Charming the Duke
by Holly
Bush
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
1849
. . . Matilda Sheldon, the middle daughter of the sixth Earl of Bisset, has
never been interested in the fashionable society events that so preoccupy her
parents and siblings. Her loving, albeit, daft family cannot understand why.
But Matilda has little use for silly rules and dramas. She would rather occupy
her time with a worthwhile cause such as opening The Sheldon Home for Orphans,
much to the chagrin of her mother and grandmother. They are quite certain a
venture of this nature will discourage suitors. Matilda is quite certain that
if suitors are discouraged it is because she is clever, plain, a bit clumsy,
and inevitably compared to her beautiful sisters.
The
Duke of Thornsby is in tight spot. After receiving the title on the death of
his father, he discovers the inheritance is to be gifted elsewhere if he does
not marry before his thirtieth birthday. Unfortunately, our man-about-town is
embroiled in a scandal, not of his own making, and the marriage mamas won’t let
any eligible misses anywhere near him. What’s a Duke to do? Get invited to a
house party hosted by the notoriously absent-minded Earl of Bisset, who just
happens to be Papa to some young ladies of marriageable age!
Thornsby
finds himself fascinated, not with the two Sheldon debutantes actively seeking
a husband, but rather with the ‘brown wren’ he first mistakes for a servant.
Matilda is counting the hours until the house party ends when the necessity of
conversing with the guests will be over, and ridiculously handsome men go far
away. Can a worldly Duke convince a sensible girl to accept his court? Find out
in Charming the Duke.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
EXCERPT:
Our hero can’t resist a kiss . . .
“Thornsby!” Matilda hissed. People from one end of the room
to the other were staring. Oddly, the glimpse Matilda caught of her mother
revealed a smile.
“What is wrong with you, Thornsby?” Matilda asked when he
finally released her after pulling her into the first deserted room they came
to.
“You said yourself that Altry has never asked you to dance.
What do you imagine prompted him now?”
“Heavens, I don’t know. Why would I care? It was just a
dance,” Matilda replied.
“Just a dance? That young pup was nearly drooling.”
“Drooling? Whatever are you talking about?” Matilda asked.
“Miss Sheldon! You are no fool. Don’t presume to tell me you
don’t understand. Altry asked you to dance because of this damned outfit you’re
wearing.” Thornsby shouted.
“You’re only angry you can’t compare me to a maid or a
washwoman.”
Matilda supposed the Duke was right though. Altry would have
never paid her court if she hadn’t been wearing this dress. It all supported
her notion that the glasses, brown dresses, and scruffy boots separated the
chaff from the wheat. Those that deemed her worthy enough to speak to when
dressed that way, and those that chose this evening to address her. The Duke
had apparently noticed her gown.
Thornsby stared at her as if in a trance. She wondered what
was going through his mind. “Don’t make Altry to be any more the cad than you,
Thornsby. You’ve never noticed me either. Unless to insult me.”
His eye twitched. “That is untrue.”
“Far from it,” Matilda said.
“Don’t presume to know what is in my mind,” Thornsby said
and grabbed Matilda’s bare shoulders.
The moment was charged with sparks, shooting through the
air, connecting him to her. Matilda felt, well, she didn’t know what she felt.
Fluttery and female. Angry. Aware. The touch of his fingertips drifted down her
arms leaving her hands numb. Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
“What is on your mind then?” she asked.
“I’m thinking of kissing you, Miss Sheldon.”
Matilda batted her lashes. “Is it the dress?”
Thornsby touched his lips to hers. A feather’s touch. He
inched back to gaze over her face. “I don’t know. But I don’t think so.”
His breath was warm on her cheeks. She’d never been this
close to a man before. She could see the lines around his mouth and the bristle
of his beard. He touched his lips to hers again.
“What do you imagine it is?” Matilda whispered into his
mouth.
Thornsby slipped his hand around her waist and pulled her
close. He tilted her head up with his finger. “I haven’t a clue,” he said. Then
he kissed her. Really kissed her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Holly
Bush was born in western Pennsylvania to two avid readers. There was not a room
in her home that did not hold a full bookcase. She worked in the hospitality
industry, owning a restaurant for twenty years. Holly has been a marketing
consultant to start-up businesses and has done public speaking on the subject.
Holly
has been writing all of her life and is a voracious reader of a wide variety of
fiction and non-fiction, particularly political and historical works. She has
written four romance novels, all set in the U.S. West in the mid 1800’s. She
frequently attends writing conferences, and has always been a member of a
writer’s group.
Holly
is a gardener, a news junkie, and former vice-president of her local library
board and loves to spend time near the ocean. She is the proud mother of two
daughters and the wife of a man more than a few years her junior.
Links:
www.hollybushbooks.com
Twitter
- @hollybushbooks
Facebook
- http://www.facebook.com/?ref=tn_tnmn#!/pages/Holly-Bush/247399131941435
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00D381HR6/ref=rdr_kindle_ext_tmb
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Hi Julie and thanks for having me! I won't be able to stop back until later today but I'm looking forward to gabbing with your followers!
ReplyDeleteThanks for hosting!
ReplyDeleteSounds like an interesting book.
ReplyDelete-H.B.