Ana María and The Fox (The Luna Sisters, Band 1) - Softcover

De La Rosa, Liana

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0593440889 ISBN 13: 9780593440889

Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group, 2023

Inhaltsangabe

"Pleasingly subversive."--New York Times Book Review

“A perfect mix of slow-burn romance, geopolitical maneuvering and sisterly antics.”—The Washington Post

One of Library Journal's Best Romances of 2023!
A BookList Editor's Pick of 2023!

A forbidden love between a Mexican heiress and a shrewd British politician makes for a tantalizing Victorian season.
 
Ana María Luna Valdés has strived to be the perfect daughter, the perfect niece, and the perfect representative of the powerful Luna family. So when Ana María is secretly sent to London with her sisters to seek refuge from the French occupation of Mexico, she experiences her first taste of freedom far from the judgmental eyes of her domineering father. If only she could ignore the piercing looks she receives across ballroom floors from the austere Mr. Fox.
 
Gideon Fox elevated himself from the London gutters by chasing his burning desire for more: more opportunities, more choices. For everyone. Now, as a member of Parliament, Gideon is on the cusp of securing the votes he needs to put forth a measure to abolish the Atlantic slave trade once and for all—a cause that is close to his heart as the grandson of a formerly enslaved woman. The charmingly vexing Ana María is a distraction he must ignore.
 
But when Ana María finds herself in the crosshairs of a nefarious nobleman with his own political agenda, Gideon knows he must offer his hand as protection . . . but will this Mexican heiress win his heart as well?

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Liana De la Rosa is a historical romance author who writes diverse characters in the Regency and Victorian periods. Liana is a graduate of the University of Arizona, and in her past life she owned a mystery shopping company and sold pecans for a large farm. When she’s not writing, Liana is listening to true crime podcasts and pretending she's a domestic goddess while she wrangles her spirited brood of children with her patient husband in Arizona.

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1

London: July, 1863

The wind was relentless. It ripped at her once neat coiffure, whipping strands of black hair against her face, the sting bringing tears to her eyes. It was the most frigid of welcomes.

Ana María wrapped her cloak tighter about her shoulders, burying her chin and cheeks in the warmth of the high collar. She glanced first one way and then the other, her eyes straining to see something—­someone—­who clearly wasn’t there. Where was he?

“Qué feo,” Gabriela—­Gabby—­muttered, her blue-­tinged lips curling as she surveyed the neighborhood surrounding the docks. “Isn’t England supposed to be green? I didn’t expect London to be quite so . . . so gray.”

Neither had she. Ana María sighed as she took in the coal-­choked fog that clung to the docks like the arms of an illicit lover, doing its best to mask the filth and grime of the city. Yet the somber reality of their new home was apparent. The narrow buildings lining the wharf were worn and dilapidated, their brick facades stained gray by generations of coal dust. From her vantage point, she could make out piles of debris and refuse that littered the cobblestoned street, her stomach turning when she spied rats darting among the rubbish, fighting for scraps. Ana María ducked her head at the near constant stream of seagulls swooping down from above, their squawking grating her nerves like an out-­of-­tune pianoforte.

Discreetly shielding her nose with her hand, she inhaled the crisp leather scent of her gloves, thankful it smothered the acrid stench that wafted about her, a foul blend of the sea and human misery.

“Surely we’ll encounter more green the farther we venture into the city,” she murmured, ignoring her youngest sister’s sniff of disbelief.

Of the three Luna sisters, Gabby was taking their exile the hardest, her lavish complaints grating on even Ana María’s nerves. And Our Lady of Guadalupe knew there were no more difficult people than her sisters.

“Where do you think Tío Arturo is?”

Ana María struggled to keep the frown off her lips. “I don’t know.”

“Rather rude of him, isn’t it?” Gabby peered around Ana María, her pretty features darkening. “It’s not like our ship was delayed by a storm and we were pushed off course. The ship docked on the stated date, at the stated time printed on our tickets. He should be here.”

