The
Secrets of Sir Richard Kenworthy
Smythe-Smith Quartet # 4
Smythe-Smith Quartet # 4
By: Julia Quinn
Releasing January 27th, 2015
Avon Romance
Sir Richard Kenworthy has less than a month to find a
bride. He knows he can’t be too picky, but when he sees Iris Smythe-Smith
hiding behind her cello at her family’s infamous musicale, he thinks he might
have struck gold. She’s the type of girl you don’t notice until the second-or
third-look, but there’s something about her, something simmering under the
surface, and he knows she’s the one.
Iris Smythe-Smith is used to being underestimated. With
her pale hair and quiet, sly wit she tends to blend into the background, and
she likes it that way. So when Richard Kenworthy demands an introduction, she
is suspicious. He flirts, he charms, he gives every impression of a man falling
in love, but she can’t quite believe it’s all true. And when his proposal of
marriage turns into a compromising position that forces the issue, she can’t
help thinking that he’s hiding something...even as her heart tells her to say
yes.
As a
huge fan of Julia Quinn, I was extremely excited to get started on Smythe-Smith
Quartet book 4! I was cheering and jumping up and down (much to my husband’s
amusement) when the book arrived on my iPad…unfortunately my joy was dimmed a
little once I started the book, I will explain more later.
We
start the story with Sir Richard Kenworthy, He has a secret and to protect this
secret, he needs a wife. But not just any wife, he needs a wife who is
unassuming, a wallflower if you will. Someone who is intelligent, someone he
will enjoy being married too. But the most important fact of all…it must be
someone he can marry in the next 2 weeks and not put up a fuss.
Iris
is an unassuming, very pale cello player in the Smythe-Smith quartet. She is a
highly intelligent young woman, who after 3 seasons, wants to find someone of
her own. When Iris first see Sir Richard, she is unnerved by him, and maybe a
little intrigued…but after a week of outings, Iris is surprised when Richard
proposes, even more so when she is found in a compromising position…I am going
to leave it there as I don’t wish to give away any more of this story.
Okay,
so in all honesty I had to read this book twice, before I managed to be able to
get into it. It is not the normal Julia Quinn book, it’s a little dark which I
actually don’t mind. But the downsides I found that some of the characters were
relationships were detached; there was just not the chemistry there that has
been in past books. I also found the storyline a little jumpy; ultimately it
just wasn’t a smooth read, just very rushed.
So
after much long and drawn out consideration I give this book 7 out of 10.
I
would just like to add that I don’t think being an author is an easy job in any
respects. You pour your life and heart into a book and if you stray away from
the normal formula readers (like me) complain. But please don’t let my words
stop you from buying this book, my review is based on my thoughts and feeling
alone. Julia Quinn is an amazing author, one that I urge you to read. And
though this was not one of my favorite books, it will never stop me from buying
every single other book she writes in the future.
Pleinsworth
House
London
Spring
1825
To
quote that book his sister had read two dozen times, it was a truth universally
acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want
of a wife.
Sir
Richard Kenworthy was not in possession of a fortune, but he was single. As for
the wife …Well, that was
complicated.
“Want”
wasn’t the right word. Who wanted a wife? Men in love, he
supposed, but he wasn’t in love, had never been in love, and he didn’t
anticipate falling in such anytime soon.
Not
that he was fundamentally opposed to the idea. He just didn’t have time for it.
The
wife, on the other hand …
He
shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glancing down at the program in his hand.
You
are Cordially Welcomed to
the 19th Annual Smythe-Smith Musicale
the 19th Annual Smythe-Smith Musicale
featuring
a well-trained quartet of violin, violin, cello, and pianoforte
He
had a bad feeling about this.
“Thank
you, again, for accompanying me,” Winston Bevelstoke said to him.
Richard
regarded his good friend with a skeptical expression. “I find it unsettling,”
he remarked, “how often you’ve thanked me.”
“I’m
known for my impeccable manners,” Winston said with a shrug. He’d always been a
shrugger. In fact, most of Richard’s memories of him involved some sort of what-can-I-say shoulder
motion.
