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Authors: Olivia Ritch

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“Someday you English are going to tell me what a minx is.

Cassandra, did he rail at you first?” she asked turning her face toward 161

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her. Michael’s heart was bursting as he watched the two beaming at each other.

“No, I told him it was your idea and he made a horrible face and I think he was determined not to speak ill of you. Your incapacitation was a Godsend. We’re getting married, sometime soon but we haven’t fixed the date yet.”

“Cassandra, I am so happy for you.”

“Now, my sister, you have told your news. Please let me enjoy Kathryn to myself.”

“I’ll be back after luncheon and we will talk more, maybe wedding plans?” Cassandra bent down and brushed a kiss on Kathryn’s forehead.

“I can’t wait.”

* * * *

Once Cassandra had left, Kathryn got right to the point. “Okay, I’m ready for you to come clean on what the heck is going on. Someone sabotaged the bridge to kill one of us and someone came in my room and was chased off. Surely, you have some theories about what is going on.”

“Theories only, nothing really.” He winced.

“Just tell me. Don’t try to lie or hide it. Surely, you know I can see there’s something going on. Don’t shut me out. I’ve been…” She hesitated because she didn’t want to make him feel guilty about what had happened since she’d been with him but it was beyond time for him to tell her what the hell was going on. “You owe me an explanation.”

“Yes.” With a resigned sigh, he told her that he and his associates believed someone was trying to kill her first and then would come for him to take over the Dukedom.

“So who inherits if you die?”

“Harold Stafford, my cousin. The one who was with …”

“Yes?”

“Nothing?

“You’ve thought of something, tell me.”

“He was with my brother who, while he had fallen from his horse, actually probably bled to death. He might have been saved. What if…Harold killed him too?”

“Or he just allowed him to die. Maybe it was a convenient accident.”

“That makes sense. Once my brother was dead, there was only me and my sure-to-die-young father between him and the title and as long as I was on the Continent, I could be dead any day. He could bide his time with ‘no blood on his hands’ literally and figuratively.

She gave him a wicked smile. “Then you came back and got a 162

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girlfriend.”

He chuckled hollowly. “Yes, and now my girlfriend is a target because…”

“Can you just go ahead and tell me? Because what?”

“You have to be killed while you are an unknown. Your death will fall largely into the category of ‘no news.’ Ideally, you should die before me so there is no…posthumous…”

“…heir.” They said the word at the same time.

“What a conniving, murdering bastard.”

“Exactly my sentiments, love. Now we just have to catch him.

“How do we do that?”

“A trap.”

Their conversation was overtaxing her and he really wanted to stop talking with her about murderers. “Kathryn, you need to rest. I’ll come back in a while and we’ll spend time together then later I will tuck you in for the night.”

“Promise you’ll stay.”

He hesitated. “It’s not the done thing really, Kathryn.”

“Is there a soul in this house who is going to stop you from staying with me or announcing it in the papers if you do?”

“No love, you are right, no one will stop me. I’ll be back then.”

* * * *

“Michael, we’ve got to draw him out of the shadows,” Jules said.

Two days later, in Michael’s study, the battle over the trap had been raging for fifteen minutes and Kathryn had listened to this group of headstrong, arrogant and she noticed, incredibly large and gorgeous, men debate until she wanted to scream and yell. It was so simple to her.

She needed to be the bait and she told them so.

“No!” The chorus of male refusal was universal but she plowed ahead nonetheless.

“Look, he is watching me somehow I think, so if it appears I am alone or running away again, maybe that I’m sneaking out or heading home, he will show himself. As it is now, we are sitting ducks because he’s hiding and all of your efforts, as I know they have been legion, have not been able to scare him out.”

The room was quiet as the men pondered her words.

“London. We need to go to London.” Michael began talking distractedly but realized he was doing so out loud and firmed up his tone.

“Surely he will follow us…”

“But we’ll be in much closer quarters and have a chance of anticipating his moves,” Julian added.

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“I agree, we will do best in London but Kathryn, that does not mean in any way that I have acceded to your offer to serve as bait. We will find another way.”

