Publisher: Random House
Series: The Husband Hunter Series Book 2
Published: July 3, 2018
Sensuality Level: Sensual
“The moment the Husband Hunter chooses her husband is but the first time she chooses him. Far from ending the necessity of choosing, that day commits her to a path on which she must choose him again and again all the days of their life together.”
-A Lady's Guide to Passion and Property
When Lucy Holbrook inherits her father’s inn on the edge of London, her fashionable friends give her The Husband Hunter’s Guide to London and urge her to sell the inn and become a society lady, just as her father always wished. Lucy would rather toss the little book out the window. She could never desert her home or blind old Adam who depends on her care or Queenie the cat. When it turns out the old man has an enemy and Lucy’s only help is Captain Clare, a handsome war hero, she may need every bit of good advice the book offers. Lucy finds herself navigating a most dangerous attraction to a man with a secret mission and a baffling crime to solve.
Captain Harry Clare is a younger son whose older brother, the Earl of Mountjoy, has ruined their beloved home. If Harry can solve a cold case mystery for his Foreign Office employers, he’ll be paid enough to redeem his brother’s mortgages and save Mountjoy.
I adored these characters, from the major to the minor and every cast member in between this story made it easy to not only enjoy the differences in the characters, but also to see how they added to the overall arc. There were so many different threads being woven throughout that it is obvious the author knows how to write an engaging story. This story will appeal to those who enjoy a well written historical novel that focuses on romance and mystery. I would read more from this author! –Good Reads 5-Star Reader Review
A LADY’S GUIDE TO PASSION AND PROPERTY takes a surprising turn, and I enjoyed every part of this engaging read, from the slow building romance to the twenty-year-old mystery. The solid hero and heroine only added to my enjoyment of this second installment of the HUSBAND HUNTERS series, and I’m eagerly looking forward to the next book from Kate Moore. Heat level: warm. ~Rose @Roses Are Blue
It's a testament to Moore's writing that I never once found myself rolling my eyes at the audacity of a character or the ridiculousness of a storyline. This was a well-crafted historical romance/mystery that I wished would never end (and thanks to the teaser at the end of the book, I know I have a third story to look forward to)! —Good Reads 5-Star Reader Review
When she pushed open the door, her complaint died. Captain Clare stood with his back to her, his bare back, with a towel draped over one pale broad shoulder, his left hand holding a razor to his jaw. Whatever she meant to say about his interference with Adam died in her suddenly dry throat. His shoulders needed no epaulets. They were quite broad. His smooth skin was marked by tiny white nicks, and one long, thin red line that slashed from under his right shoulder blade down to the band of his trousers.
Heat shimmered in the lazy gaze that collided with hers in the glass. “You.” His raised hand paused in its scraping of the lather on his chin, like a clock figure waiting for the next second to tick off. Then he shook the foam from the blade into the white, chipped basin in front of him. “Come to scold, have you? Adam’s safe.”
Lucy bowed her head to hide her flaming cheeks. Harry Clare had undressed her and put her to bed. Her whole body flashed with sudden warmth at the thought. She tried to tell herself that his attentions must have been swift and impersonal, or at the least not…not other than her care of Adam.
She had forgotten Adam, but there he was in a chair by the fire, dressed and combed, his hands resting on his knees, his head cocked at an alert angle. She crossed the Turkey rug to rest a hand on his shoulder.
“How are you this morning, Adam?” she asked.
“Captain Clare takes a bath every day,” said Adam. “He likes baths.”
Lucy’s face warmed again. Once when he’d first come to the inn, she’d accidentally discovered him lying in a copper bath, his arms resting on the edges, his hands with their long fingers dangling, his head tilted back against the lip, his eyes closed, water beaded on his shoulders, steam rising around him.
“You undressed me,” she said, putting it plainly, sounding him out.
He glanced at her over his shoulder. “I’m sure you’d return the favor if I needed it.”
“Favor?” The image of the tub remained vivid in her mind. He filled her with vast impatience, she who had patiently cared for Adam for years.
“I hope you slept well. Adam did.” He tossed the towel aside and reached for a shirt lying on the end of the bed. He pulled it over his head, and the loose lawn fell into place, shadowing his torso. He had seen her in a similar state.
He fastened the cuffs of the shirt. She ought to be glad that he was decent. The conversation had veered away from her complaint, and she sought to bring it back. “Adam is my responsibility.”
“Along with everything else, apparently.”
“Yes, and I’ll thank you to return my keys.”
“Such a lot of brass to carry. You must feel the weight of them with every step.”
“I can manage. You think I’m not up to running an inn.”
He shook his head. “You needed sleep, not another night of watching over Adam.” From the table by the bed he gathered up her ring of keys, hefting them in his palm and handing them to her. Their fingers met with a brief shock.