Dukes by the Dozen

by Grace Burrowes

  Taylor placed a kiss on the arm she’d been using as a pillow before turning in the small space and facing him. “When are we to wed?”

  He ran his thumb over her swollen lips and kissed her forehead. “We’re in Scotland, so today, if that suits you. Unless you’d like to have your family present.”

  “I don’t.” Her answer was quick and definite. “You’re my only family from now on. You are my today, my tomorrow, and my future. You’re the only one I need.”

  Bamberg pulled her tightly against him. Her words warmed his heart. He thought of their future and all the years they would have together, enjoying each other and all the places they’d go.

  “And wherever you wish to go, I want to be there with you.”

  She’d read his mind. “Someday soon, whether or not we are blessed with a child, I’d like us to live in Bavaria, if that is acceptable to you.”

  “I’d like that,” she whispered. “But right now, I don’t think your mind is on travel or your estates in Bavaria.”

  Some things could not be hidden when two bodies lay pressed together in a narrow bed.

  Her fingers trailed downward over the hard muscles of his stomach until she reached the front of his breeches. The hardness and size of him must have startled her, for she immediately withdrew her hand. But an instant later, she sought him out again—timidly, slowly, feeling him, exploring him. A low groan of pleasure emitted from deep within him, and this appeared to give her the courage that she needed.

  “I haven’t forgotten all the times you said last night that we have to wait to make love until we’re married.” She rolled him back and climbed on top of him.

  “Then what is it you have in mind right now?”

  “Doing to you a little of what you’ve been doing to me.”

  Bamberg pushed the blanket off her shoulder and lifted his head to her breasts, taking her sweet flesh into his mouth. But she was clearly determined not to allow him to lift her alone into a state of bliss. Not this time. Coaxing him back to her lips, she seduced his mouth with her lips and tongue and with soft murmured cries in her throat. Before he could recover from that, she was undoing the buttons of his breeches.

  Bamberg was lost the moment she reached inside and wrapped her fingers around him. All the strength and self-control he’d employed last night was gone. He’d never be able to hold back now.

  “Hullo?” a voice called from outside the cottage. “Is someone here?”

  Chapter 6

  How to Ditch A Duke

  – Step 6 –

  Pack for Foreign Climates

  * * *

  Oliver Pennington McKendry came into the world in the wee hours of the morning with a healthy cry of protest after nearly twenty hours of labor. Immediately following the birth, Dermot and an exhausted Millie took a few moments alone, holding their infant son and admiring the perfection of the wrinkled face and hands and feet.

  Soon after, the grandparents were allowed in. And shortly after that, the baby was taken briefly to the Great Hall to meet the other members of the Pennington family who were continuing to arrive. Aunts and uncles and cousins lined up to view the infant.

  It was sometime in the middle of the day when Dermot and Millie looked at each other and remembered the friends they’d left out on the small island in the loch.

  “After what I’ve done to her,” Millie said unhappily, “Taylor will surely never speak to me again.”

  “No doubt,” Dermot agreed dolefully, before adding brightly. “But the silver lining in that cloud is that we’ll be drinking fine Bavarian wines until we’re old and grey. Bamberg will now be certain that I’m his best friend.”

  Receiving a slap on the arm, he immediately went down to send a groom off after the duo. But he only got halfway to the stables when he espied his uncle, Blane McKendry. The minister was approaching from the direction of the loch. And he was walking with two people.

  Lady Taylor Fleming and Franz Aurech, the Duke of Bamberg.

  And they both appeared to be extremely jovial. In fact, Dermot noticed they were holding hands.

  “Ah, nephew,” the cleric called out as they approached. “We have cause for celebration.”

  “Indeed, we do,” Dermot replied, shading his eyes against the sun and trying to avoid looking at the two island castaways. “And it’s a fine day for a celebration.”

  He wondered how his uncle heard about the baby. He hadn’t sent word to the village, but thankfully, someone had done it.

  “After the storm last night,” Blane McKendry began, “I knew that old George Hanover, that monster of a pike the Squire and I have been angling for since you were a lad, would surely be rising for a fight. You remember last year the Squire nearly had the blackguard, but the beast tore the rod right out of his—”

  “I recall, Uncle. It was an epic battle.” Fishing. Island. It now made sense how these three were together.

  “Aye, so this morning I rowed out to the island. Thought the Squire would already be there, but I beat him to it.” The minister smiled with obvious satisfaction. “Then, just as I was going by the cottage, I saw a few wisps of smoke and realized someone was in there. And who should answer my call but these two fine people.”

  Dermot hazarded a glance at them. Standing arm in arm, they appeared to be unperturbed by the story. Whatever response Millie feared from her friend, it didn’t show in Taylor’s shining face.

  “And once we shook hands all around, what do you think they asked me?”

  “For a fish to fry up for breakfast?”

  “Nay, lad! A wedding!” The minister beamed at his companions.

  “I asked your uncle to marry us today,” Bamberg announced, clapping his friend on the shoulder.

