He wasn’t sure why he’d decided to go this time. Perhaps it was the nagging feeling that had set in of late that something more meaningful was missing from his life. He’d become duke at the tender age of sixteen when his parents had died while crossing the English Channel during a storm. When he’d recovered from his grief, he’d set about enjoying all the benefits of being a young duke. But that had been ten years prior and the things he’d enjoyed had lost their shine.
And so, he’d decided the only answer was to search out even more ruckus fun in the form of Balstead’s party. If he were honest, however, he wasn’t certain the idea sat right in his mind. And so, he’d set out two days later than he’d planned. And he’d taken his time surveying several properties on the trip. And now, it looked as though he’d be delayed again as a fat plop of rain landed on the roof of his carriage.
Perhaps, he shouldn’t go at all. The road he travelled followed along the coast, giving him scenic views of the ocean beyond. At least that’s what some people would think of water. Right now, it was a dark, ominous grey that looked, to him, like a death trap.
He slapped his hand against his knee as more rain began to fall. He wasn’t going forward or turning back tonight. Rapping on the carriage wall, he called to his driver. “Is there somewhere we can stop for the night?”
“Aye, Yer Grace,” the driver called back. “We can keep travelling along this road and get to a little village called Seabridge Gate. It’s quaint and quiet but it’s our best bet for a night’s reprieve from the storm.”
“Sounds good,” he called back, settling into his seat, the knot in his chest unfurling a bit. At least for today, the decision had been made not to go on. But that feeling of relief only lasted for a bit as the rain pummeled the carriage, the wind driving the water near sideways.
Another five minutes passed as Chase watched the ocean, the waves growing large and furious as they beat against the shore but soon the rain dulled even the view of the ocean’s anger.
“Yer Grace,” his driver hollered over the beating wind. “I see a home up ahead. Should we stop and seek shelter?”
He grimaced. The notion of asking a complete stranger for help filled him with dread. Who knew what he would find? “How much longer until we reach the village?”
“I don’t rightly reckon,” the driver answered. “But we’re getting near soaked out here.”
Chase sighed. “You’re right. Let’s stop.” His valet and footman were also in attendance and while the footman was used to such conditions, his valet, Mr. Wendel, was not. Besides, no man should be out in a storm like this.
The carriage pulled up the drive, long and sweeping, rising up a hill. Not only would they be safe from the wrath of the ocean, they’d likely have excellent views. Soon, a stately manor house appeared and in moments, staff flooded out the doors to greet the unexpected guests.
Stepping down from the carriage, he followed a well-trained butler into a large entry. A portly but jovial fellow dressed in an immaculate evening coat swept down the stairs. “Welcome,” he called as if Chase were an expected guest. “Welcome to Highland Manor. I am the Honorable Thomas Moorish. Whom do I have the honor of addressing?”
Chase gave a slight bow of his head, putting on his best dukely façade. “The Duke of Rathmore, at your service.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Your Grace,” he breathed. “What brings you to my humble home?”
Chase’s eyebrows lifted, giving the grand entry a sweep of his gaze. “Your home is lovely and the storm has stopped my travels, at least for the night. I wondered if I might be able to weather its wrath here and impose upon your fine hospitality.”
The other man nodded. “We’d be most delighted to have such a guest.”
Chase nodded again as he noted the we in the sentence. Did the man have a wife? Children? Then something wonderful caught his gaze. At the top of the stairs, one, two, three, four, five ladies appeared. Dressed in a rainbow of pastels, two brunettes, two blondes, and one redhead gazed down at him. At least that’s how it appeared from his spot near the door. He couldn’t quite make out any of them individually but the effect of all five was staggering. Had he wanted to keep driving? Damn fool. This was the perfect spot to weather a storm.
Miss Ophelia Moorish stood at the top of the stairs and gazed down at the young duke. He was the stuff of fairy tales and romances and… She stopped, realizing she was getting carried away.
As a longtime lover of all books, she tended to cast herself as the heroine in the pages and make the people who surrounded her characters in her own story. It had gotten her in trouble on more than one occasion.
For example, last year she’d discovered a gelding that had gotten trapped in the sea grass that stretched for miles when the tide was out. She’d imagined herself the animal’s great rescuer. Instead, it had nearly trampled her in its fear. She had gotten the horse safely out, but she’d suffered a broken arm from the experience.
Drawing a deep breath, she looked at the duke again. He’d removed his hat and dark hair waved back from his forehead and down over his ears. She couldn’t see the color of his eyes, but his jaw was square and his shoulders broad. Her heart hammered in her chest again. He really was like a prince from a story.
And she could swear his gaze followed her every move. Was that her imagination again? She wasn’t certain but her pulse accelerated even more.
“Girls,” her father called from the bottom of the steps. “Come down and meet our guest.”
One of her sisters, likely Bianca, giggled hysterically while Juliet fluttered her hand in the air. Ophelia pursed her lips. Apparently, she wasn’t the only sister who had noticed the handsome duke.
As the eldest, however, she was most entitled to seek his attention. She was nearly two and twenty and still had yet to participate in a proper season. Without a mother and with five sisters, her father hadn’t been able to step away from his business and family in order to take her. Adrianna, her youngest sister, was about to turn eighteen. Her father threatened to unleash them all on London at once. Not conventional, but potentially necessary.
Ophelia sighed. She understood and she agreed. When their mother had passed, she’d taken up the role of mother figure with her young sisters and she didn’t regret it a bit. But lately, she’d begun to wonder about her own future. Would there ever be time for her to find her own husband and have her own family? And what about the adventure of a season? The opportunity to live her own fairy tale before she settled into a future?