He absolutely should have been, and Ana María sympathized with her sister’s frustration. Two months at sea—­first in a small skiff that delivered them from Veracruz in the black of night, then in a packet ship that stopped at Santo Domingo, followed by the very freighter they had just disembarked—­ had tested all of their resilience. Having been raised in wealth and relative ease, the sisters had struggled to share one small cabin, their sleep often interrupted by cries of alarm when the ship lurched and wobbled on the waves. Packed away were their extravagant day dresses and ball gowns, replaced by unassuming gray and brown calico and wool skirts. While unattractive, the simple dresses had kept them warm the farther the ship sailed north into the Atlantic.

But more so than trading in their affluence for anonymity, it was the forced proximity that had proved the most trying for the sisters. For they were not close. Constantly competing for scraps of affection and attention from their father had made them more antagonists than bosom friends, and the long journey had done little to soften the edges of their animosity for one another.

That their uncle was late to collect them after such an arduous journey was a sour conclusion instead of a promising beginning.

Biting back a sigh, Ana María laid a hand on Gabby’s arm. “He should be here, but he’s not. So I’m going to speak with the captain about hiring a carriage or hansom to deliver us to him instead.”

“That’s a good idea.” Gabby tilted her head. “Would you like me to go with you?”

“No,” she blurted, pressing her lips together as her sister narrowed her eyes. “I would rather you stay with Isabel. You know how taxing the voyage was on her.”

They turned in tandem to where their sister sat among the stacks of their luggage, a book spread open in her lap. Her normally rich golden skin was drawn, and dark circles made her brown eyes appear sunken and hollow. The lurch and roll of the sea had caused Isabel to spend days on end huddled in their sparse cabin, sick and miserable, and they’d been shaken to see their poised sister so listless.

“Even at her sickest, she wanted to read a book.” Snorting, Gabby shook her head. “I’ll never understand it.”

“They’re her escape.”

As the studious, bluestocking sister, Isabel had shown herself to be happy only when surrounded by the written word. She had insisted on bringing a satchel full of books with her on the voyage, something that had initially annoyed Ana María, for their quarters were tight. Yet Isabel’s collection had come to entertain them these long days at sea.

And though she would never admit it, Ana María had long resented the refuge books granted Isabel. As the eldest, Ana María had been held to completely different edicts than either of her sisters.

Ana María blinked such thoughts away. She had committed herself to leaving her old grudges—­and unrelenting bitterness— ­on Mexico’s shores. This was her chance to truly know her sisters and improve their relationships in ways their father had worked to undermine.

“I suppose I’ll go wait with Isabel, then.” Gabby sighed. “Reading one of her books is better than pacing the dock.”

Ana María watched as her temperamental sister plopped down on a trunk next to Isabel. Pivoting, she glanced up the road again, willing her uncle’s conveyance to rumble into view. She was not surprised when it did not happen.

Nibbling on the inside of her cheek, Ana María darted her gaze about as she pondered what to do next. There were a few hansom cabs parked along the docks not far away, but she hesitated. She had a hastily scribbled address for their tío Arturo in her reticule, information she had stumbled upon quite by accident when she had been rifling through the post one sunny morning. Ana María had recorded the direction, determined she and her sisters would not be dependent upon their father to convey them to safety.

It would appear she had been wise to do so.

Lifting her chin, Ana María darted her gaze to and fro in search of the captain. The older gentleman had been polite to them throughout the voyage, often asking after their health and offering them a cordial greeting. Ana María hoped a bit of that courtesy would make him willing to assist her now.

A gust of wind whipped off the sea then, and she fought back a shiver. A deep wave of homesickness engulfed her, and she blinked back tears. Ana María missed the warm sun on her skin, the taste of a tortilla fresh off the comal, the soft melodies her tía Susana coaxed from her guitarra on balmy summer nights. She ached for the feel of her mother’s fingers threading through her hair, her nails scouring her scalp and soothing her anxieties.

Biting her lip, Ana María could admit now, with time and distance away from Mexico, that she even missed Fernando, her...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: Penguin Publishing Group
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2023
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 0593440889
• ISBN 13: 9780593440889
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 352
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: gpsr@libri.de; gpsr@libri.de; ; Friedensallee 273; Hamburg; 22763; Deutschland