ARC Review: When You Wish Upon A Rogue (Debutante Diaries 3) by Anna Bennett

Title: When You Wish Upon A Rogue

         The Debutant Diaries 3

Author: Anna Bennett

Release Date: May 26, 2020 (ARC Version)

Published By: St. Martin’s Press

Category: Historical– Romance – Regency

Type: Digital – Paperback – Audio

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Anna Bennett Website

Blurb: 

She knows what she wants.

Miss Sophie Kendall is happiest arranging the secret meetings of the Debutante Underground, a group of women who come together to discuss the weekly advice column The Debutante’s Revenge. What makes Sophie most unhappy is her impending march down the aisle to a man she does not love. But her family’s finances are in increasingly dire straits.

He makes an offer she can’t refuse.

Henry Reese, Earl of Warshire, hasn’t slept in weeks. Desperate to escape his manor house and its haunting memories, he heads for one of his abandoned London properties. There he meets a beautiful, intriguing woman—trespassing. Reese is far less interested in Sophie’s search for a secret meeting spot than he is in her surprising ability to soothe his demons. So he strikes a bargain with her: his shop in exchange for spending one night a week with him.

Is this love for real—or just a dream?

Sophie never expected this to happen. But she cannot deny the fire Reese sparks in her—and soon their shared desire burns bright. Sophie is irrevocably promised to another. But maybe these two ill-fated lovers can find a way to risk it all—all the way to happily ever after…

 By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age.

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Favorite Lines:

“Sophie Kendall,” he began. “You are mysterious to me as a mermaid and as necessary as the sun. You are everything I’d hoped for and more than I deserve.”  ~  Reese

“To be perfectly clear,” he drawled, “you are welcome in my bedchamber anytime you like. And you may do whatever you like there. Anything you like.”  ~  Reese

Excerpt:

          He cleared his throat, leaned back, and stretched his legs. “As I was saying, you’re welcome to inspect the shop if you’re curious.”
          She shook her head and straightened her spine. “I’ve seen enough. Your building will suit my purposes perfectly.”
          Reese chuckled. “I’m afraid this place isn’t available to let.”
          Miss Kendall’s face crumpled. “Why not?”
          “As I’ve already explained,” he said slowly, “I use it.”
          “But you haven’t even heard me out,” she countered. “I only require the use of the room one evening each week—and I’m willing to pay a fair sum.”
          “How much?”Lord knew he could use the money, but the real reason he asked was because the amount she offered would provide a useful measuring stick. Give him an idea of how badly she wanted to rent the space—and what she could afford. 
          She paused, probably unaware that her forehead crinkled. “What do you think would be reasonable?”
          The slight tremor in her voice said she was just shy of desperate—and that her coffers were nowhere near full. But she wanted to know his price. 
          He rubbed the stubble on his chin, idly wondering when he’d last shaved. When one rarely slept, the days melted together like pats of butter on a hot skillet. “If I were willing to let out my building for one evening a week—which I’ve already indicated I’m not—I’d have to charge ten pounds.”
          “Per month?” she asked hopefully. 
          “Per week.”
          “I see.”For an interminable, golden moment, she searched his face, then stood regretfully. “If I thought you might reconsider, I might attempt to negotiate, but I can see that you’re quite . . .” She paused, searching for a word. 
          “Pigheaded?” he provided. “Mulish?”
          The grim line of her mouth softened into a half smile. “I was going to say ‘adamant.’”
          “Of course you were,” he said smoothly. “But pigheaded fits better.”
          “Thank you for your time.” Her eyes shone with a kindness that was damned disconcerting. Especially since he hadn’t been particularly charming. In the short time since she’d arrived, he’d done nothing but swill brandy, behave like a boor, and crush her dream of renting his building. To top everything off, he must look like he’d staggered out of a pub just before closing time. His dragged a hand through his hair, which was already standing on end. And he had no bloody idea where he’d left his jacket or cravat. 
          He supposed he should say something gracious, maybe walk her to the door. But he didn’t want her to go. Didn’t want to be alone with his dark thoughts and insidious visions. So he continued to sit there morosely, the portrait of an arse. 
          She took a step toward the door, then turned back. “May I ask you something else?”
          He shrugged as though he were indifferent. But on the inside, he was more like a stray dog, embarrassingly starved for a scrap of attention or compassion. “Ask away.”
          She tilted her head and frowned. “When was the last time you slept?”
          “Last night,” he answered reflexively. It was true enough—he’d drifted off on the sofa in his study for nearly an hour before bolting upright, drenched in sweat and shaking like he’d gone for a midwinter swim in the Thames. Afterward he’d immediately vowed to avoid shutting his eyes again for at least a week. 
          She leveled an assessing gaze in his direction before asking, “How long did you sleep?”
          He thrust himself out of the chair, crossed his arms, and paced the ancient wood floor in front of the counter. “I don’t see why that’s any of your concern, Miss Kendall.”
          “You’re right,” she replied—with more gentleness than he deserved. “It wasn’t my intention to pry. But my mother is prone to sleeplessness, and I recognized some of the signs.”
          He muttered a curse. Why should he give a damn that this young woman, a complete stranger to him, had just lumped him in the same category with her dear mama? “And what are the telltale signs?” he asked, his tone dry as dust. “What gave me away?”
          To her credit, she didn’t shrink in the least. “The shadows beneath your eyes, the slight tremor of your hands, and a general state of . . .”She hesitated, again perusing her mind for the correct word. 
          “Irritability?” he offered. “Cantankerousness?”
          “I was going to say ‘anxiousness,’”but your suggestions are also apropos.”Her words might have stung, if not for the playful twinkle in her eyes. A bit more soberly she added, “A lack of sleep can take its toll on a person.”
          He shrugged as though he had only the vaguest sense of what she was talking about. As if his life weren’t a wasteland of paralysis and remorse. The last thing he wanted from Miss Kendall was pity. 
          She pursed her lips in consternation, then looked up at him and beamed. Her wide, genuine smile was almost blinding, and he recoiled from the unexpected brilliance like a man emerging from a dark cave at high noon. 
          Oblivious to the effect she had on him, she began rummaging through her reticule. “I may have something in here that will help.”At last, she withdrew a small pouch and held it up, triumphant. “Here we are.”
         “What is that?” he asked, not bothering to hide his cynicism. 
          She held the herbs an inch below her nose and closed her eyes as she inhaled deeply. “Valerian root for your tea. It’s a remedy for sleeplessness.”She naïvely thrust the dainty muslin pouch into his hands like it was the antidote to all that ailed him. She couldn’t possibly know that he was way beyond help—so far beyond it that he might as well have been in another realm. 
          Reese sniffed the herbs and found them pleasantly earthy and fragrant. Idly wondered whether Miss Kendall’s skin would smell the same and simultaneously chastised himself for the errant thought. 
          “I don’t drink tea,” he said curtly, handing the pouch back to her. 
          She looked appropriately appalled. “Well then,” she said slowly as if still coming to grips with this diabolical confession, “I suppose you could sprinkle some in your soup.”She held out the pouch with a brooking-no-argument expression. The same stern face his own nanny had used when she expected him to swallow a spoonful of castor oil—except that Miss Kendall was approximately one hundred times more lovely. 
          “I appreciate your concern.”He shoved his hands in his pockets so she couldn’t force the bloody herbs into his palms again. “However, I have no use for quackery.”
          She narrowed her eyes at that—as if he’d issued a challenge. She tucked the pouch under her elbow and began tugging at the fingers of her gloves, pulling them off. The sight conjured all sorts of wicked thoughts, which only proved how demented he was. 
          “Have you a kitchen, Mr. Peabody?” she asked briskly. 
          Reese blinked. “Here? No. There’s a small stove in the back room.”
          “That will do,” she said brightly. 
          He trailed after her as she strode past him, toward the room in the rear of the shop where he’d been lurking before she’d arrived. He’d lit a fire in the stove a few hours earlier, and when Miss Kendall spotted a kettle on a shelf above it, she turned toward him and arched a mildly accusatory brow. 
          “I don’t use it,” he said. 
          She continued to stare at him while she lifted the kettle and smiled smugly when she felt water sloshing inside. 
          “I rarely use it,” he amended, shrugging.

