Yes, you read that right. 7 times. This is the 7th time I've read this, and I still loved it. Heck, I think I will always love Lord Carew's Bride. 
 LOVE 
 in caps lock and bold, italicised, underlined letters, just in case you can't see how intense my feelings for this book are. (Now you do.) 
 I'm not even ashamed to admit that this glowing, shining 5 star rating is mainly due to Hartley, our hero. I don't know about you, but I'm a hero-centric reader, so it's the main guy who makes or breaks a book for me. 
 And Hartley was every bit the perfect man. He might have been imperfect on the outside--with his limp and broken right hand--but he was perfect for me. I love him so much it scares my boyfriend. (Actually, just between you and me, I've already decided to name any son I will have in the [hopefully distant] future "Hartley Sebastian" in honour of this book's hero and of Sebastian St. Vincent from The Devil in Winter. I know I should at least squeeze in my boyfriend's name somewhere, but "Hartley Sebastian Gabriel" hardly seems fair on a kid. Oh, well!) 
 Every smile she gave Hartley Wade was a treasure to be stored up for future pleasure, because each smile was guileless and sincere as well as utterly beautiful. Every word she spoke to him had been committed carefully to memory. 
 Sigh. Isn't that just poetry to your ovaries? 
 He wondered if he was being hopelessly fanciful, hopelessly romantic, to believe that he would always remember her, always love her. 
 Or at least, what used to be your ovaries before they exploded into smithereens. 
 And he would never let his wife suffer. For the rest of his days, he would devote himself to her happiness. 
 Oh, Hartley, I would gladly make fictional babies with you. Devote yourself to me, lover boy. 
 For answer he leaned forward and kissed her swiftly on both cheeks, brushing away the salt tears with his lips. 
 Let's fill a whole imaginary baseball stadium with our fictional babies. 
 As you can see, Hartley was very devoted, humble and (insert all nice qualities you could think about here). He's had the short end of the stick in life: he's been widely criticised for his limp and disfigured hand, and women were only after his money and title. I'm pretty sure you know the type; it's the usual Beauty and the Beast situation. 
 But what isn't usual is Hartley's reaction to what he was. Unlike most heroes in the trope, he wasn't a bitter, angsty person who hated everyone who spurned him. Sure, he was lonely, but he was never angry or vengeful. He didn't have that toxic angst that men in similar circumstances were wont to have. Instead, he accepted his circumstances maturely, channeling his energy on things he could control. Furthermore, he was always kind and understanding to others, even his critics. 
 That is why, he is one of my all-time favourite heroes. 
 And I guess, that's why I've always had mixed feelings about Samantha, our heroine. The unforgiving fangirl in me felt that she was not good enough for him. Well, you see, Lord Carew's Bride is really an exploration of the different faces of love. (Wow, did I just get all philosophical on you? Sorry, just bear with me.) Samantha has only seen the destructive aspect to it; how wild, unbridled passion could burn so fiercely but so painfully, as well. She never knew that love could also be safe, comfortable and kind. That's why she never realised that she was already in love with Hartley until the last 10% of the book. 
 Believe me, there were times when I just wanted to bitchslap the shit out of her. 
 Instances when I wanted to reach inside the book, and shake some sense into her. 
 But it would be unfair to Samantha to hate her for that. She was perfectly justified in her actions. As a reader, you would understand why she acted the way she did. And to be fair, she really was likeable, if you can get past her annoying naiveness. Her protective feelings towards Hartley was endearing, and just what he needed. 
 "Whole?" She looked into his eyes. "You mean because of your accident? Do you think that makes a difference to me? Because you limp? And because you have lost some of the use of your hand? You are whole in every way that could possibly be of importance to me. I regret these things only in that they cause you distress." 
 She lifted his right hand to rub her cheek against his fingers. She turned her head to kiss them. 
 I just want to mention a couple of things here, though. I want to say it explicitly: Hartley mentioned his dead mistress, Dorothea, a couple of times. If you know me, you would know that that's more than enough reason to get my panties in a twist; however, this didn't bother me at all. Why? Well, I guess that's because I felt that what really existed between him and Dorothea was nothing more than friendship. He respected her, yes, but there was absolutely no trace of any heated sensuality, or longing, or love, in the way he spoke of her. Nothing at all to warrant you getting jealous on Samantha's behalf. You would really feel that our heroine was special to him. Plus, he wasn't a manwhore, by any means. He had slept with one woman his whole life, a woman who died long before he met Samantha. So yes, that detail never bothered me. 
 Also, I think I should mention that if you're not acquainted with Mary Balogh's writing, you might find this rather tepid. This is not a sexy, steamy story. It is, however, one of the the sweetest I've ever read, and I hope you give it a chance.