She had to confess, she loved children. Even when they cried or acted naughty. Caring for her sisters had been a blessing and she’d gladly do it again.
Her sisters stepped back, allowing her to make her way down the steps first. Gently, she lifted the front of her skirt, giving His Grace her best smile. He smiled back, and she nearly gasped with awe. He had the sort of flashing green eyes that made her heart race in her chest. His nose had a bit of a crook, but that only made him more masculine, while his mouth was full and completely…well…kissable. His shoulders were just as broad as she’d imagined and his skin-tight breeches left little question to the narrowness of his hips and muscles of his legs. His boots were polished to a high shine and she admired them for a moment before she realized she’d just given him a head to toe perusal.
Her gaze snapped back up to his eyes and he quirked one eyebrow as his smile broadened into a knowing grin. Heat flamed in her cheeks.
“Your Grace, this is my eldest daughter, Miss Ophelia Moorish.”
She dipped into a deep curtsy, her cheeks still radiating heat as she murmured, “Your Grace.”
Her father went down the line by age. “My second eldest, Juliet. Then we have Cordelia, Bianca, and lastly, Adrianna.” Each woman curtseyed in turn but Ophelia noted that the duke’s gaze returned to her the moment the introductions finished. Heat spread through her body at his sparkling emerald eyes.
“It’s a pleasure, ladies.” He subtly skimmed his gaze do
wn her frame and Ophelia stared at the wall attempting not to blush again. She had a trim waist but she was fuller in her hips and bosom than most of her sisters. Then he looked to her father. “You sir have been blessed with a beautiful brood of daughters.”
Her father chuckled. “I was handsome enough in my day and my wife, God rest her soul, was a beauty to be certain.”
The duke’s mouth tightened. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Her father waved his hand and the dull ache that always weighed Ophelia down at the mention of her mother, filled her limbs. She knew her father still hurt as well but he gave a small smile.
“Thank you kindly. Loss is never easy but today we have a reason to celebrate. Rarely do we have such a distinguished guest.” Then he turned to his daughters. “What shall we do to turn this storm into a night of merriment?”
Ophelia, stepped forward, giving another small curtsy. “Perhaps we should ask His Grace.”
As she came back up, their eyes met again and her breath stuttered in her throat.
“Dinner would be lovely,” he answered, his deep baritone sending a thrill down her spine and making her stomach flutter.
“We could play music for you,” Cordelia quietly volunteered. Though shy, she spoke best with an instrument and her pianoforte skills were beyond compare.
The duke gave a nod as Juliet clapped her hands. “And we could dance.”
Bianca nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, that would be fun.” Then she turned to the butler. “Would you tell the kitchen we have a guest? And have the music room ready.”
But Ophelia turned to the duke. “Does that suit you, Your Grace?”
The intensity of his green eyes made her cheeks heat again. She truly felt like a princess being discovered by her prince the way he stared at her. Her favorite tale was Cinderseat and she imagined that this was just how Ella felt.
“It sounds lovely,” he said. “I am very much looking forward to this evening.”
So was she. Excitement sizzled along her skin when she thought about dancing with this magnificent man. Tonight felt like the party she’d wanted to attend for so long but hadn’t had the opportunity. Finally, she had a chance to meet her prince.
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www.tammyandresen.com
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About the Author
Tammy Andresen lives with her husband and three children just outside of Boston, Massachusetts. She grew up on the Seacoast of Maine, where she spent countless days dreaming up stories in blueberry fields and among the scrub pines that line the coast. Her mother loved to spin a yarn and Tammy filled many hours listening to her mother retell the classics. It was inevitable that at the age of eighteen, she headed off to Simmons College, where she studied English literature and education. She never left Massachusetts but some of her heart still resides in Maine and her family visits often.
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Find out more about Tammy:
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Read Tammy Andresen’s other books:
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Seeds of Love: Prequel to the Lily in Bloom series
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Lily in Bloom
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Midnight Magic
Other Titles by Tammy
Lords of Scandal
Duke of Daring
Marquess of Malice
Earl of Exile
Viscount of Vice
Baron of Bad
Earl of Sin
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The Wicked Wallflowers
Earl of Dryden
Too Wicked to Woo
Too Wicked to Wed
Too Wicked to Want
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How to Reform a Rake
Don’t Tell a Duke You Love Him
Meddle in a Marquess’s Affairs
Never Trust an Errant Earl
Never Kiss an Earl at Midnight
Make a Viscount Beg
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Wicked Lords of London
Earl of Sussex
My Duke’s Seduction
My Duke’s Deception
My Earl’s Entrapment
My Duke’s Desire
My Wicked Earl
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Brethren of Stone
The Duke’s Scottish Lass
Scottish Devil
Wicked Laird
Kilted Sin
Rogue Scot
The Fate of a Highland Rake
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A Laird to Love
Christmastide with my Captain
My Enemy, My Earl
Heart of a Highlander
A Scot’s Surrender
A Laird’s Seduction
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Taming the Duke’s Heart
Taming a Duke’s Reckless Heart
Taming a Duke’s Wild Rose
Taming a Laird’s Wild Lady
Taming a Rake into a Lord
Taming a Savage Gentleman
Taming a Rogue Earl
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Fairfield Fairy Tales
Stealing a Lady’s Heart
Hunting for a Lady’s Heart
Entrapping a Lord’s Love: Coming in February of 2018
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American Historical Romance
Lily in Bloom
Midnight Magic
The Golden Rules of Love
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Boxsets!!
Taming the Duke’s Heart Books 1-3
American Brides
A Laird to Love
Wicked Lords of London
Earl of Sin: Lords of Scandal Book 6 Page 9
