Book Series: The Spinster Heiresses

The Duke That I Marry

Once upon a time there were three young ladies, who, despite their fortunes, had been on the marriage mart a bit too long. They were known as “the Spinster Heiresses” . . .

Is it wrong for a woman to want more?

Not if she is a Spinster Heiress. They do not settle. Any young miss would be very lucky to find herself promised to a man like the Duke of Camberly. However, Miss Willa Reverly has watched her friends marry for love. Camberly may be the prize of the season, but she will not be “sold” to any man. She wants his devotion or she wants nothing at all.

When is a Marriage of Convenience inconvenient?

Newly named to the ducal title, Matthew Addison is determined to discover the secrets behind Mayfield, the bankrupt estate he has inherited. He doesn’t have time to coddle a headstrong heiress who is determined to ditch him over something as silly as “love.” Little does he know that his questions will place her in jeopardy. Now he must do what he must to save them both.

Could it be that in running from danger they might be racing headlong into a truly unexpected fate: falling in love?

AVON Books | Paperback | eBook | Audio

Publisher: Avon
November 27, 2018

Spinster Heiresses
Book Three
ISBN-13: 978-0062655783
ISBN-10: 0062655787

By Cathy Maxwell

An excerpt . . .

The day before the wedding, Matthew Addison, Duke of Camberly receives a terse message from his intended Willa Reverly. Granted he’d been dragging his heels about the wedding, no one jilts a duke . . . well, except for the surprisingly headstrong Miss Reverly–

The trip to London had not been an easy one. The overcast day had given way to rain and mist, and the only horse available to Matt from Mayfield’s stables had been a difficult mare with her own mind. Matt and the blasted animal had argued from the moment he’d left his stable door until the reins had been turned over to a street lad to keep the mare walking to cool her down.

So Matt was not in a conciliatory mood.

Especially toward females.

He had also not bothered to stop at his London home to change. He wasn’t afraid to let Miss Reverly see him in his mud-splashed boots and breeches. Let her know that he had taken her letter seriously.

And he had.

Her terse wording was branded in his mind: We are not suited. I am releasing you of any obligation to me. Sincerely, W. Reverly.

What was she, a solicitor? She was releasing him with two sentences?

Miss Reverly’s curtness was not how a woman should write to a man to whom she’d been promised. She hadn’t minced words but had been clear she was willing to mince him.

The closer he’d come to London, the more he’d wanted to know why. What had he done to set her off? He hadn’t even been in London since the evening of their betrothal party.

And now here he was cooling his heels in Reverly’s palatial London home that spoke of money and power. All the furniture was gilt-painted wood. There wasn’t a worn carpet or threadbare pillow in sight. The air was scented with beeswax and the room showed the meticulous care of dozens of well-paid servants.

Gracing the walls were as many paintings as could be found in any stately house. A few were of landscapes or good horseflesh. Most were portraits, although Matt doubted if any were of Reverly’s ancestors. The man had supposedly come from humble roots, worked hard, and married well.

Matt suspected some of those paintings could have been those sold from Mayfield. Reverly was known to have a fondness for a bargain. He’d turn any agreement in his favor. “Greedy as a fox,” one lord had warned Matt.

Well, God willing, the man would be his father-in-law.

Matt paced the length of the receiving room, struggling with his pride and temper and considering how best to approach the rebellious Miss Reverly.

Someplace in the house, footsteps could be heard. A clock chimed the hour. Late afternoon. He’d made good time from Mayfield.

A footman had taken his greatcoat and hat. However, his hair was damp. He combed it back from his face with his fingers just as he heard voices, feminine ones. He squared off with the closed double doors.

One half opened—and Miss Reverly seemed to float into the room.

For a moment, he was caught off guard. He’d forgotten how graceful she was. She reminded him of a petite opera dancer. Perfectly formed, no movement wasted, comfortable in her own skin.

And lovely. Far prettier than he remembered.

