The Lost Duke of Wyndham (Two Dukes of Wyndham, Book 1)
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"Jack Audley has been a highwayman.
A soldier. And he has ""always"" been a rogue. What he is not, and never wanted to be, is a peer of the realm, responsible for an ancient heritage and the livelihood of hundreds. But when he is recognized as the long-lost son of the House of Wyndham, his carefree life is over. And if his birth proves to be legitimate, then he will find himself with the one title he never wanted: Duke of Wyndham.
Grace Eversleigh has spent the last five years toiling as the companion to the dowager Duchess of Wyndham. It is a thankless job, with very little break from the routine . . . until Jack Audley lands in her life, all rakish smiles and debonair charm. He is not a man who takes no for an answer, and when she is in his arms, she's not a woman who wants to say no. But if he is the true duke, then he is the one man she can never have . . .
She was surprised. He could see it by the way her lashes seemed to reach a little higher toward her brows. She was not used to being ordered to tend to anyone except the dowager. Her employer, he decided, did not like to share her. And as his eyes fell again to her lips, he decided that he was in complete accord. If she were his, if he had any right to her…he would not wish to share her, either. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to touch her, just a soft brush of hand against skin, so
the moment to let her posture slip. She did not dare close her eyes. And sure enough, only ten seconds passed before the dowager brought the paper back down and asked sharply, “Do you think he will make a good duke?” “Mr. Au—” Grace caught herself just in time. “Er, our new guest?” The dowager rolled her eyes at her verbal acrobatics. “Call him Mr. Cavendish. It is his name.” “But it is not what he wishes to be called.” “I don’t give a damn what he wishes to be called. He is who he is.” The
had her body, and she had her pride, and she could not allow herself to give them to a man who was not to be her husband. And they both knew that if he turned out to be the Duke of Wyndham, then he could never be her husband. Grace did not know all of the circumstances of his upbringing, but she’d heard enough to know that he was familiar with the ways of the aristocracy. He had to know what would be expected of him. He cupped her face in his hands and stared at her with a tenderness that took
Failure would have been too mortifying, so he got himself booted out. Not that it took much imagination to find ways to behave in a manner unbecoming of a Trinity College student. He had returned home, supposedly in disgrace, and it was decided that he might do well in the army. So off he went. It had been a perfect fit. Finally, a place he could succeed and thrive without books and papers and quills. It wasn’t that he was unintelligent. It was just that he hated books and papers and quills.
grace!” There was no reply, so she said, a little louder, “Ma’am!” The dowager’s irate visage appeared in the open doorway. “What do you want?” Grace reminded herself that she had not spent a lifetime of Sunday mornings in church for nothing. “I wished to inquire if you needed anything, your grace.” “Why?” Good heavens, she was suspicious. “Because I am a nice person,” Grace said, somewhat impatiently. And then she crossed her arms, waiting to see what the dowager said to that. The dowager