Regency heiress Agatha Winslow--25, un-pretty, with a slight limp from a riding accident--has decided she'll never marry; she'll simply go on being the supremely competent manager of the estate left to her by her late father and mother. Then, however, Agatha must go up to London--where her dim-witted, gorgeous younger sister Celia, on the ton, seems to have fallen dangerously head-over-heels for that notorious rake Lord Averson! So off Agatha trundles, with flirtatious help along the way (her first shattering kiss!) from an irresistibly attractive stranger. And who does this stranger turn out to be?. Lord Averson himself, of course--though it's then revealed that Celia doesn't adore the 35-ish Lord but his empty-headed young nephew David. All is set up, then, for a Darcy/Elizabeth-style courtship between worldly-wise Averson and quick-witted Agatha. She can't believe that Averson would care for her, though "she was dangerously close to forming a lasting tendre for him, and that would never do!" Averson, less worldly-wise than he seems, has decided never to marry--because he believes that genteel women can't enjoy sensual pleasures. But an eccentric old fairy-godmother type, Lady Draysham, soon sets both parties straight. So, after a bit of foul play is foiled by Averson (a fortune-hunting old flame of Agatha's has her abducted), there'll be the inevitable fadeout--with happiness for both Agatha and doughty, not-so-dim-witted Celia. Standard Regency fare in the ungushy tradition, complete with Beau Brummell cameo (not flamboyant, "his attire actually suggested a quiet elegance"), but likable, reasonably tart, and non-idiotic.