Four months ago, Matt had still been preoccupied with thoughts of Letty. Now, he was struck by what he hadn’t noticed about his intended.

Yes, Willa Reverly was a mite of a thing . . . but there was something about her presence that made her seem taller and stronger than her size indicated. Dark, thick hair and clear skin made her conventionally pretty. What set her apart was the intelligence in her snapping blue eyes and the determination in her attitude.

For the first time, Matt realized perhaps one shouldn’t underestimate an heiress.

She was not alone. To his surprise, Cassandra, Soren’s wife, was with her. Any other time he’d be delighted to see her because this meant his good friend was in town.

However, now he struggled not to frown. He had no desire to have an audience for this interview. At least he liked Cassandra. Soren had chosen well. And yet, there was nothing he could do about the matter of her presence but play his part.

“Your Grace.” Miss Reverly made the barest of curtseys.

He returned with the barest of ducal bows. They were as formal as strangers.

“Miss Reverly, you could put a garden full of flowers to shame.” One thing Matt had learned about London ladies, they lapped up this nonsense. He truly believed it was impossible to overflatter one of them.

Willa Reverly disputed his theory. Annoyance and, yes, disappointment crossed her face. “One should expect a better compliment from a poet.”

So much for pleasantries . . . and his assumption that Willa was like all London ladies.

Riding had given Matt time to think and face some hard truths about himself. He had taken her sizable dowry for granted.

His sojourn in the country? Yes, it was true that Letty had broken his heart, except that, to be honest, he’d latched on to her because being named Camberly had been overwhelming. He’d never imagined he’d take on the title, even after his uncle had died. He’d naïvely assumed his grandfather would live forever. The old man must have thought the same or else he would have helped Matt become better prepared.

However, a blackmailer and a sharp-tongued heiress were waking Matt up.

Unfortunately, he was not liking Miss Reverly very much.

Perhaps because she was right? He hadn’t given much thought to her. Guilty as charged?

He turned his attention to Cassandra. “How are you, Lady Dewsberry? Married life appears to suit you.”

“It pleases me very well, Your Grace,” she replied smoothly, with enough of a twinkle in her eye that he knew Willa had confided in her about the note.

Did that mean Willa had also spoken to her father? Perhaps Leland Reverly was even behind the message? If that was the case, there would be no dowry.

Keeping his smile determinedly fixed on his face, Matt said to Willa, “May we sit and talk?”

“I have said all I wish to say,” was her rude reply.

“And yet, I apparently have much to explain.” His voice sounded genial, but tight. It was the best he could manage.

“Why, Your Grace, I have no interest in hearing explanations.”

She delivered her insults with a sweet, false smile, the sort of smile that meant she was furious with him—and that was good. Women never had strong emotions for things that didn’t matter to them. His sisters had taught him that.

The time had come for him to take command.

To Cassandra, he said, “Would you excuse us, my lady? Miss Reverly and I require a private moment.”

“Don’t you leave this room, Cassandra,” Miss Reverly countermanded. “My guests are not to be dismissed.”

“Not even to discuss an issue of importance between us?” Matt asked. He attempted to sound polite. Instead, he came off testy.

“I’ve reached my decision. There is nothing to discuss.”

My decision. Interesting, and hopeful. Her father might not be aware of what she’d done. “I ask that you hear me out.”

“Your Grace, you may talk, but I will not listen.”

“Then perhaps I should discuss this with your father?”

Her shoulders came back, her chin forward. “He has nothing to say to you.”

“Then our conversation will be brief. I will have your butler ask him to join us.” Matt took a step toward the door.

She stepped in his path. “He is not at home.”

“He doesn’t know about your letter, does he?”

Miss Reverly looked to Cassandra, who had an I-warned-you expression on her face. Matt decided the time was right to repeat his earlier request. “Lady Dewsberry, I wish a word with Miss Reverly.”

“Yes, I believe that would be wise.”

“Cassandra, don’t leave.”