Highlight:

         Sophie found her way back to her bedchamber, opened a chest at the foot of the four-poster, and pulled out two thick quilts. She traipsed down the stairs, glided through the ballroom, and rushed out onto the terrace, slightly breathless. 
          But Reese wasn’t in the spot where she’d left him. 
          Her belly twisted and her heart lurched. She shouldn’t have left him alone, not when he was so clearly exhausted and distressed. She dropped the quilts, cupped her hands around her mouth, and was about to call out his name when she spotted him, a few yards away. 
          He sat on a marble bench at the edge of the terrace, holding a bouquet of silvery, starlike flowers—asphodels. 
          “What are those for?” she asked. 
          “You’ll see.” He shot her an enigmatic smile and gestured toward the quilts heaped at her feet. “What are those for?” he echoed. 
          She scooped up the blankets and gave him a saucy smirk. “Follow me.”
          They left the lantern behind and relied solely on the glimmer of the moon and stars as they tramped across the lawn. For Reese’s sake, Sophie wanted to put some distance between them and the house. 
          Maybe, if the conditions were right, she could coax him to sleep. 
          She wandered down a hill toward a copse of birch trees and stopped beneath the largest. She turned slowly, assessing the area. A balmy breeze rustled the leaves overhead, and a mattress of soft, fragrant grass tickled the tops of her feet. The house had all but disappeared from view, and nature surrounded them in a comforting cocoon. 
          “This is perfect,” she said. “Will you help me spread out these quilts?”
          He cast her a quizzical look but set down the flowers. Careful to avoid touching her, he took one side of a blanket, pinched the corners, and lifted it, letting it billow to the ground. They repeated the process for the second quilt, placing it a few inches from the first. 
          Sophie waved a hand at the blankets. “These shall be our beds tonight,” she announced, kicking off her slippers and sitting in the center of one of the colorful patchwork quilts. 
          Reese’s face was unreadable as he sat on the other blanket and faced her. “Have you ever slept outdoors before?”
          She tapped a finger to her lips as she considered the question. “I have napped outside. Does that count?”
          He picked up one of the asphodel flowers and tentatively plucked a few leaves off the stem. “I suppose so.”
          “Have you slept outside before? All night, that is?”
          He nodded soberly. “I have. Many times.”
          “Do you enjoy it?” she probed. 
          Silence stretched out between them, and Reese suddenly seemed miles away. 
          She leaned closer, straining to see his face in the darkness. “Reese?”Maybe it had been foolish of her to bring him here. Perhaps she was only making matters worse. 
          He shook his head and frowned at the flower in his hand as though he’d forgotten he held it. “Forgive me,” he said, his voice rusty and raw. “I was thinking about the last time I slept outside. It was during my time on the front lines in Portugal, and I was surrounded by fellow soldiers. We were cold and filthy, and our stomachs growled all night. But to answer your question—yes. In spite of all that, I did enjoy sleeping outside.”
          Sophie closed her eyes briefly, trying to imagine a fraction of the horrors he must have endured. Her mouth went dry. “I didn’t know you were a soldier.”
          “Major in the 41st Foot,” he said, dragging a hand down his face. “I bought my commission eight years ago and fought up until the day I received word about my brother. The next day, I left my regiment to come home.”
          She waited to see if he’d say more . . . but he didn’t. Still, it was a start. In the few snippets he’d shared with her, he’d sounded both proud and melancholy. Dedicated and defeated. 
          “I’m sorry,” she said earnestly. “About your brother . . . and about having to leave your company.”
          His gaze snapped to hers. “You’re the first person who’s said that you’re sorry about me leaving the infantry,” he said hoarsely. “Everyone assumes I’m grieving for my brother—and God knows I am. But no one seems to understand that I never wanted to come home. That I don’t belong here.”
          Sophie’s throat grew tight. “Reese. Things must feel strange right now. All of this”—she waved a hand in the direction of the house, hoping he understood she was talking about the title, the estate, and all it entailed—“is new to you. But you’re not alone.”
          “I left all my friends behind,” he said, his voice steeped in shame. 
          “You must have some family or friends here in London.”She prayed he wasn’t entirely alone. 
          “Just my valet, Gordon,” he said flatly. “He’s the only one I trust.”
          “It may take a while for me to prove it to you,” Sophie said deliberately, “but you can trust me—and count me as a friend.”
          A flicker of relief and hope flashed in his eyes. “You can trust me too,” he said, before turning his attention back to the flowers. One by one, he knotted and clumsily wove together the stems of at least a dozen of the delicate, lavender-gray blossoms. 
          “Are you going to tell me what you’re making?” she teased. 
          “I should think it would be obvious.”He held up a disjointed circle of squished petals, bent stalks, and wilted leaves. “It’s a flower crown.”With uncharacteristic, endearing shyness, he added, “for you.”
          “Oh,” Sophie breathed. No one had ever made her a flower crown before, and she couldn’t have loved it more if it were a diamond tiara. “It’s lovely.”
          “It’s my first attempt,” he said with a chuckle. “And probably my last. But I’m glad if you like it.”
          “I adore it,” she confirmed. 
          “Then it’s time for your coronation.”He moved closer to the edge of his quilt, assumed an appropriately serious expression, and propped an elbow on his bent knee. She scooted closer to the edge of her blanket, her legs bent to the side, and looked up at him, expectant. Only a few inches separated them, and her body thrummed with awareness of nature, the night, and him. 
          He cleared his throat and let his gaze sweep across the landscape—the lawn, the garden, the woods, and the dark violet horizon beyond. “Loyal subjects,” he began in his deep, rich voice. “I hereby present to you Miss Sophie Kendall, your undoubted Queen.”
          She smiled at that, but his expression remained serious as he looked directly into her eyes. “Will you solemnly swear to preside over the grass, trees, and flowers?”
          Because it seemed like the appropriate thing to do, Sophie raised her right hand. “I do so solemnly promise.”
          Reese lifted the flower crown from his lap and held it an inch above her head. “Then I pronounce you the queen of all you survey.”Reverently, he let it drop onto her head. “God save the Queen,” he said softly. 
          The tree boughs above them shook in the warm breeze, and a chorus of insects chirped enthusiastically. A delicious shiver stole over Sophie’s skin, and she knew she’d forever remember the moment Reese proclaimed her queen of his garden . . . Queen of the Underworld. 
          “Thank you,”she said, sitting back and stretching her legs across the quilt. “Are you ready for my first royal edict?”
          He shot her a lopsided grin. “Probably not.”

