Showcase - Rules for Engaging the Early by Janna MacGregor

Today I'm featuring Janna MacGregor's #2 in her Widow's Rules series, Rules for Engaging the Earl, a St. Martin's Paperback's new release. 
Enjoy!

ISBN-13: 9781250761613
Publisher: St. Martin's Paperbacks
Release Date: 04-26-2022
Length: 384pp
Widow Rules #2
Buy It: Amazon/ B&N/ IndieBound

ADD TO: GOODREADS

Overview:
Get ready for lost wills, broody dukes, and scorching hot kissing all over London in Rules for Engaging the Earl by Janna MacGregor.

Constance Lysander needs a husband. Or, so society says. She’s about to give birth to her late husband’s child—a man who left her with zero money, and two other wives she didn’t know about. Thankfully, she has her Aunt by her side, and the two other wives have become close friends. But still—with a baby on the way, her shipping business to run, and an enemy skulking about, she has no time to find the perfect match.

Enter Jonathan, Earl of Sykeston. Returned war hero and Constance’s childhood best friend, his reentry into society has been harsh. Maligned for an injury he received in the line of duty, Jonathan prefers to stay out of sight. It’s the only way to keep his heart from completely crumbling. But when a missive from Constance requests his presence—to their marriage ceremony—Jonathan is on board. His feelings for Constance run deep, and he’ll do anything to make her happy, though it means risking his already bruised heart.

With Constance, Jonathan, and the new baby all together, it’s clear the wounds—both on the surface and in their relationship—run deep. But when the nights come, their wounds begin to heal, and both come to realize that their marriage of convenience is so much more than just a bargain.

Read an excerpt:

Chapter One

London

Ten years later


The coach lumbered so slowly that pedestrians were traveling faster than Jonathan’s carriage. Once again, he pulled his timepiece from his waistcoat. Time was of the essence, and he was wasting it. Hell, at this speed, even he could outrun his coach.

After a few minutes, they started to move faster through the streets.

“My lord?” Thomas Winstead, his persistent estate manager, demanded his attention again.

Without warning, the carriage tilted, knocking Jonathan against the side panel. A ragged pain tore through his leg at the sudden jarring from hitting a rut. He sucked in a breath desperate to keep from crying out. “Damnation,” he muttered.

“Lord Sykeston?” With his brow creasing into neat lines, Thaddeus North, his butler, leaned forward.

“I’m fine.” Jonathan let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Your mind is elsewhere.” North’s lips turned downward. “It’s perfectly understandable.”

“The sooner we arrive, the sooner it’ll be over,” Jonathan grunted in response. He didn’t acknowledge or deny the butler’s comments.

“As I was saying, I’ve climbed every tenant’s roof,” Thomas continued. “Two hundred and thirteen pounds for roofing supplies and labor should cover it.”

Jonathan stared at his estate manager. Only a couple of years older than Jonathan, Thomas was the perfect specimen of a man at his best. Jonathan subdued the urge to curl his lip at the thought. There was a time he had relished climbing the ladders with Thomas by his side and inspecting his tenants’ roofs.

Now he couldn’t look at a ladder without grimacing.

Jonathan couldn’t deny that Thomas was a godsend. He completed the tasks that Jonathan could no longer perform. Strong and swift, Thomas had earned the promotion to estate manager.

“Fine,” he answered. “I’ll prepare the funds when I return to Portsmouth. Start work when it’s convenient for the tenants and you.”

“Perhaps you’d like to visit when Thomas starts the repairs?” North prodded gently.

It was the same litany Jonathan had heard repeatedly since he’d returned home. North goading him to see his tenants. Encouraging him to call on his neighbors. It was a waste of time.

“I’m certain they’d welcome your interest.” North’s tone sounded similar to a nursemaid coaxing her charge to take his medicine.

Jonathan carefully swung his gaze to his butler. “I show my interest by paying for whatever repairs are needed. I offer fair rents and don’t gouge them at the end of the harvest season. My share of the bounty is quite minimal compared with others. That’s how I show my interest.”

Thomas’s Adam’s apple wobbled at his curt tone.

Years ago, Jonathan had found immense pleasure working on the betterment of his estates. Now he was thankful Thomas relished the estate work. It gave Jonathan more time for designing the perfect pistol cartridge and his plan for a training school for army marksmen. Too many of them didn’t have the proper training when they were dropped into battle. Even his former commanding officer, the Marquess of Faladen, thought it an excellent idea when Jonathan had presented it to him last month.

The carriage pulled to a stop in front of a modest townhouse in Mayfair.

“We’re here,” North announced with a hint of excitement in his voice.

“Finally,” Jonathan mumbled. “Let’s hope I’m not too late.”

A footman opened the door, and Jonathan carefully made his way down the steps while holding to the handle inside the carriage. Once on the ground, he took his cane from North, then patted the pocket inside his blue broadcloth morning coat, the crinkle of paper reassuring. A special license was a rare and expensive investment, but this moment called for the extraordinary.

Sometimes for the greater good, a man had to venture into the world and claim his wife. Jonathan doubted if today’s events could be considered good for anybody, especially him. Being saddled with a wife would upset his routine, but a promise was a promise. Though he’d left his full-time position in the army years ago, he was still a man of habit. And his habit didn’t include entertaining a wife.

A sensible, more balanced man might have turned on his heel and never looked back. Since Jonathan’s right leg had been completely mangled by two snipers’ bullets, he’d been anything but balanced.

In more ways than one.

Jonathan adjusted his beaver hat with a tug.

“Good luck, my lord,” North called from the coach.

Without acknowledging the kind words of his butler, he made his way to the town house door. What was he even doing here?

He smoothed a hand down his waistcoat. Honestly, he wanted to see her. But if she gave him one pitiful look, he would turn on his one good foot and leave—marriage or no marriage. It made little difference that she had asked for his hand in marriage. With his fist, he knocked on the door. When no one answered, Jonathan repeated his movement, but this time a little more forcefully.

“Come in,” a woman called out, her voice muffled behind the wooden panel.

He entered the modest but elegantly decorated town house not far from the Duke of Randford’s Mayfair home. Christian Vareck, the Duke of Randford, was a friend, one might even say his best friend. Which meant Jonathan should have made the effort to call on him, but that would have required even more pretending on his part to be amenable to social calls and gatherings. A visit to Doctors’ Commons was enough for one day.

Jonathan’s throat narrowed to the size of a small twig, and his grip tightened on his walking stick. It was only natural to be a little queasy. It wasn’t every day that a man married, particularly, when his bride-to-be was carrying a baby.

To be precise, she was carrying another man’s baby.


Copyright © 2022 by Janna MacGregor.

The Series

About the author:

Janna MacGregor was born and raised in the bootheel of Missouri. She is the author of the Cavensham Heiresses series, which begins with The Bad Luck Bride.

Janna credits her darling mom for introducing her to the happily-ever-after world of romance novels. Janna writes stories where compelling and powerful heroines meet and fall in love with their equally matched heroes. She is the mother of triplets and lives in Kansas City with her very own dashing rogue, and two smug, but not surprisingly, perfect pugs. She loves to hear from readers.