Her friend was already to the door. “I must, Willa. This is really between you and His Grace. My husband has taught me there are some conversations that should be private. But, please, give him a chance. Like women, men often do foolish things.” She gave Matt a considering look and then shrugged her shoulders. “He might make a decent husband in the long run.”

“Long run?” Miss Reverly echoed, her brows rising as if she couldn’t imagine such a thing.

“It all depends on how quick he is to train. No husband is perfect,” Cassandra allowed, and then added, conspiratorially, “If all else fails, the offer of our hospitality is still open. We will have the coach ready at midnight.” With those words, she left the room, closing the door behind her.

“The coach ready at midnight?” Matt repeated, intrigued.

“You would not understand,” Miss Reverly said dismissively. As if she was the queen of Sheba, she moved to the middle of the room and sat on one of the many brocade upholstered settees. “Speak your piece, Your Grace. Let us hurry through this. I have plans for the evening.”


Publisher:    Avon

Series Book:  Two

ISBN-13:  978-0062655769

ISBN-10:  0062655760


A Match Made In Bed

Once upon a time there were three young ladies, who, despite their fortunes, had been on the marriage mart a bit too long. They were known as “the Spinster Heiresses” . . .

Miss Cassandra Holwell is too tall, too bookish, and too smart—but she does have money and a father who wants a grand title for her. Cassandra hasn’t felt a desire to marry until she meets the sinfully handsome Duke of Camberly, who captures her imagination . . . until Soren York, Earl of Dewsberry and her family’s sworn enemy, steps in the way.

The Holwells ruined Soren’s family, and he’s lived on the knife’s edge trying to resurrect their fortunes . . . until he considers marrying the Holwell Heiress. Not only would her dowry give him the funds he needs, he has secretly had an eye on the independent-minded bluestocking since they both first realized the differences between men and women.

She likes to read; he has no patience for books. She knows little of sex; he is a man of the world and willing to school her. Her family destroyed his; his offer of marriage may be her only salvation.

Now Cassandra and Soren must learn to love each other for who they are, not what they are—and the lessons are becoming an exercise in absolute pleasure.

AVON Books | Paperback | eBook | Audio



Publisher: Avon
April 17, 2018

Spinster Heiresses
Book Two
ISBN-13: 978-0062655769
ISBN-10: 0062655760


If Ever I Should Love You

Once upon a time there were three young ladies, who, despite their fortunes, had been on the marriage mart a bit too long. They were known as “the Spinster Heiresses” . . .

He’s inherited a title, but not a penny to speak of, so the Earl of Rochdale knows he must find a wife—preferably one tolerably pretty and good-tempered, but definitely wealthy, and who will exchange her fortune for his family name.

His choice: Leonie Charnock, one of the season’s “Spinster Heiresses.” Years before, the earl had saved the dark-eyed beauty’s reputation and she is still breathtakingly lovely, leading Rochdale to hope that their marriage will be more than in name only.

However, Leonie doesn’t want to be anyone’s wife. Nearly destroyed by the secrets in her past, Leonie agrees to their union with one condition: there will be a wedding but no bedding. But it’s a condition the new Countess Rochdale isn’t sure even she can keep.

AVON Books | Paperback | eBook |Audio
Spinster Heiresses # 1

Publisher: Avon
December 26, 2017

Spinster Heiresses
Book One
ISBN-13: 978-0062655745
ISBN-10: 0062655744

By Cathy Maxwell

(Roman asks Leonie for a dance to renew their acquaintance.)

Leonie made a sound of frustration. “I’m here for the same reason everyone is—my parents. They have been plotting for me to marry well since I was in the cradle. It is the only thing the two of them can agree upon. They wouldn’t hear me if I told them what I wanted. Fortunately, last year, I was jilted by a duke. That has made me ‘used’ goods in some people’s eyes.” She thought of Camberly. “Of course, my parents might still try to make me a duchess and then I would be forced to suffer through it all until he was bored with me.”


Leonie met his quizzical gaze. “You know what I mean. That man thing.”
“That ‘man thing’?” he repeated. “No, I don’t understand. And how can you wish to suffer through life?”

