the fact that her family is skint broke. If she wants to ensure the survival of her aged grandmother and younger siblings, she'll need to leverage the only thing they have left - their good name - and land herself a rich husband. There's only one problem she can see with her plan: she has no bloody idea what she's doing.

Enlisting the help of the wickedly rakish Marquis of Basingstone, Eleanor embarks on a crash course in how to attract the monstrous Gentry, high society courtship, and lessons in lovemaking . . . academically, of course. It never occurs to her that her tutor may, in fact, be a perfect match. By the time her heart begins to make her aware of its preference for the sharp-tongued, winged Marquis, the Monsters Ball is upon her and she needs to put her plan into action.

Lord Silas Stride, the Marquis of Basingstone is an unrepentant rake of the highest order. He has no intention of giving away his heart. It would be cruel to chain another to the fate of a half-life such as his - only coming awake at twilight, living as a silent spectator to the daytime world. He'd not punish a wife in such a fashion; could not bear to allow his progeny to exist in a world where he resided only part of the time . . . far easier to embrace the life of a confirmed bachelor, and keep his heart as stony as the rest of him.

But Silas did not count on one Eleanor Eastwick. He recognized her the moment he saw her, seeking his disreputable counsel. She had shone like a star when he knew her years earlier, and she did once again in his study, leaving him unable to deny his assistance. He could not possibly risk his heart on a delicate flower of the daytime, but a lady who was used to a life after dark . . . Silas Stride had no intention of taking a wife,

but once Eleanor has left for the Monsters Ball, he cannot help but claim his own invitation, and his bride.