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Arianna Reeves knows how quickly admiration can turn into exile. One poorly placed trust, one disastrously charming rake, and she is no longer society's darling--but its favorite cautionary tale.

Now returned home--uninvited and unmistakably whispered about--Arianna is determined to make amends with her estranged family and do something useful with her thoroughly ruined life. Even if polite society would prefer she did it at a very great distance from anyone respectable.

Thomas Bridges, a principled clergyman with an inconvenient habit of thinking for himself, is already walking a narrow line. His congregation expects propriety, his mother expects matrimony, and both have very firm opinions about his future. Thomas, however, would prefer a life guided by conviction . . . even when it proves impractical.

When Arianna repeatedly--and quite disruptively--crosses his path, Thomas faces a dilemma no sermon prepared him for. She is not at all what she ought to be: not dull, not foolish, and--most dangerously--not someone he can overlook, but a kindred spirit who shares his passion for service and his troubling habit of defying society's expectations . . . all with good intentions, of course.

As their forbidden acquaintance deepens into something far more perilous than friendship, Arianna and Thomas must decide: preserve their reputations, or risk them entirely for the good of others—--and their own hearts.

Because in a society that measures worth by perfection, choosing grace, mercy, and love may cost them everything--and give them more than they ever hoped to find.

In Pride and Practicality, Pepper Basham delivers a Regency rom-com brimming with lively banter, heartfelt charm, and just enough mischief to keep propriety on its toes. With a kisses-only romance that sparkles with chemistry and a story rich in faith, humor, and second chances, this delightful tale invites readers to laugh, sigh, and fall in love with a romance that is as meaningful as it is joyful.

They moved through the opening figures in silence, the steps requiring concentration that precluded conversation. But finally, as the pattern brought them close enough for private speech and to his utter surprise—and delight, truth be told—she smiled up at him with genuine warmth. 

“I do believe you are determined to rescue people, aren’t you, Mr. Bridges?”

The knot in his chest uncoiled a little. Ah, so she battled difficulties with humor even now, as she’d done in Leeds. It was a far too attractive trait. 

“I’m only fulfilling the natural response of any gentleman worth his salt.” He sent the room a glare for good measure, God help him. “It’s unpardonable viciousness.”

“Unpardonable?” Her brow tipped with teasing challenge. “Not a very pleasant thought for a rector, I should think. Doesn't your profession rather depend on the notion that all things might be forgiven?”

His smile responded to her gentle mockery. “Perhaps I should amend to 'unconscionable' instead. Does that satisfy your theological concerns?”

“Considerably better. Though I confess myself surprised that a man of the cloth would risk his reputation for someone he barely knows.” The words emerged carefully, testing the waters of what they could acknowledge in such public circumstances. “Most clergymen I've encountered only reserve their heroics for the pulpit.”

“Then you've been keeping company with the wrong sort of clergymen." The words escaped before he could stop them, and he had the grace to look abashed. “I should hope I would choose to do the right thing regardless of acquaintance.”

The declaration stung with conviction at his earlier hesitation in intervening at all. Thomas guided her through the next turn, attempting to ignore how perfectly her hand fit in his. 

“You absolutely refuse to remain in a tidy box for my well-honed bitterness, don’t you?”

“Do I?” His brows shot northward. “Well, if you will inform me of my supposed ‘box’ as you say, then I shall endeavor to climb inside it directly. I've always thought myself rather good at fitting into confined spaces—a necessary skill for visiting parishioners with very small parlors.”

She chuckled, the sound inciting an alarming response from his pulse. “Please do not.” Her gaze fixed on his and for a moment all humor fled. “I fear I may be lost to the thought of faithful men if you did.”

Her sentiment struck him with an odd sense of grief and . . . what was the feeling? Gratitude? Yes, but something more. Something deep and spine-straightening. Something that made him want to prove himself worthy of that fragile trust in her eyes.

Dangerous territory, that.

“I pray there are many more who would do what is right, Miss Reeves,” he managed. They only need—”

“Someone else to show them the way?” She studied him with those impossibly blue eyes, and he felt rather like a specimen under glass.

He swallowed through the tension in his throat and dipped his head toward her. “I fear you are attempting to embarrass me and it will not do, but I would remind you that there are many more praiseworthy men in this room, if you recall.” He looked toward the wall where Mr. Graves stood. “Our host was first to dance with you.”

They parted in their turn, and he found himself counting the steps until she returned to him. Ridiculous behavior for a man of sense.

“You shouldn't have done this,” Arianna said quietly as the dance brought them together again, almost as if she’d been reading his mind. “It certainly cannot assist in your cause for children or increase your social standing.”

Thomas waited until the pattern reunited them, the separation giving him time to formulate his answer. “Because sometimes doing what is right matters more than doing what is safe.”

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Until next time, may your reading bring both light and encouragement.

Happy reading!
~ Danielle.