The Seduction of a Duke

Table of Contents

 

 

PRAISE FOR
The Education of Mrs. Brimley

“[A] scintillating take on the classic lessons-in-love theme. Her witty dialogue, sexy hero, and delightfully intelligent heroine—who understands the value of a well-rounded education—are sure to garner her a wide readership.”

 

“Oh, what a joy to read! Truly humorous . . . Wonderful writing.”
—The Romance Readers Connection

 

“Both original and charming, the book is a sensual indulgence that reveals a promising new talent in the genre.”

 

“[A] fun and fascinating tale that readers are sure to enjoy . . . Emma and her sensual teacher Nicholas . . . will charm readers with their wit and bring up the temperature with their hot encounters.”
—Historical Romance Writers

 

“Victorian romance fans will enjoy this fun frolic starring two likable protagonists who fall in love while he trains her in the art of love. The droll double entendres make for an intelligent, amusing historical as the student teaches the teacher as much as he does her.”
—Midwest Book Review

 

“[A] terrific first novel . . . The witty dialogue, steamy situations, and appealing characters combined to form a delightful book.”
—Romance Junkies

THE EDUCATION OF MRS. BRIMLEY
THE TROUBLE WITH MOONLIGHT
THE SEDUCTION OF A DUKE

THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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South Africa

 

Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

THE SEDUCTION OF A DUKE

 

A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author

 

PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / April 2009

Copyright © 2009 by Donna MacMeans.

 

All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form
without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in
violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

 

eISBN : 978-1-101-15551-6

 

BERKLEY
^®
SENSATION
Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY
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SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

 

 

THE ADDRESS WASN’T THE MOST FASHIONABLE IN Paris. Indeed, the row of merchants obviously catered to a less refined clientele than the Winthrops and the Vander bilts. Furtive figures bundled in drab, well-worn cloaks scurried down the avenue as if winter winds, not fresh spring breezes, chased their backs. A highly polished hackney cab, rarely seen in this neighborhood, slowed in front of an ancient bookseller, the subtle scent of improved fortunes in its wake. A pickpocket lingering near a doorway took interest. A prostitute hesitated, waiting to see if a masculine hand would grasp the doorway prior to exiting. However, when a comely face with a pert nose and two wide, curious eyes peeked out the window, she continued on her way.

Francesca Winthrop, one of the world’s richest heiresses, emerged from the cab, exhilarated by her purloined freedom. Her mother would likely lock her away in her room for weeks on end if she discovered Fran had traveled alone to such a shady district. But then her mother, absorbed in shopping to furnish yet another residence, would likely not even realize Fran had left their rented rooms.

Euphoria filled Fran’s heart and lungs, making even this dingy street one of the most beautiful in the entire city. The air was sweet, the day positively radiant. Unable to contain the smile fueled by her happiness, she nodded to two women who had stopped to stare at the newcomer.

The cause of her joy had a name that she could share only with the woman within the shop. Her mother may have traveled across the Atlantic to purchase the very latest fashions from the House of Worth, but not Fran. She had come to see Madame Aglionby and seek her counsel.

Fran swept inside the obscure bookstore. Pausing to savor the musty fragrance of aged book leather and well-loved pages, she envied her old tutor’s life surrounded by so many stories and fabled adventures.

“Francesca, is that you?” The proprietor’s wife, thin and elegant with threads of silver in her dark hair, threw her arms wide. “You’ve been away too long. Come give your old tutor a hug.”

Fran carefully maneuvered her elaborate day dress through the aisles. The new fashionable narrow silhouette allowed her to negotiate the aisles, but the attached bustle and tiebacks could topple several stacks of books with an ill-considered turn. She stepped into Madame Aglionby’s friendly embrace, relishing the attention she rarely received at home.

“Let me look at you.” Madame Aglionby pushed her to arm’s length. “You are positively glowing!” Her lips twisted into a knowing smile. “I think there’s a man to blame,
oui
?”

Words could not escape the bubble of excitement that blocked Fran’s throat. Finally, she could speak of Randolph and know that her words would go no further. For now, she merely bobbed her head to her friend and former teacher.

“I have set the kettle for tea. Come. Sit and tell me all about your young man.” She led the way to the back of the store and brushed aside a small stack of books with various foreign titles, before she frowned at Fran. “But first, tell me this. Does your
maman
approve?”

The question burst Fran’s euphoria. Her smile faltered as she propped her lavender parasol against the table and slid into the offered chair. “Randolph has forbid me to speak to Maman about him. He feels it would be better if we appear only to be friends. He’s afraid she will not be pleased.” She reached across the table and grasped the older woman’s hand. “I know you would like Randolph, though. I wish you could meet him. He’s so very smart. He works for the law firm that handles Papa’s accounts. He’s well traveled, and he plays polo.” She couldn’t list his attributes fast enough, so marvelous was her beau. She sighed heavily, unable to contain her yearning. “I can’t wait until he kisses me.”

Madame Aglionby drew back, her arched eyebrows lifted in question. “He has never attempted to kiss you? Does he know of your desire?”

“I . . . I’m not sure.” A heat rushed to her cheeks at her admission. She fiddled with the fine bone handle of the parasol to avert her gaze. “I’m afraid I don’t know how to go about it. Not many men have tried to . . . you know. The ones Maman has chosen for me have been so old.” She shuddered. “I never wanted to encourage their affections.”

She raised her eyes to her French tutor, knowing that she was the only one who could be trusted with her plea. “I’m afraid I don’t know how to go about attracting a man’s notice.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Madame Aglionby laughed, a light, tittering sound of disbelief. Warmth and affection filled her gaze and eased the discomfort of Fran’s confession.

“My dear, you have already attracted a young man’s notice. You need only be yourself and all your wonderful attributes will shine through.”

If only that were true.
“I don’t think I have wonderful attributes,” Fran said. “At least, not the kind that encourage a man in that manner.” She hesitated. “I don’t know how to flirt with a man.” She swallowed. This was the primary reason she had come to visit her old tutor. Looking askance at Madame, she asked the question that had burned deep beneath her stays across the vast Atlantic Ocean. “Can you show me? Maman always said you had a way with men.”

Madame leaned back in her seat. Her lips thinned, her expression suddenly cold and distant.

“I’m so sorry,” Fran gushed, immediately regretting that she had caused displeasure. That had not been her intent. “I’d forgotten that Maman had made those foolish accusations about you and Papa.”

Her former teacher studied her a moment, then the sharp angles of her face softened. “That’s all right, my dear. Had it not been for your mother’s insistence on my dismissal, I would never have met Monsieur Aglionby and established my life here.” She gazed with affection at the shelves of books that reached from floor to ceiling in all directions. “I’m spending my life surrounded by old friends. I’m content. In fact . . .” Her gaze swung quickly back to Fran. “You have, of course, maintained your skills in French?”