“It
doesn’t really matter if I forget to take my Latin exam. I’m a second son.” Shrug.
“The
rowboat was already capsized by the time I arrived on the bank.” Shrug.
“As
with all things in life, the best option is to blame my sister.” Shrug. (Also, evil
grin.)
Richard
had once been as unserious as Winston. In fact, he would very much like to be
that unserious again.
But,
as mentioned, he hadn’t time for that. He had two weeks. Three, he supposed.
Four was the absolute limit.
“Do
you know any of them?” he asked Winston.
“Any
of who?”
Richard
held up the program. “The musicians.”
Winston
cleared his throat, his eyes sliding guiltily away. “I hesitate to call them
musicians …”
Richard
looked toward the performance area that had been set up in the Pleinsworth
ballroom. “Do you know them?” he repeated. “Have you been introduced?” It was
all well and good for Winston to make his customary cryptic comments, but
Richard was here for a reason.
“The
Smythe-Smith girls?” Winston shrugged. “Most of them. Let me see, who’s playing
this year?” He looked down at his program. “Lady Sarah Prentice at the
pianoforte—that’s odd, she’s married.”
Damn.
“It’s
usually just the single ladies,” Winston explained. “They trot them out every
year to perform. Once they’re married, they get to retire.”
Richard
was aware of this. In fact, it was the primary reason he had agreed to attend.
Not that anyone would have found this surprising. When an unmarried gentleman
of twenty-seven reappeared in London after a three-year absence … One did not
need to be a matchmaking mama to know what that meant.
He
just hadn’t expected to be so rushed.Frowning, he let his eyes fall on the pianoforte.
It looked well-made. Expensive. Definitely nicer than the one he had back at
Maycliffe Park.
“Who
else?” Winston murmured, reading the elegantly printed names in the program.
“Miss Daisy Smythe-Smith on violin. Oh, yes, I’ve met her. She’s dreadful.”
Double
damn. “What’s wrong with her?” Richard asked.
“No
sense of humor. Which wouldn’t be such a bad thing, it’s not as if everyone
else is a barrel of laughs. It’s just that she’s so … obvious about it.”
“How
is one obvious about a lack of humor?”
“I
have no idea,” Winston admitted. “But she is. Very pretty, though. All blond
bouncy curls and such.” He made a blond bouncy motion near his ear, which led
Richard to wonder how it was possible that Winston’s hand movements were so
clearly not brunette.
“Lady
Harriet Pleinsworth, also on violin,” Winston continued. “I don’t believe we
have been introduced. She must be Lady Sarah’s younger sister. Barely out of
the schoolroom, if my memory serves. Can’t be much more than sixteen.”
Triple
damn. Perhaps Richard should just leave now.
“And
on the cello …” Winston slid his finger along the heavy stock of the program
until he found the correct spot. “Miss Iris Smythe-Smith.”
“What’s
wrong with her?” Richard asked. Because it seemed unlikely that there wouldn’t
be something.
Winston
shrugged. “Nothing. That I know of.”
Which
meant that she probably yodeled in her spare time. When she wasn’t practicing
taxidermy.
On
crocodiles.
Richard used to
be a lucky fellow. Really.
“She’s
very pale,” Winston said.
Richard
looked over at him. “Is that a flaw?”
“Of
course not. It’s just …” Winston paused, his brow coming together in a little
furrow of concentration. “Well, to be honest, that’s pretty much all I recall
of her.”
Richard
nodded slowly, his eyes settling on the cello, resting against its stand. It
also looked expensive, although it wasn’t as if he knew anything about the
manufacture of cellos.
“Why
such curiosity?” Winston asked. “I know you’re keen to marry, but surely you
can do better than a Smythe-Smith.”
Two
weeks ago that might have been true.
JULIA QUINN started writing her first
book one month after finishing college and has been tapping away at her
keyboard ever since. The New York Times bestselling author of twenty-four
novels for Avon Books, she is a graduate of Harvard and Radcliffe Colleges and
is one of only fifteen authors ever to be inducted in the Romance Writers of America
Hall of Fame. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family.
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