Someday Her Duke Will Come
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Someday Her Duke Will Come
Happily Ever After Book 2
Ellie St. Clair
Prairie Lily Press
♥ C opyright 2017 by Ellie St Clair - All rights reserved .
I n no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved .
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F acebook: Ellie St. Clair
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Also By Ellie St. Clair
Standalone
Unmasking a Duke
Happily Ever After
The Duke She Wished For
Someday Her Duke Will Come
Once Upon a Duke’s Dream
Searching Hearts
Quest of Honor
Clue of Affection
Contents
SOMEDAY HER DUKE WILL COME
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
ONCE UPON A DUKE’S DREAM
Prologue
Chapter 1
QUEST OF HONOR
Prologue
Chapter 1
Time of Honor
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
More From Ellie St. Clair
About the Author
SOMEDAY HER DUKE WILL COME
HAPPILY EVER AFTER BOOK 2
1
M atilda Andrews ducked behind another potted fern and caught her breath. Damn if that Heath Cashing was nothing if not persistent .
Her father had given the young man just enough encouragement as to his chances at winning Tillie’s favor, and now he was incorrigible. He’d practically demanded a second dance earlier and it was all she could do to avoid a third before tongues really started wagging about Tillie and her second cousin .
She shuddered in disgust as she fanned herself with a gala program. She was not interested in Heath that way. In any way, actually. He was not only overbearing and obnoxious, but a bore and so preoccupied with trade rates and exchanges that every time he opened his mouth, Tillie had to force herself not to cross her eyes and fall asleep .
From her hiding place, Tillie watched the gathered crowds at the Italian Historical Society Gala. It was a fundraiser disguised as a ball and only the deepest of pockets in London had been invited—which explained her family’s invitation and her father’s insistence that she and her older brother Maxfield attend .
She glanced down at the olive-green ball gown she’d created for herself. The color may have washed out others, but with her warm skin tone and dark chestnut locks, it deepened the royal blue of her eyes beautifully and more than a few heads had turned her way that evening .
She figured they were admiring the gown. While Tillie may have denied her beauty, she was proud of her dress designs, and this had been one of her favorites, one she hadn’t been able to part with and sell to one of the shops in town .
The wide, square neckline revealed just enough to be attractive but not suggestive, and she had designed the short puffs to rest atop sheer long sleeves underneath. The high waistline of the dress flowed down to a skirt that flared in the back, showcasing her feminine form .
Poor Max. There were scores of things her book-wormish older brother would rather be doing than chaperoning his little sister at yet another dance, but there he was, holding the most awkward of conversations with a country curate who’d also found himself invited .
Tillie kept moving, weaving in and out of the mass of bodies who were trying to get closer to the guests of honor seated on a dais at the front of the massive hall. Count Campagna and his wife were politely listening to the overlong stories told by the society’s president, a local baron with loads of money and a wife with a love of opera .
At her very core, Tillie was a student of fashion. She designed dresses and sewed samples, which she provided to the finer dress shops in Cheapside. More than a few collaborations had been struck that way .
It was because of her ability to not only design a gorgeous dress that caught the eye, but to also convince fashion houses to take a chance on her that meant a large number of young debutantes each season wore a gown that Matilda Andrews had designed .
Most of them, however, weren’t aware that the designer of their dresses was the daughter of the shipping magnate Baxter Andrews. She did all she could to keep her two lives separate, wanting to make her own way in the design world .
Tillie herself was not a debutante. Despite the assumption of most that every young lady of eligible age wanted to be primped and prepared like some stuffed doll waiting to be picked as a prize, she wasn’t much interested in being put on display like a mannequin in the dress shops. No, what Tille wanted more than anything else was the freedom to be whoever it was she chose to be .
She squinted, trying her best to get a look at what the countess was wearing. Was fashion ahead or behind London in Rome? She stepped sideways as a short, round man told a rousing tale about hunting and nearly bashed the side of her head with his champagne glass. As it was, liquid sloshed out of the glass, splashing on her face. She blinked as the bubbly alcohol stung her eye .
Tillie squeezed her eyes shut against the irritation of it and put her hands out in front of her as she tried to walk herself back toward the refreshments room. Was she even going the right way? She prayed to the gods of party etiquette that she didn’t knock over a priceless marble statue on her blind and fumbling way to find a napkin somewhere .
