When not writing, poet Edward Astley, Viscount Featherfinch, spends his time fending off the young ladies of the ton—and some of its young men—and avoiding his cruel father. As heir to the earldom, Edward knows he must marry someday. Alas, he is already hopelessly in love with someone. Hopeless because not only is Miss Julianna Evans not a member of the aristocracy, she is employed. She is a magazine editor—the only one to publish his work. Also, in all their years of increasingly personal correspondence, they've never met.
Also, she thinks he's a woman. Named Euphemia.
Julianna is baffled. How can her soul mate not want to meet? Could it be that Euphemia is not the simple country girl she claims to be? Perhaps she's wealthy. After all, she's never cashed any of the bank drafts Julianna has sent. Perhaps Euphemia simply doesn't want rank to come between them. Well, no more. Having extracted the details of a trip Euphemia is planning, Julianna squanders her meager savings and surprises her at the scene.
He is very, very surprised. As is she.
Now the two will have to decide what is true, what is not, and whether the truest thing of all—love—just might be worth an earldom . . .
