This is one of the few regencies I've read that can actually bring tears to my eyes. The heroine has just lost her beloved father but everybody is expecting her to act absolutely normal as if she weren't weeping inside. Her father had asked her to have one last happy Christmas, like old times, and she's trying to do that, without having any space to grieve properly. People grieve and heal at their own speed; she feels quite alone. It triggered my own memories in a similar situation. It is a romance, so all is okay in the end, but, like all early Balogh, it gets pretty intense. I think it's a classic.
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