It took her a while, but eventually she found her way into the room with the long buffet table and settings of food and drinks. Trying to hold herself together long enough to dab at her eyes with something dry, she smiled lamely at people who tried to make small talk and continued her search .
At last. In the farthest corner of the room, she finally found the linen squares neatly folded and all but hidden from view. It figured .
As she turned toward the corner and dabbed at her eyes, slowly restoring her vision, she laughed softly to herself and thought about the laugh her best friend Tabitha would have enjoyed at the debacle she’d narrowly avoided .
She would be certain to include it in the next letter she penned to the traveling Duchess of Stowe, who was currently in Paris with her Duke of a husband and her plum of a new life. Hers was a fairy tale story with an incredibly happy ending that Tillie was grateful for. It had been a rough few years for Tabitha since her father had died. Wild ups and downs constituted her whirlwind courtship with Nicholas, but it end
ed happily ever after .
It was a beautiful love story that was still unfolding, but it belonged to Tabitha. Tillie swallowed hard at the prospect of her own love story including a man like Heath Cashing in the role of hero and she shuddered .
No — just, no .
As if summoned by her very thoughts, she noticed that Heath had come through the doors that led to the dance floor, his eyes scanning the faces in the room. Searching for her, naturally. Tillie had managed to avoid him for nearly three dances and she knew he’d be more insistent soon. Turning quickly, she ducked into the crowd and kept her face lowered as she attempted to look both natural and invisible. It was a delicate balance she was going for, but when she found herself pushing through the second set of doors that led to another part of the dance floor, Tillie felt almost victorious .
In the span of a quarter hour, she’d not only managed to commit a new dress neckline to memory (thanks to the Italian countess) but she’d also, so far, dodged another stifling, foot-numbing turn about the floor with Cashing .
“Not so bad, old girl,” she whispered to herself. “Still light on your feet when it really counts .”
Casting another glance over her shoulder, she instantly deflated when she saw that Cashing was hot on her trail once more—he’d even caught sight of her and was awkwardly calling after her as she moved .
Tillie rolled her eyes and groaned under her breath, pretending not to hear him as she looked for another avenue. Surely there was somewhere she could escape to that Cashing couldn’t follow ?
In desperation, she turned her eyes to the dance floor. Perhaps she could quickly find herself a new dance partner? Everywhere she looked, however, dancers were already coupled .
“Miss Andrews,” a deep, rich voice, perhaps from Heaven itself and most definitely not belonging to Heath Cashing, came from her left. She turned sharply and nearly smashed her face into a broad chest sporting a fine black suit. Craning her neck up, she instantly recognized the very handsome, very rakish smile of Alexander Landon, newly minted Duke of Barre .
He was the best friend and cousin of Tabitha’s husband Nicholas, and Tillie had spent a charming few days flirting with the duke during the couple’s wedding festivities. She’d nearly gotten lost in his easy smiles and charming lines, but when the couple had left for their honeymoon, Tillie forced herself to come down from the fantasy she’d been living in and return to her world—the real world, where she was the daughter of a rich shipping merchant and he was a peer. A peer who charmed his way through a long line of women .
Tillie had been proud of herself for showing such resolve, too, and had assumed that she was all but over her little crush .
That was until she found herself nose to chest with the very same man .
It had been six months since she’d last seen Alexander and he was still just as gorgeous as ever. He stood well over six feet tall with blond hair pomaded nicely off his face, despite a few strands that fell just over his forehead in an appealing way that never failed to catch her eye. His eyes were a brilliant blue, and from the look of the few adorable freckles that dotted his nose, Alexander had spent his time this summer in the sun .
It suited him, Tillie thought to herself .
“Your Grace,” Tillie said with a dip of her head, her cheeks flushing and her throat constricting. If he noticed her quick reaction to him, Alexander didn’t make it obvious. Without meaning to, Tillie shot a nervous look over her shoulder and saw that Heath was getting closer. Turning back to Alexander, she didn’t miss the predatory smile on his face .
“None of that ‘Your Grace’ with me,” he said. “I feel we know one another better than that. You’re in need of a white knight right now, aren’t you, milady?” The grin that stretched across his handsome features was magnetic and she couldn’t help but give a laugh before remembering Cashing was coming .
“Actually,” she said as she swallowed. “I seem to be .”