  Taylor held onto the duke’s arm and smiled happily at the minister. “Your good uncle here has given up a day of angling in order to officiate at our wedding. And we’re hoping you and Millie will stand up for us as witnesses.”

  Bamberg nodded. “We should like to be married at once. Do you mind, McKendry? Do you think Lady Millie would mind?”

  Millie would be thrilled. And how appropriate that these two should want to be married now, without Taylor’s horrid father and brother present. Very satisfying, indeed.

  “Not at all. I’m certain she’ll be delighted,” he replied. “Come inside. I have some news of my own to convey.”

  They’d done it. Millie’s perception of her friend’s true feelings, added to his own cleverness in giving them time alone, had kept a duke from being ditched.

  The Duke and Duchess of Bamberg. It certainly had a fine ring to it.

  Author’s Note

  We hope you enjoyed How to Ditch a Duke.

  As many of you know, our characters live and breathe for us. At the end of the Pennington Family series, many of our readers wrote to us asking if some of the family members could come back in future stories. Well, this was a little teaser. Those of you who have read our previous novels and novellas will remember Millie and Dermot from Dearest Millie.

  Here is a listing of other books involving the Penningtons:

  The Promise

  The Rebel

  Borrowed Dreams

  Captured Dreams

  Dreams of Destiny

  Romancing the Scot

  It Happened in the Highlands

  Sweet Home Highland Christmas

  Sleepless in Scotland

  Dearest Millie

  And we’re not done. You’ll be seeing the Penningtons again.

  This Spring, our novel Highland Crown serves as the start of our Royal Highlander series. In this exciting trilogy, three extraordinary women in the Highlands of Scotland find the courage to defy the world at a tumultuous moment when a new Scottish identity will be forged or a political assassination will divide a nation forever.

  * * *

  Please sign up for news and updates and follow us on BookBub. You can also visit us on our website.

  * * *

  Pe
ace and Health,

  Nikoo and Jim (writing as May McGoldrick).

  TO TEMPT A HIGHLAND DUKE

  August

  Bronwen Evans

  Preface

  Widowed Lady Flora Grafton must be dreaming…Dougray Firth, the Duke of Monreith, the man who once pledged her his heart and then stood by and allowed her to marry another, has just proposed. While her head screams yes, her heart is more guarded. Why, after eight years, this sudden interest? When she learns the truth… can she trust Dougray to love her enough this time?

  Prologue

  Fenworth House, Perth, Scotland 1814

  Dougray Firth, Viscount Crew, enjoyed the quiet of the late hour, or early morning, whichever way you chose to look at it. He took another swig from the near empty bottle of whisky in his hand and looked up at the night sky.

  Fate was a bastard. He’d known that for years, but tonight it stabbed him hard.

  On this warm summer night he sat on the terrace of Fenworth House, the Earl of Fenworth’s countryseat, cursing his father the Duke of Monreith. His best friend’s little sister, Flora, the woman he thought he would marry, was to be wed in the morning but not to him.

  And whose fault was that?

  He closed his eyes and sighed, letting the whisky wash away the terrible memories of six years ago. He’d been eighteen and his father’s meddling had destroyed his world.

  He wanted the whisky to give him courage. To give him the courage to give his father exactly what he wanted—Dougray’s agreement to wed Flora instead. Doing so the day of her wedding would be a scandal, but they would live that down.

  He also knew Flora would eagerly forego Lord Grafton if he asked her to marry him instead.

  But he couldn’t marry her.

  He loved her. She was his best friend. The only woman who got him through Connie’s death and the one person who had not let him give up on his search for his son, the son the Duke had taken from him.

  Because Dougray loved her he would let her go.

  For to marry her could sign her death warrant.

  He took another long slug from the bottle still in his hand. The fiery liquid burned his throat; that is what brought tears to his eyes.

  He wiped his face with the sleeve of his linen shirt.

  He sat consumed by misery when out of the corner of his eye he saw a ghostly figure slip through the front entrance and walk into the rose garden that led down to the small pond at the front of the estate.

  He knew who it was and where she was going.

  Dougray knew this house better than his own. He’d spent more time here than at his father country estate. Angus Mackenzie, the Earl of Fenworth’s son was his best friend and Flora’s older brother.

  He told himself not to follow, but his feet did not want to listen. The almost empty bottle fell to the terrace as he set off in pursuit.

  He didn’t catch up to her until she had reached the summerhouse. This is where they’d come to be alone. To share their hopes, fears, and dreams. It was where six months ago he had stolen his first kiss from her.

  She was sitting on the bench in her nightgown, her knees drawn up to her chest with her head resting on them. He heard a sniff and realized she was crying. The sound made him almost double over with pain.

  “Don’t cry, sweeting.”

  Flora jumped at the sound of his voice. She had not heard him enter, so lost in her own misery.

  “Go away, Dougray. I want to be alone.”

  He reached her side but could not bear to touch her. “Iain is a nice man. Will becoming his wife be so terrible?”

  She looked up, her eyes awash with pain. “He’s not you.”

  He crouched down in front of her. “I cannot marry you. I just can’t.”