“Listen, I am the one who was almost poisoned, was shot at, and then dumped in the stream on my head. I am the one with the lovely purple hole in my neck.” Michael winced and Colin groaned while Julian made a respectful cough to cover his blanch. “This is as much my decision as yours because even though you’re the one he’s trying to get at, I am the one he has
gotten
!”

“Maybe we can devise a scheme where we don’t put Miss Ragland in danger but rather make it
look
like she’s the bait,” Colin suggested.

“A disguise. Brilliant man!” Matthew exclaimed while Michael quickly brightened at the prospect of using someone other than Kathryn as the bait.

“I am going to leave it on that note since you all have at least accepted to some extent that I am part of this thing whether I actually face a killer or not. Suits me fine to not but I will not be left out, Michael. Agreed?”

“Not agreed.”

Exasperated, Kathryn said, “Michael, I am not going to threaten you in front of your friends but I can tell you that you will not like me very much if we can’t at least have a mutual understanding on something like this. You have to let me be part of my own protection.”

“Umm-hmm,” Julian coughed again because after his one long ride with Kathryn, he knew of what she was capable. Michael might as well surrender now.

“Kathryn, I will not put you in danger. Period.”

“I am already in danger and you can’t keep me from it, no offense, mind you. All I ask is to be part of deciding the solution. You must accept it.”

“I will agree to include you in consultation. That’s as far as I can accept right now.”

“Deal.”

He looked at her, surprised. “Deal? That easy?”

“Yes.” She rose from her position near the fire and left without another hint of argument and she made sure she didn’t look mad or petulant or scheming.

“Your proposed fiancée’ is impressive, Michael. We should all be so fortunate.”

“Thank you, Hamilton. Since she’s been in my life now more than a fortnight, I’ve had as much excitement here at home as I did on the 164

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Continent. Is it possible that getting entangled with an intelligent, foreign woman could be any more difficult?”

“Well, it should be some comfort that once we lay hold of Harold, the death threats will end. You’ll only have to deal with the other big decisions of life. Imagine how she’ll be when she’s breeding and you’re telling her she can’t run.” Julian laughed sardonically but he did not look directly at Michael.

“Now I have a headache,” Michael groaned. “I can’t even think about it.”

But after they left, he did think about it and found that the idea of Kathryn pregnant with his child infused his gut with the warmest feeling.

He could think about it a lot actually.

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Chapter Nineteen

How to dress a lady for an investiture ceremony. Michael was pondering such a question as the Asterleigh carriage pulled out from the drive in front of Asterleigh House in Grosvenor Square. It was his first sojourn from the house as the Duke Presumptive and he had two women in tow, each of whom could be unpredictable, embarrassing and downright vulgar if she so chose. They could also be the two most intelligent, intriguing, damnably enticing women he had ever seen. Lady Cassandra Penthoven was regal, aristocratic, austere, severe, captivating, and challenging. Miss Kathryn Ragland was earthy, beguiling, embarrassing, absurd, exquisite, scintillating, and breathtaking.

The two most important women in his life made Michael look like a veritable bore in his gray and black, someone not to be noticed when they moved together down the street, as colorful and stunning as he was drab. Their presence attracted entirely too much attention. Males gaped, gawked, gasped, and groped for a look, seeking even the slightest indication that the Asterleigh ladies noticed them. Michael was struck with as many parts pride at their presence as outright fear at their attractiveness and the looks they drew. He would need all the resources many years on the battlefield had honed to keep away the rakes, roués and blackguards drawn to the spectacle of two such awe-inspiring, fresh blooded prizes as his sister and his love inspired as they alighted from their carriage on Bond Street.

Michael had plenty of experience with jealous males, cads and jaundiced pretenders but no experience with highly paid, egotistical fake French modistes. He knew one way…he knew how to give a mercenary what he, in this case
she
, wanted. “Madame, we are so glad you could receive us. You see I am accompanied by the two most exquisite creatures in all of England who are to sit at my hands during my ceremonies with his Majesty. They must be clad by you, Madame.”