“Dance with me?” Alexander offered her his arm and before she could think twice, she took it. Heads turned their way, as they made a striking couple. Tillie’s hair, as dark as Alexander’s was blond, was swept up away from her face into an intricate knot on her head, tendrils of curls framing her face. Her eyes were so blue they were almost violet, her mouth a perfect bow that was now turned up in its natural smile .
As he led her to the dance floor, Alexander’s voice was right next to her ear, sending a shiver across her neck and down her shoulders .
“I’m glad I found you, Miss Andrews. I’ve been hoping to cross paths with you these past few weeks,” he said in a low voice as he steered her closer to the assembling dancers. She looked at him with a question on her face. He’d been hoping to run into her ?
“Why might that be ?”
“Because,” he said as his warm fingers wrapped around her elbow, just before he released her to her spot in the line of dancers. “I have a proposition for you. One that will help us both out of a precarious position .”
With that, he gave a pointed look over her shoulder. Turning to follow his gaze, Tillie saw Cashing standing on the edge of the floor, arms folded over his chest and a frown pasted on his face .
Tillie turned back to Alexander, but before she could question him, the dance began and she found herself moving in the opposite direction .
Damn.
As the dance progressed, she realized she was going to be doing a turn or two with Alexander. Perhaps he’d explain himself a little. When they connected and he held her elbow, he gave her a grin .
“Do you remember what you said to me the last time we spoke ?”
She gave him a quizzical look, but he turned and danced with the partner to her left, as prompted .
The last time they spoke? It was at Tabitha and Nicholas’ wedding, but nothing much stood out. He’d been a flirt, for sure, but Tillie had known better than to fall under the young peer’s charming spell. No, she’d read too many novels about what happened to common girls who put their futures in the hands of wealthy, self-absorbed aristocrats and she had no desire to end up like one of those tragic heroines, who only learn their lessons moments before some gruesome death that usually involved childbirth and a baby out of matrimony .
Tillie shuddered at the thought. Dukes were to be avoided and Tabitha’s luck had been merely a fluke .
She neared Alexander again .
“Well?” He raised an eyebrow .
“We said a great many things, Your Grace,” she said quickly, before they had to change partners again. “You more than most, and yet none of them seem to be very unforgettable. Pray refresh my memory ?”
He gave her a very brief, very fake pained expression before schooling his features as he began dancing with the lady to her right .
“You wound me, Miss Andrews,” he said over his shoulder before continuing the dance with his new partner .
Tillie gave an unladylike snort and quickly shook her head to hide it when her own new partner looked affronted at the dismissive noise .
“Terribly sorry,” she said quickly. “Dust in the air, I believe .”
Appeased, they continued the dance with no additional near-breaches in polite society etiquette. Tillie had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the very notion. These upper crusts were the epitome of savages when it came to the games they played with one another over fortunes, marriages, and reputations .
Polite society, indeed .
“You told me that you had no interest in marrying a duke. Or any other aristocrat for that matter,” Alexander’s low voice was back and he was directly behind her. The combination of the two sent a shiver down her spine. “You called aristocrats shallow and vapid, I believe. Present company included, were your words .”
They turned and faced the far wall and she took the chance to look up into his intense gaze .
“If I may be so bold, I’d like a chance to explain to you that an engagement to a duke could be a very good thing for you and your career .”
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T illie’s eyes widened as she took him in. He seemed to be quite serious and her curiosity got the better of her .
Before they could be swept up in another dance, and before Cashing could find her, she discreetly pulled on the Duke’s arm and steered him toward the large double doors that led to a veranda overlooking the gardens .
Blessedly, the space was empty, but Tillie moved them to a quiet corner between two giant potted ferns, lest prying eyes or a desperate Heath Cashing should try to find them .
“So forward,” the duke smirked as she pulled him into the secluded spot. “We are not even engaged yet, Miss Andrews. Whatever will the people think of the two of us ?”
He was teasing her, that much was obvious by the dancing light in his eyes .
“What are going on about with an engagement to a duke?” Tillie asked him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Are you up to your old tricks again? Is this some kind of ploy ?”
Tabitha had relayed a series of stories over the months about Alexander’s past indiscretions. Nothing so smarmy as abandoned heiresses across London, but he was known as a bit of a rake who had done outlandish things like carousing and gambling just to get under his late father’s skin .