Ah, the luck of the Irish, Eleanor thinks wistfully. Perhaps someday, with any luck, that handsome, blue-eyed Lord Hugh will realize that she, and not her sister Mary, is the one for him. Such distress she endures! Not only is Lord Hugh determined to marry her younger sister, but, he continues to treat Eleanor with arrogance and condescension, so sure is he that she is a ninny –especially about the poaching in the forest and managing her lands — and not to be trusted. Little does he know! Luck — when will it arrive at the gates of her castle? Will it arrive in the person of Lord Hugh, whose intense gaze rakes her soul and drives all coherent thought out of her head? Is that the luck she should wish for? Such a dilemma….