Review: 

Sophie has never felt like she has found her true calling. She is extraordinarily gifted with plants of all varieties, but she feels there is something else she should be doing. Sure, as part of the trio that makes up the Debutante’s Revenge, she aids in pairing the perfect drawings with the words written for each column. But it isn’t until she starts the Debutante Underground – a non-judgmental space where fans of the column can come together to discuss the weekly paragraphs of advice - that she begins to feel like she has purpose. Having outgrown their small space, Sophie is in search of a new place to use for their secret meetings. When she bumps into Reese, she finds a new calling of sorts and before too long strikes up a bargain with him that quickly has her entire being – heart, body, and soul on the line. Despite Sophie’s yearning for the troubled Earl, she is plagued with the burden of responsibility to dig her family out of a deep hole. Sophie has to marry one not of her choosing despite her heart belonging to Reese or risk her family’s ruin. Never mind that the ruin is not of her doing in any way. Ever the dutiful daughter, she will bear her burden with her shoulders held high no matter how much she wishes she could abandon her fate for her own happiness with Reese. Consequently, she determines to take what she can until her life is no longer her own.

Reese is having none of it. Sophie unexpectedly appeared in his life and brings a sense of calm where heretofore only demons and darkness raged. He struggles when she is away but focuses on their next meeting and the tasks she outlines for his beguiling garden. He was playing dirty when he lured her in with the unkempt thing, overrun by weeds and years of neglect, but he knew her love of nature and took a chance with which to lure her into his bargain. Now that he’s got her, he isn’t sure he can ever let her go. Losing her means succumbing to the demons within once again. It will be a point of no return if he is drawn back into the horrific gloom; an oppression he won’t be able to claw back from once consumed. Anxious to keep her from the clutches of another, even knowing she could do better than himself, he places his trust in their love. Knowing that allowing her to walk away might be the worst decision ever, he permits it, having no other choice at the time. When a threat to Sophie unexpectedly rears its ugly head, it turns out to be the Hail Mary he was desperately seeking and could be the one thing that allows him to make Sophie his in every possible way. Forever. But first, he will have to enlist a bit of aid from a couple of mischievous, former debutantes.