She practically fainted at his words. Prinny and these ladies, and an investiture, and them so stylishly turned out. Who the hell were these English country folks she did not know? Madame knew everybody, damn well everyone. She hadn’t spent two years learning French and six months memorizing Debrett’s to falter when such an exquisite trio entered her shop.

Which was the mistress and which was the wife?
It intrigued her that 166

Duke of Her Dreams – Olivia Ritch

they would come together. What an enlightened and odd wife. The gorgeous dark haired one looked more like the aristocratic wife but she was obviously affectionate with the honey-colored small one. Was this the famous ménage-a-trois she had heard so much from?

“Madame? If you would be so kind as to allow me to present Lady Cassandra Stafford Penthoven, my most beloved sister, and her companion, Miss Kathryn Ragland.”

Ah, so the dark-skinned blonde is the consort then? Interesting.

“My sister knows her taste but Miss Ragland welcomes a more direct approach. Feel free to suggest what you think will be best on her.

She will be in our section, Madame.”

Ahhh, so it is to be like that.
Monsieur le duc
does not care what the haut
ton
thinks. He will keep the mistress openly. Well, he will pay well,
very well
for the privilege.

Ceres, goddess of the earth.
If there was ever a human incarnation of that deity, it was Kathryn Ragland, soon to be Duchess of Asterleigh, wrapped in dark bronze heavy silk with her streaked golden mane flowing over gently bronzed shoulders with fabric trailing behind as if her body blended with the floor of Madame Filene’s modiste salon. His Kathryn smiled and the entire shop lit up with her radiance. The other ladies picking fabrics and talking in low tones for fear of his presence gawked at her and Madame’s face was twisted into a joyous and confused contortion. “Mademoiselle, you are…exquisite.”

“Oh Kathryn, that is surely the most beautiful fabric for you.

Michael will have to fight the assembled throng off with his swordstick when you arrive. You are absolutely breathtaking.” With that, Cassandra subsided onto the settee by Michael, who could not take his eyes off his beautiful Kathryn. He had seen her naked and in breeches and in lovely hand-me-down gowns and soaked through to the barest of skin and in a futuristic night rail but he had never seen her swathed in expensive fabric as a goddess. All she needed was a crown fashioned of grain stalks and she would be the goddess of the Earth, Ceres come to life. Or, if he were a student of Greek culture, Demeter. Ceres more directly suited his purposes as
searing
had him perfectly in mind of his heart.

Michael was definitely in charge of the room. “My dear, that fabric seems to suit you. Madame, I would like to make a present to Miss Ragland of a gown fashioned from this fabric for her gallantry in saving my life.”

“Saving your life?” several female voices intoned including Kathryn’s.

“Yes, there was a bridge collapse and sadly she took the brunt of the 167

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collapse, leaving me entirely unharmed. This gown will be my gift and she will wear it to my investiture ceremony in two days time.”


Two days
,” Madame shrieked. “It will be a masterpiece, how will I ever…?”

“You will, Madame, because she will be the main attraction at my investiture in front of Prinny himself. I understand she has been brought to his attention. I expect you will want this commission to take precedence over your others?”

“Ah, your grace, yes…it will…take precedence.”

“Thank you Madame. Ladies, shall we right our clothing and take that surprise I promised you?”

“A surprise? You are turning into a regular…what ‘romantic’?”

He gave Kathryn a playful grin as he twined her arm through his.

He also wanted to twine their fingers together so that the men who were even now watching this with keen interest knew she was claimed.

Knowing from the first that this would happen—men ogling her—is why he had avoided bringing Kathryn to London at all. His already badly worn patience with Harold Stafford’s murdering intentions would no doubt be completely shattered as he fended off the advances of the town’s brashest rakes.

The gentlemen of quality who knew him would stay clear but there would be some unconcerned for the look in his eyes and Kathryn’s lovely open nature and warm earthy smile would be too enticing for them to resist. It was already giving him another headache. “Yes, Gunter’s for ices. Ladies, I must tell you that I am being regarded with such jealousy by the men on the street.”

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