  She studied his face and he did not hide the tear that slipped from his eye.

  “This past year I really thought you had finally gotten over Connie’s death. I thought you’d opened your heart to me. We shared our hopes for the future. You let me fall in love with Connor as if he were my own wee boy. Just tell me why?”

  He had no words. Instead he leaned forward and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to her lips.

  “Do you hate your father so much that you’d use me as a pawn to hurt him. Is it because he is desirous of our match that you purposely opposed it?” Her sorrow was now replaced with anger. “I hate you Dougray Firth. I hate you for making me fall in love with you. For giving me a dream and then taking it away. Just go away before you break my heart completely.” Her head lowered to her knees and she began sobbing.

  He couldn’t stand it. He reached down and scooped her into his arms and took her place on the bench, placing her in his lap. She did not stop crying. She merely buried her face against his chest and sobbed.

  He sat there gently rocking her and wished things could be different. He wished he didn’t love her so much. But it was because he loved her he would let her go. Seeing her married to another would be his living hell but at least she would be alive and he would be able to see her occasionally.

  He didn’t know how long they sat there. Eventually her sobbing stopped and she fell asleep in his arms.

  He pressed a kiss to her head and imprinted the feel of her into his memory and heart.

  Finally as dawn began to break he carried her back toward the house. He was halfway through the rose garden when Angus appeared.

  “Give her to me.”

  He didn’t want to but he knew Angus was angry and hurt. He gently passed Flora to her brother. She didn’t even stir.

  Angus shook his head. “I don’t know why you are doing this. If I believed like most that it is to get back at your father I would beat you until you could not walk for days. But I know it is something else. I hope one day you will have the decency to tell me why.”

  Angus turned his back to enter the house. He stopped with his foot on the first step. “I think it best you leave immediately after the wedding breakfast. And I need some time to get over this.”

  He knew his friendship with Angus would never be the same.

  He’d lost two friends this night.

  Chapter 1

  Edinburgh, August 1822 - eight years later

  “Would you please stop giggling, and come and help me with the table setting,” Lady Flora wished Sarah, the young serving girl standing in the corridor was a little less attractive. Sarah turned many a man’s head, too beautiful for her own good. Flora would remind Lady Mary to ensure the youngest and prettiest girls were locked well away from the powerful men who were arriving tomorrow.

  The King being one of them.

  Palace of Holyrood House was in the middle of a spring clean. For the first time in almost two centuries the King would be stepping onto Scottish soil and Lady Flora was lucky enough to have been invited to witness and part-take of the occasion. She’d been asked to oversee the dinning room decorations and table settings for the dinner that was to occur here in two nights time.

  Sarah scurried forward, approaching the large dining table dominating the room. “I’m sorry, my lady. I have ironed the other tablecloths as requested but I need one of the men to carry them for me. They’re really heavy.”

  “I can fetch them for you, pretty Sarah.” The young male voice from the corridor revealed all. Flora wanted to roll her eyes. No wonder Sarah had been in the corridor giggling. Young Conner Firth leaned in the doorway, his eyes flirting with Sarah, and she was mesmerized by the handsome lad; as most of the serving girls, and even some of the palace ladies were.

  Dougray had been only eighteen when Connor was born. It seemed so long ago now. At fourteen years of age, and yet almost six feet tall already, Connor, with his father’s black hair and piercing blue eyes, was beginning to fulfill her expectations of being a heart breaker. Connor took after his father in more than just looks it would seem. He loved the bonny lasses.

  “Connor Firth. I’m sure your father has more important tasks for you than pestering the serving girls,” Flora scolded. />
  “Oh, Lady Flora, you know you are still my favorite,” and he laughed in his still to fully deepen voice.

  She swung round with hands on her hips. “I remember a time when I put you over my knee. You’re not too old for me to do that again.”

  This time he uncrossed his arms and winked at her. “I might just enjoy that.”

  God help her, but she could feel her face flush with color. Oh, to be a young girl again. Connor certainly made her feel old, and yet she had only just turned eight and twenty.

  A respectable age for a widow, but too young to stay a widow for the rest of your life.

  “If your father catches you wasting time here there will be hell to pay.”

  At her words his smile dimmed slightly.

  She turned to Sarah who was still standing there playing with her hair. “Go and get two of the laundry lads to help you.”

  Sarah sighed as she slipped past Connor who’d stepped further into the room to let the young girl past. Flora was pretty sure she saw Connor’s fingers pinch her bottom as Sarah slipped out of the room.

  “You should not be encouraging them, Connor. You of all people know the consequences for these young girls when they have been trifled with.” Connor’s mother had been a serving girl just like Sarah.

  He could not look her in the eye. “Tis’ only a bit of fun.”

  “You are the Duke of Monreith’s son, that alone is enough to turn a girl’s head, let alone the fact you have your father’s good looks.”

  “You forgot to say illegitimate son.” Connor’s eyes flashed with fire.

  Flora walked to stand in front of him. “Your father loves you. He recognized you. He gave you his name. As far as most are concerned you are a duke’s son. So start acting like one.”