“That ‘man thing’?” he repeated. “No, I don’t understand.” But she knew he did.  “And how can you wish to suffer through life?” he continued.

She blew out her breath in exasperation. “I don’t wish to suffer through life. Which is the reason I don’t wish to marry. I want something more from my life.” And she wanted to be in control of what that was.

He considered her a moment. “So, you would marry Camberly?”

Leonie crossed her arms. “I suppose I would. Then I’d be a duchess.”

“Is that what you want from your life?”

“It is what my parents wish.”

“Camberly has a man thing.”

His statement caught her off guard. “What?” Was he mocking her?

He appeared completely serious, even as he said, “You said you didn’t want a man thing and I pointed out that Camberly has a man thing. At least, I believe he does. I don’t know that for a fact, however, most men have a man thing.”

“More the pity,” she snapped.

“Yes, but you said you were open to a ducal man thing, but how do you know an earl man thing wouldn’t be better?”

“Because one belongs to a duke.”

“But what if the duke doesn’t know what to do with his man thing? Is that what you meant by suffering through life?”

Leonie would have dearly loved to slap him again, except her wrist still hurt from the last one. “I don’t find you amusing.”

He shrugged, the picture of reasonableness. “You are the one who brought up the subject of man things.”

She felt her jaw tighten. “I wasn’t talking about what I think you are talking about.”

“Then what were you talking about?”

Leonie could have screamed. Now she remembered why she had favored Arthur Paccard over Roman. Arthur had been courtly and light. Roman had been serious and had on occasion let her know he believed her immature. His verdict had angered her. Even at seventeen she had known her own mind . . . and she didn’t like being told she didn’t.

Then again, Leonie had never been so happy to see someone as she had Roman when he’d come upon her and Arthur. He’d been a savior.
She changed the subject. “Do you wish that dance or not?”

“Will you accept my marriage offer?”

“You are astounding. I’ve done my best to be as kind as possible, my lord. However, you leave me no choice other than to be blunt–”

“I’ve always appreciated your bluntness more than your kindness, Miss Charnock,” he interjected, matching her formality.

She could have boxed his ears. He was deliberately making this difficult. She decided to move on with it. “Thank you for your offer but I will not marry you.”

He appeared far from disheartened. Instead of saying the usual proper words to gracefully accept a rejection, he said, “Oh, you will marry me. You owe me, Leonie. I lied for you once. It cost me my military career. It turns out they don’t take kindly to officers shooting each other, even in affairs of honor. The time has come to pay up. I need your dowry.”

The stab of disappointment confused her. She knew her dowry was all any of them, including Camberly, wanted. However, against all logic, she had expected at least a bit of earnest pretense from Roman. Instead, he behaved as if this was a business transaction—which marriage was, except she was rather offended by this attitude of his.

“I see,” she said airily. “I am nothing more than a bag of money to you.”

“Well, I do have a man thing, you know.”


Maxwell is at the top of her game with this Spinster Heiresses series starter. Readers expect the believable characters, strong plot and emotional depth Maxwell always delivers, but she adds an even deeper twist in a powerful and mature love story that is sure to become as well loved as Mary Jo Putney’s The Rake and the Reformer.  If Ever I Should Love You is a romance to read more than once!

Roman Gilchrist unexpectedly inherits the title Earl of Rochdale … and his uncle’s mountain of debts. To escape the creditors, he needs to marry for money and one of the Spinster Heiresses will do just fine. Leonie Charnock and Roman have a history together. Years ago in India, he saved her from a scandal that destroyed his career. Leonie has sworn off men and marriage. But fate has a funny way of changing her plans. She agrees to marry Roman in name only; something he isn’t going to allow. Roman realizes that Leonie is attempting to hide another problem and he’s determined to help her face the demons that are destroying their chance for happiness. (AVON, Jan., 368 pp., $7.99)
Reviewed by:
Kathe Robin