Amita Murray takes us on a journey from the pleasure gardens of society to the dangerous streets of 19th century London, in this spectacular romantic debut by an unforgettable new voice.
Intrigued? Well read on to discover the synopsis and an excerpt from Amita Murray’s Unladylike Lessons in Love, which is out May 16th.
“Women mind their reputation if they want to marry. I don’t want to marry.”
As the eldest daughter of an English earl and his Indian mistress, Lila Marleigh knows what it’s like to be an outsider from “polite” society. As children, she and her sisters were wrenched from their home and sent to England, never quite accepted by those who claimed to care for them. Now Lila has set herself up as hostess of an exclusive gaming club, charming the ton that flocks to her establishment each night, though it shuns her by day.
One night, Ivor Tristram comes barging through her door, accusing her of being his father’s mistress. Lila defies his expectations at every step and convinces him to navigate London’s rat pits and pleasure gardens with her, in her quest to solve a violent crime.
As they set out together to uncover the truth, an irresistible passion ignites that will shake them to the core. Lila must fight to protect those she loves, yet the biggest threat is to the sanctity of the heart she has guarded so carefully all her life.
Lila sprang to her feet as if she weren’t completely exhausted and her butler Walsham wasn’t making her anxious. Her dark curls were coiled high on the top of her head and then left to fall down her back. She pushed away unruly strands that were clinging damply to her forehead. Her net silver overdress sparkled, and she shook out the folds of the midnight-blue silk dress that hugged her figure and, followed by the stiffening Walsham, turned to make her way out of the heaving room.
But this was easier said than done. The room was packed, and everyone wanted a piece of Lila Marleigh—some wanted as many pieces as they could get.
Donald Barrymore, Viscount of Herringford, was the first to stop her, with a hand squeezing her upper arm, which she batted playfully away with her fan. His face was purple. The waistband of his trousers was bursting and his cravat more wilted than the hothouse lilies that one of her admirers had sent her, fresh from his estate, just this morning. Herringford had that tottering look that said he should have stopped drinking about three drinks ago—Lila could calculate these things down to the mouthful. She sighed inwardly.
“Lord Herringford, what a hot summer we’re having,” she said in her usual vibrant voice. She checked herself. The cheery tone was grating on her nerves tonight.
The man didn’t notice the complete lack of originality in the remark. “I heard you’re backing Kenneth Laudsley to win the race to Brighton, m’dear,” he said, leaning closer, licking his lips at the deep V of her neckline. “You know his racers don’t hold a candle to the ones I’m putting up for m’nephew?” He squinted at her cleavage as if he was thinking about diving into it.
Her smile widened. She placed her fan under his chin and lifted his face so he was forced to make eye contact. “You’re quite right, Lord Herringford. At this rate, I’ll be forced to run the race myself.”
She was turning away. She meant it as a joke—after all, it would be the scandal of the summer if a woman raced a curricle to Brighton—but, to her surprise, it created an excited hum.
“I’d lay a monkey to see that,” said Henry Alston. She turned to look at him. He was pink-faced too, but in a young and overeager way. He was slim, only nineteen, and his chestnut locks were flying in all directions. He blushed. In his own way, he was just as painfully eager as Lord Herringford, but it was hard to be anything but kind to him, he was just a boy.
Lila’s eyes darted toward Walsham. He looked as though he was willing to be patient until the end of time. She bit her lip but gave her guests her sparkling smile.
At this late hour the women were laughing louder, and the men were swaying dangerously close. It took several minutes to disentangle from the group. It was a good thing, Lila thought, as Herringford pawed at the air behind her, that she had given up trying to save her reputation a long time ago. As she started to wind her way to the door again, she noticed a man she hadn’t seen in her salons before, standing nearby, speaking to no one, an amber glass of brandy held carelessly in one hand. He was over medium height and his broad shoulders and chest made him look imposing. Her practiced eye noticed the strength of his thighs and the understated but elegant clothes. He was wearing pantaloons and Hessians, but she imagined he would be more comfortable in riding clothes. The hair was dark, the face broad, the eyebrows shapely. But these were not what caught her attention. She couldn’t look away from the piercing crystal-blue eyes that were looking at her, not lasciviously like Herringford, nor with a deep blush like Henry Alston, but with strong dislike.
As she stared at him, he didn’t turn away, but instead took a deliberate sip of his drink. She was startled, wondering who he was and why he was looking at her with such loathing. She made herself turn away.
When she finally made it out of the ballroom, she shut the door behind her and sagged. A sliver of longing pierced through her, though for what she didn’t know exactly.
She opened her eyes and shook herself. This wouldn’t do. Whatever the longing was for, it could never be hers. She squared her shoulders as Walsham led the way to the front door.
“I told the person that the back door would be more suitable. But she is refusing to leave until she has seen you, Miss Marleigh.”
“Since when do you let people refuse you anything, Walsham?” Lila murmured.
But then she stepped out into the humid night air and saw the reason for Walsham’s disapproval and his reticence. The girl standing outside was dressed in rags, big with child and fuming, and she looked as though nothing—no woman, no man, no mountain—would dislodge her from Lila Marleigh’s front door.
Excerpted from the book by UNLADYLIKE LESSONS IN LOVE by Amita Murray. Copyright © 2023 by Amita Murray. From Harper Voyager, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers. Reprinted by permission.
