she hoped would leave them squirming with embarrassment. She described in detail the disgraceful way Etienne had behaved throughout the visit and what he'd just attempted. She'd added that she'd been forced to defend herself, but had her guardian been present, Etienne would be facing a duel. Not that she had a guardian, but they didn't know that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Having expended a good deal of satisfying vitriol to the baron and baroness, her note to Madame DuPlessis was much shorter and more matter-of-fact. The kindly lady had been a delightfully lax chaperone, but Etienne's behavior wasn't her fault, so Zoë merely thanked her for her kindness and explained that Monsieur Etienne's behavior had made any continuation here impossible. She added that she would catch the diligence to Paris, which was why she was leaving so early, and hoped it would not be too much trouble for Madame DuPlessis to convey the remainder of her baggage back to Paris when she returned.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It was a pity she wouldn't get to see her mother's former home, but she could see no alternative but to return to Paris. She'd never learned to ride, and besides, she could hardly compound her disgrace by stealing a horse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Feeling calmer, she rang the bell to summon the maid she'd been assigned to help her out of her dress, then began a letter to Lucy and her husband, Gerald.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A few moments later there came a soft knock on her door. She stiffened, then realized Etienne was incapable of knocking softly. It would be Marie, the young maid assigned to her for the length of her stay at the château.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Entrez,\" she called, then recollecting that she'd locked the door, she rose and unlocked it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Your hot water, mademoiselle,\" the maid murmured, and placed a large jug of steaming water on the washstand. \"Shall I help you disrobe?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes, please, and perhaps you could-\" Zoë broke off as the girl turned and the candlelight fell fully on her face. \"Marie,\" she exclaimed. \"What happened?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The maid's eyes were red-rimmed and there was a nasty bruise on her face. Half her face was quite swollen and there was a cut on her cheekbone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marie dropped her gaze in shame. \"It's nothing, mademoiselle.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's not nothing at all. Tell me who did this to you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marie lifted a hopeless shoulder and shook her head. \"Shall I help you undress, mademoiselle?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Zoë eyed the cut on her cheekbone. Made by a signet ring, she thought, a signet ring she'd seen very recently on a pudgy aristocratic finger. \"Monsieur Etienne.\" It wasn't a question.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marie nodded.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Zoë muttered something under her breath. \"You resisted him?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marie nodded again, and a choked sob broke her tenuous composure. \"I am dismissed, mademoiselle. As soon as I have finished with you here tonight, I must leave.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Zoë frowned. \"Tonight? But it's dark. Where will you go? Do you have family nearby?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marie shook her head. \"No family, mademoiselle. I am an orphan.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"So what will you do?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marie's eyes filled with tears again. She gave a hopeless shrug.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Well, let's see to that nasty cut, first. I have some very good ointment that my sister made.\" Zoë fetched the little case filled with Clarissa's products and pulled out a small jar. \"This will help.\" She soaked a clean cloth with the warm water Marie had brought and gently cleaned the girl's face, then smoothed the ointment carefully over the cut and the bruise.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh, that feels nice,\" the girl said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"My sister is very clever.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Thank you, mademoiselle. You are very kind. Now, I must leave or the housekeeper will be angry.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Nonsense! You can't go out into the night with nowhere to go! It's, it's inhumane. Anything could happen to you,\" Zoë said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"But I must, mademoiselle. I was told to be gone as soon as I had completed my duties.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"But what would you do?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marie said in a hopeless voice, \"Walk to the village, I suppose, and try to find another position.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Walk to the village?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Without a character reference, Marie would have no hope, Zoë thought. And walking that distance at night? It was not to be thought of.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You're not going anywhere,\" Zoë told her. \"Certainly not out into the night with nowhere to go! Would you work for me?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"For you, mademoiselle, of course.\" Marie brightened. \"You mean it?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Zoë nodded. The maid's plan to walk to the village had given her an idea. She eyed the maid thoughtfully. \"We're about the same size, aren't we?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marie looked puzzled. \"Oui, mademoiselle,\" she said cautiously.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Good. Take off your dress.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"My dress?\" Marie didn't move.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Zoë laughed at her expression. \"It's all right, we're going to swap clothes, that's all.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Swap clothes? Mine for . . . yours?\" Marie said incredulously.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes. Here.\" Zoë tossed her the plainest of her dresses, still much finer than anything Marie would own, and one of her fine lawn chemises.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Marie stared at the garments. \"Such fine fabric . . . But mademoiselle, this chemise has lace on it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Has it? I suppose so.\" Most of her underclothes were trimmed with lace.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Never have I ever worn real lace.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Zoë smiled. \"Good. There's a first time for everything. Put these on, please, and pass me your clothes.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e With a bemused expression, Marie took off her dress. When it came to her chemise, she hesitated and shook her head. \"It's not fitting, mademoiselle.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Seeing the garment, Zoë understood. It was clean enough, but worn thin and so often mended it was almost entirely made of patches. It reminded Zoë of the underclothes she'd worn in the years before Clarissa Studley had found and claimed her as a sister. Zoë's life had changed dramatically as a result, but she would never forget the life she'd had before.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's perfect,\" she said briskly. \"Exactly what I want. Now, help me off with this gown.\"","brand":"Berkley","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46301972725989,"sku":"NP9780593549704","price":9.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593549704.jpg?v=1767741392","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/the-secret-daughter-isbn-9780593549704","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}