Eva Shepherd - Beguiling The Duke

Can an impoverished orphan

...ever marry a duke?

Penniless American Rosie Smith will do anything for her wealthy guardian’s daughter. She’d even save her friend from a marriage of convenience with a stuffy Englishman by posing as the heiress! Her plan to put off the duke backfires spectacularly: beneath his stiff formality is a hardworking and amusing man. Too late Rosie is falling for Alexander—only he has no idea who she really is...

After graduating with degrees in history and political science, EVA SHEPHERDworked in journalism and as an advertising copywriter. She began writing historical romances because it combines her love of a happy ending with her passion for history. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand, but spends her days immersed in the world of late Victorian England.

Beguiling the Duke

is Eva Shepherd’s gripping debut

for Mills & Boon Historical!

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Beguiling the Duke

Eva Shepherd

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08945-6

BEGUILING THE DUKE

© 2019 Eva Shepherd

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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To Julia Williams, Bryony Green

and the editorial team at Harlequin, for their support,

guidance and encouragement.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Extract

About the Publisher

Rosie Smith raised the delicate bone china cup to her lips, took a sip of the fragrant Darjeeling tea and sighed with contentment.

Despite being a penniless orphan, with no prospects worth mentioning, here she was, dressed in the latest fashion, taking tea at the Ritz, surrounded by Britain’s elite.

Her feet, encased in soft kid leather boots, were aching after spending all day walking around the shops and sights of London. She was still tired from the gruelling trip across the Atlantic from New York. And yet she couldn’t be happier.

She sighed again and looked across the lace-covered table at her friend, who was smiling with equal contentment.

‘What shall we do tomorrow?’ Rosie took a cucumber sandwich from the top layer of the three-tiered cake stand and placed it on her rose-patterned plate. ‘More shopping? Or shall we take in some art galleries and museums?’

‘Art galleries and museums, I think.’ Arabella placed a scone on her plate and smothered it with jam and clotted cream. ‘After all, I’m sure Father would want us to absorb as much culture as we can while we’re in England.’

The two girls giggled conspiratorially.

Rosie lifted a finger and waggled it in Arabella’s direction. ‘“What good is art, my dear? You don’t get a decent return on sculptures. Nobody ever got rich from culture.”’

Arabella clapped her hands and laughed loudly. ‘You do such a brilliant impersonation of Father. It’s you who should be on the stage, Rosie, not me.’

Their jubilation drew the attention of the women sitting at the next table, who glared down their imperious noses with looks that might have withered the spring buds on the tree. Rosie was tempted to poke out her tongue. Instead she lifted her head and returned their looks of disapproval. Although she suspected being glared at down a small button nose wouldn’t have quite the same impact.

‘Humourless old biddies,’ she whispered. ‘Have they never heard anyone laugh before?’ She smiled at Arabella. ‘So, tomorrow it’s art galleries and museums—perfect.’

The two girls sipped their tea and sighed simultaneously.

A waiter approached the table and bowed low. Arabella smiled her thanks, removed the folded letter from his silver tray and read its contents. Her smile dissolved. Her hand shot to her mouth and her shoulders slumped.

‘What is it? What’s wrong, Bella?’ Rosie reached across the table and touched her friend’s arm.

Arabella’s hands trembled as she passed her the letter. Rosie quickly scanned the elegant handwriting. It was an invitation from the Dowager Duchess of Knightsbrook, inviting Arabella to a weekend party at her estate in Devon.

‘Oh, this is too, too terrible, Rosie.’ Arabella took a lace handkerchief from her embroidered clutch purse and dabbed at her eyes. ‘It’s from the mother of that horrid man Father expects me to marry.’