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Sweep Me Up, Baron (A Very Fine Muddle Book 4)

A Sentimental Lady and a Scholarly Lord.

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About the Book

A Sentimental Lady and a Scholarly Lord.

Cordelia Bennington, fourth daughter of the Earl of Westmont, glides into her season with all confidence. After all, her requirement for the successful suitor could not be more straightforward. She requires a Corinthian—a fellow who is out sporting all the day long, a man whose tailor almost despairs of encasing his wondrous arms in fabric, a man who might use those wondrous arms to carry her round the house.

If this great beast of a sporting man sees fit to sweep her up in his arms and carry her about at every opportunity, she will not argue against it.

Percival Granger, Baron Harveston, is tall, lean, sophisticated, erudite, and exceedingly well read. He is a member of The Royal Society and the founder of The Society for Serious Literary Examination. He is all intellectual and not a jot of sport.
Two people could not be less suited, but yet when they are separated they find they are pulled toward one another. Each of them realizes that something radical must be done.

Cordelia determines to turn herself into an intellectual with her dear unintellectual aunt’s assistance. Percival is dragged out of doors at all hours by his friend, a Corinthian attempting to remake him into some semblance of a sportsman.
Each will transform themselves into what the other desires.

While Shakespeare understood that the course of love never did run smooth, it is unlikely the bard was imagining twisted limbs, banged heads, and a house fire.

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A Very Fine Muddle
Romance Me, Viscount
Be Daring, Duke
Stand With Me, Earl
Sweep Me Up, Baron
Write for Me, Marquess
Convince Me, Viscount

Details
Author:
Series: A Very Fine Muddle, Book 4
Genre: Regency Romance
Tag: Dragonblade Original
ASIN: B0CNQRXD3T
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About the Author
Kate Archer

By the time I was eleven, my Irish Nana and I had formed a book club of sorts. On a timetable only known to herself, Nana would grab her blackthorn walking stick and steam down to the local Woolworth’s. There, she would buy the latest Barbara Cartland romance, hurry home to read it accompanied by viciously strong wine, (Wild Irish Rose, if you’re wondering) and then pass the book on to me. Though I was not particularly interested in real boys yet, I was very interested in the gentlemen in those stories—daring, bold, and often enraging and unaccountable. After my Barbara Cartland phase, I went on to Georgette Heyer, Jane Austen and so many other gifted authors blessed with the ability to bring the Georgian and Regency eras to life.

I would like nothing more than to time travel back to the Regency (and time travel back to my twenties as long as we’re going somewhere) to take my chances at a ball. Who would take the first? Who would escort me into supper? What sort of meaningful looks would be exchanged? I would hope, having made the trip, to encounter a gentleman who would give me a very hard time. He ought to be vexatious in the extreme, and worth every vexation, to make the journey worthwhile.

I most likely won’t be able to work out the time travel gambit, so I will content myself with writing stories of adventure and romance in my beloved time period. There are lives to be created, marvelous gowns to wear, jewels to don, instant attractions that inevitably come with a difficulty, and hearts to break before putting them back together again. In traditional Regency fashion, my stories are clean—the action happens in a drawing room, rather than a bedroom.

As I muse over what will happen next to my H and h, and wish I were there with them, I will occasionally remind myself that it’s also nice to have a microwave, Netflix, cheese popcorn, and steaming hot showers.

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