I know that this series is meant to be a trilogy … but please allow another book. I have no idea how it could occur – possibly through Delilah in the subsequent story – but I would love more time with these fantastic characters! I don’t want it to be over! Ms. Bennett has created a world in which a reader can happily and willingly immerse themselves into. A theme that carried over from book to book was the troubled, nearly broken, brooding men who lacked only the love of a fiercely loyal woman, entrusted to protect their hearts. While the men are dark and afflicted with their own personal tragedy, the women are their polar opposites – bright, accepting, and healing with their optimistic views, assessing the world in ways completely different from their men who have nearly been undone by it. The case was the same in this book. But rather than Sophie repairing Reese’s damage, Reese equally repaired Sophie’s pains and insecurities. Each allows the other to embrace who they truly are, growing to their full potential and never condemning one another for past misdeeds. I adored how Ms. Bennett acknowledged PTSD in a time where nothing of the sort was recognized and certainly not spoken aloud. Likewise, how Sophie's talented green thumb is instrumental in initially bringing Reese around. Ms. Bennett played to Sophie’s strengths that we saw in each of the previous books even though Sophie herself had yet to identify such traits as empowering. Reese, true to form, believes he is no good for Sophie and could never give her the life she deserves. But Reese is a bit quicker on the uptake than in the previous installments in the series. He recognizes his need for Sophie rather early on and isn’t afraid to express it. She is the one who balks despite confirming her own affection, given the dire state of her family’s affairs. Also wonderfully constructed was Reese’s garden which Sophie soon discovers to be a tribute of sorts to the Underworld. I wish I could see something like this in real life. It was an absolutely marvelous addition and appropriate given Sophie’s entanglement with her own Underground and the darkness Reece is desperately trying to escape.

I would like to point out that Sophie being forced to dig her family out of their appalling situation is utter bollocks. Not to mention it would have been a temporary fix given her father’s habits. Sell your soul and end up right back where you started or worse. *sigh* That was my estimation of the inexcusable situation. And I get her sister being sickly, but dang did I ever want to slap that entitled brat’s face right off the pages. Good grief! However, I absolutely loved the outcome of everything once it was all said and done. Well played, yet again Ms. Bennett. And what’s a Debutante Diary book without more from the fabulous debutantes? Things have been progressing nicely with the column and the trio of friends have been quite accustomed to their routine of sketching, advising, and pairing together in secret. With the addition of the Underground, they also have insight into the thoughts and feedback of their readers as well as what advice they want to hear next. With Sophie’s identity protected, she is free to bring the musings back to Fiona and Lily each week. But the column has been a source of controversy lately. While this isn’t specifically anything new to the women, some naysayers are now speaking of leading a revolt of sorts to end the column once and for all. The question then remains as to how to respond. Reply in a way in which to head off controversy or embrace it and effectively tell the opposers to kick rocks. And might I say their response is nothing short of brilliant!

Getting to revisit with the previous cast was especially appreciated as I had formed an attachment to them all. I particularly loved the mention of Lily’s desk – “a gift from her besotted Duke” – as it immediately took me back to the scene in which she was gifted said desk. 😉 If the sensuality in the first two books was blazing, this latest addition will put them both to shame. Sophie insists on a no contact rule, knowing her power to resist Reese will crumble with the slightest touch. Understanding exactly her intent because he is very much in the same boat, they get a bit creative with their “contact”. Be prepared for some steamy sensual encounters. *fans self* If this is to be my last encounter with the delightful debutantes I have come to adore, then the series couldn’t have ended any better. Ms. Bennett keeps the engagement flowing from start to finish in all the books, not just this one. Never stalling, always in motion. The clever wit and relatable characters bring this series to life in a most appealing way. And through it all the same theme remains. Family is what we make of it whether through friendship, blood, or love. No matter what you endure in life – whether joyous or gut-wrenching – that kind of family can always be counted on to share your successes and failures, to support you no matter what the circumstances, and to always be there through thick and thin. Above all, Fiona, Lily and Sophie created a family just as described, which later extended to include Gray, Nash, and Reese. Love will always prevail. Those who treasure Historical HEAs are sure to become enchanted with these inspiring characters in no time at all. Packed full of brooding males, inspiring women, twists and turns, and scorching hot romantic interludes, I know I was. I only wish I had more time to spend within the series of the insightful (if a bit wicked) Debutante Diaries.

Kindle version provided by NetGalley/St. Martin’s Press in exchange for an honest review.