Worth's womenfolk and family reconciliation are the only redeeming element to this book. It was already derivative of almost all of Burrowes' other romances, which is bad enough, but then you have Jacaranda who never, not once, does any of the heavy lifting, or takes any of the risks, in her relationships.

When she's offered opportunities to be vulnerable, to broach uncomfortable truths, to open wounds so they can heal, she instead chooses, to use Burrowes' own words, "to dodge and cringe and tiptoe around the past." If anything ever gets solved, or resolved, it's due entirely to the efforts of the people around her. And even then, she mostly says whatever she has to in order to avoid further conflict.

Romances, to me, are often about the growth the characters experience on their journey to finding happiness together. Worth grows. His family grows. Even Jacaranda's family grows a tiny fraction—gotta say, given their selfishness, I'm not looking forward to Burrowes' series on their love stories, ugh—but Jacaranda? Not at all. She gets to her happy ending because other people drag her to it, all the while graciously overlooking her inability to discuss difficult subjects with any degree of honesty, bravery, or clear-eyed directness. ( )

A young woman portrays a housekeeper for an absent lord. But when he returns with his family, she becomes more than the housekeeper to him. Along with a half sister, a niece and an entire staff to command, the lord tries to get his housekeeper to be a keeper. ( )