Celestine Simons was of good family, but an untimely death and a shortage of funds forces the homely spinster to take a position as governess at the estate of Lord Langlow and his wife. Never one to bemoan her change in fortune, Celestine is content to spend her days raising and overseeing their children, knowing in her heart she will never have any of her own.
Lord St. Claire Richmond, Langlow’s brother, is a rogue and seducer, content to while away his days pursuing pleasure—and driving his brother and sister-in-law mad by reducing their female staff to lovelorn fools with his flirtations. When he learns on his annual Christmas visit that the drab Celestine was hired as governess solely to thwart his dalliances, he devises a scheme to both stir her heart and spite his family’s interfering ways.
But as his game unfolds, the cunning St. Claire discovers this conquest may be more challenging than expected when the thoughtful and intelligent Celestine begins to fire an ache in his own heart. And what began as an amusement to give the plain, timid miss an innocent thrill is turning into much more, as St. Claire realizes she may be the one giving him the thrill—and teaching him in a way only a governess can that real beauty lies beneath the surface and that true love is often found where you least expect it.
"So many emotions go along with this book. I cheered at the end!" —Negar A., Goodreads
About the Author:
Donna Lea Simpson is a nationally bestselling romance and mystery novelist with over twenty titles published in the last eleven years. Besides writing romance and mystery novels and reading the same, Donna has a long list of passions: cats and tea, cooking and vintage cookware, cross-stitching and watercolor painting among them. She lives in Canada.
As an observer of people, I have long thought that men are getting short-changed when people refer to women as born nurterers, ignoring totally the many devoted fathers, husbands, sons and grandsons who give unstintingly of their time and love to those around them. Numerous examples abound, but I was touched by an elderly gentleman I know of who devotedly visits his wife in a nursing home twice each day to feed, bathe, talk to and comfort her. If that isn't nurturing, I don't know what is. I started wondering what kind of woman would appeal to a man with latent nurturing in his soul, and the result was the plot for Lord St. Claire's Angel. By the way, for the sharp-eyed readers who pointed out my mistakes in titles of the nobility, thank you! Thank you a thousand times. My writing has been forever affected by your intelligent criticism.