My Darling Duke

Unless, if she genuinely lost her heart to him, she could convince him to give her his in return.

Kitty froze, her heart pounding with such force, she felt faint.

Part of her recoiled at the direction of her thoughts, but another part, which had been dormant for far too long, stirred to life. Could she really try to show the duke they could be perfect for each other?

Surely a man who had been without a duchess for so long would not look at her and believe she was ideally suited for that role. Kitty snorted, hating the hunger crawling through her heart. Impossible yearnings she had suppressed the instant Papa had died, for her family had now become her sole responsibility.

A silent, dangerous thrill coursed through her. What if she could have something more with the duke…something real and not the pretend nonsense she had been living? She could undertake a dangerous gamble: putting her heart and emotions at risk. Overnight, she’d become a fool. One who no longer had rational thoughts but dwelled on love and family…and her own happiness with the most unsuitable man. For he had not shown any inclination toward permanency.

I’ll never marry, Miss Danvers.

But what if she could dream a little?

And Kitty allowed wicked dreams into her heart while she bathed: of being the duke’s friend…and his lover, and the woman he would fall hopelessly in love with.

…

The mantel clock chimed the half hour. The third such chime since he’d returned home with Miss Danvers in tow. Alexander had summoned his team of doctors to attend him at the estate immediately and had indulged in a long bath, scrubbing away all the grime and mud that hadn’t been adequately cleaned with that small basin of water in the cottage.

Dressed and feeling somewhat human again, he made his way slowly down the winding staircase, then the lengthy hallway, relying heavily on the cane gripped in his right hand. The manner in which he had pushed himself in the last several hours twisted the muscles of his lower back and leg. The pain had barely been eased by the long, heated soak in the large copper tub and the extended rub by his manservant. It was time for him to take to his bath chair and remove the pressure from his body.

Alexander entered the library and let the heavy oak door close behind him, not surprised to see Eugene perusing a book by the fire or pretending to read. His cousin’s diversions were usually of a different variety—namely women and racing.

The book was slammed closed with some relief. “Ah, finally. I wondered if you would come down.”

Alexander made his way over to his wheeled contraption and lowered himself into its arms. He almost groaned at the relief that pulsed through his body. When he glanced up, Eugene peered at him with concern. His cousin’s lips tightened as his gaze landed on the iron chair in which Alexander sat. It had been years, and still, his cousin was uncomfortable looking upon his limitations.

“Had a rough time of it, did you? George told me of all that happened. You took a risk going back for him in those damned waters.”

“Ah, but it was worth it. He is alive.”

And as odd as it would seem, the servants of McMullen Castle were like his family. They had been with him during every hellish step to recovery. They hadn’t allowed him to give up or lose himself in the haze and comfort of opium or other deadly pursuits.

It had taken days and the painstaking resilience of a team of the best doctors from Edinburgh and England to save his life. It had been several weeks later before he had been fit to see anyone. Almost a year before he had walked unassisted without a cane or his hovering manservant. And about three years before he’d stopped being a beast to everyone. How he had roared and screamed his loss and anguish, holding on to the physical pain as his wretched companion.

The pain had been better than a heart heavy with grief.

Eugene grunted, raking his fingers through his sandy hair. “Who is this Miss Danvers? While I detected a warmth between you, when I saw you three weeks’ past, I heard no news of an engagement, and Penny has a permanent mischievous twinkle in her eyes.”

With some amusement in his tone, Alexander told the wicked tale of Miss Kitty Danvers, the ruse she played on society, and his fascination. Alexander ended with, “Somehow I thought the gossips would have reached you in Bedfordshire.”

His cousin turned a shocked countenance toward him. “Are you funning me?”

“No, that I am not.”

“She lied about knowing you!”

Alexander grunted a noncommittal reply.

Eugene scowled. “Miss Danvers is beyond incorrigible! To think of such a hoax and execute it… Why, I am still at a loss at her boldness.”

He tried to prevent the smile but failed lamentably.

Surprise widened his cousin’s eyes before they narrowed thoughtfully on Alexander. “You like her,” he said softly.

“I am more curious.” Liar.

“And that is why she is here?”