The Perfect Duke Read online

  Marriage by Fate Series: Book 4

  The Perfect

  Duke

  Ruth Ann Nordin

  The Perfect Duke - Smashwords Edition

  Published by Ruth Ann Nordin at Smashwords

  Copyright © 2018 by Ruth Ann Nordin

  Wedded Bliss Romances, LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes:

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Book Cover Design by: Yellow Prelude Design, LLC

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  Coming Next in This Series

  Don’t Miss the Other Books in This Series

  All of Ruth Ann Nordin’s Books

  Where to Find Ruth

  Chapter One

  Author’s Note: This story begins during the time of Make Believe Bride. Lord Whitney and Lady Stacey have just returned from their elopement to Gretna Green. So there’s a little overlap between this book and Make Believe Bride.

  ~~~

  October 1819

  Miss Tara Webb reread Sir Tristan Blakemoor’s missive. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted. He had been her suitor for the past couple of weeks, and she had assumed everything was going well between them. Not once had he voiced a complaint about her. But, just now, he had sent her a missive letting her know he was going to marry Miss Wilmington.

  She set the missive down in her lap and turned her attention to her bedchamber window. Miss Wilmington happened to live just a few townhouses away from her. She wondered what it was about Miss Wilmington he preferred to her. Could it be her looks?

  Miss Wilmington was a stunning blonde. Most gentlemen seemed to like blondes. She’d watched gentlemen at balls, and it appeared that blondes were more likely to get asked to dance. Ladies like herself—those with dark hair—seemed to get passed by. But it was probably more than Miss Wilmington’s hair color that had pleased Sir Tristan Blakemoor. Miss Wilmington was good at flirting, a tactic Tara wasn’t comfortable using.

  If Tara hadn’t approached Sir Tristan Blakemoor while at a ball, she doubted he would have even noticed her. And if Sir Tristan Blakemoor hadn’t found out who her brother was, he probably wouldn’t have even paid her a visit that led to him asking if he could be her suitor.

  However, she wasn’t the least bit heartbroken over losing him. Truthfully, she hadn’t been all that interested in him. He struck her as silly at times, what with his preoccupation over what he should wear or whether he should go to a certain social activity. He was Lady Cadwalader’s nephew, and in so many ways, he reminded her of the countess.

  She’d only considered marriage to him for the benefit of her group. Ladies of Grace was still rebounding from the recent wound it’d suffered when Lady Eloise upset Lady Youngtown. After that, Lady Eloise had been removed from the group, and now it was up to her, Miss Wilmington, and Lady Stacey to bring respectability back to it.

  At least Miss Wilmington was going to marry Lady Cadwalader’s nephew. That would help the group. Tara just needed to find someone else worth marrying.

  She set her arm on the window ledge and peered down the street of London. Carriages rode by, people mingled and talked… Everything was the same today as it had been yesterday and the day before that and the day before that…

  Tara bit her lower lip. Maybe she was in a rut. She’d stuck with the safe and familiar for so long that she didn’t know if she was going about her daily tasks because she wanted to or because she’d always done them.

  She turned her gaze back to the missive. Her brother wouldn’t be happy when he found out about Sir Tristan Blakemoor. He’d been as excited about establishing a rapport with Lord Cadwalader as she’d been to get into Lady Cadwalader’s good graces. And now neither would come to pass.

  She took a deep breath and released it. Well, there was no getting out of telling him. He had to know. Maybe doing so now, before he headed off for the evening to carouse around town with his friends, would be best. Then he could let the brandy take the edge off the bad news.

  Decision made, she left the window and went to find him. When she reached the den, she was surprised to see her brother wasn’t there. She turned back down the hall and searched the other rooms, but he wasn’t in any of those, either. She was sure he’d been in the den before the footman brought her Sir Tristan Blakemoor’s missive.

  Finally, she found the butler and asked him if he knew where her brother was. “He left the townhouse about fifteen minutes ago. He didn’t say where he was going or when he would be back.”

  She sighed. The longer she delayed telling her brother the bad news, the more difficult it was going to be. But, maybe, if fortune was on her side, he would be in a good mood.

  She thanked the butler. She wasn’t sure what she should do until dinner. Her brother might be back by then, or he might not. Sometimes when he left early in the afternoon, he was gone until the next morning.

  She glanced down at the missive in her hand. If it was up to her, she’d throw it away right now, but she had to keep it until her brother saw it. Which meant she had to take it back to her bedchamber.

  With a grimace, she headed for the stairs when someone knocked at the front door. She hesitated. She wasn’t expecting anyone to stop by for a visit, but once in a while, someone did come to talk to her. Usually, it had to do with her brother or Ladies of Grace. Perhaps Lady Eloise was coming by for another round of sympathy.

  She glanced back at the stairs. Should she bolt to her bedchamber now and make up an excuse about having a headache? While she never really did like Lady Eloise, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. Yes, Lady Eloise deserved the black mark on her reputation. There was no denying that. She’d caused a lot of people grief over the years. But Tara wouldn’t want everyone in London shunning her if she’d been in Lady Eloise’s shoes.

  She relented from going up the stairs and waited as the footman answered the door. To her surprise, the Duke of Ravenshire was there. And furthermore, he asked the footman if he could speak with her.

  Eyes wide, she nodded to let the footman know she was willing to see him.

  Miss Wilmington had picked the Duke of Ravenshire to marry because he’d been perfect. He was a duke, he came from a good famil
y, and he had an excellent reputation in London. More than that, however, he was exceptionally good-looking. Dark blond hair, deep brown eyes, high cheekbones, a dimple in his right cheek, and strong, broad shoulders.

  Even if Miss Wilmington didn’t have good taste in fashion, she did have a flair for picking a gentleman. Which further begged the question, why would Miss Wilmington marry Sir Tristan Blakemoor when she could have had the Duke of Ravenshire?

  The duke stepped into the entryway, and his gaze went to her. All at once, her heartbeat picked up and her face grew warm. This was the exact way she’d felt the first time she’d met him. It’d been the day when she, Miss Wilmington, and Lady Stacey took a walk in Hyde Park with their suitors.

  At the time, she’d thought she’d felt the unexpected spark with the Duke of Ravenshire because she was nervous to be going into a public outing after Lady Eloise tarnished the group. Every little thing she’d said and done was either going to help or hurt the group, so she’d been very careful to be on her best behavior that day, something which had been stressful.

  Now she realized it hadn’t been her apprehension over saving the group that made her experience the unfamiliar spark of excitement. It’d been the duke who’d been responsible for it.

  The duke bowed. “Miss Webb, it’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but she realized her throat was unusually dry. Sure her face was red from embarrassment, she swallowed. Then, remembering her manners, she hurried to offer a curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, too, Your Grace.”

  He smiled, and silly as it was, she actually felt weak in the knees. What was happening to her? She was certain she hadn’t experienced such weakness before. If she didn’t know any better, she’d assume she was coming down with a malady.

  “May I have a moment of your time?” the duke asked.

  Since she was still finding it hard to speak, she nodded and gestured to the drawing room. When she realized he was going to follow her, she quickly made her way to the room, very much aware that he was close behind her. Her skin warmed, and there was an unexpected flutter in her stomach.

  The butler asked her if she wanted anything to eat or drink, so she glanced at her guest.

  His eyes widened. “Oh. Well, if it’s up to me, I’d like black tea with lemon in it.” His gaze went back to her. “Is that all right?”

  She nodded. “Y—” She cleared her throat. “Yes, that will be fine.”

  After the butler left, she gestured for him to have a seat then she sat in the chair next to him. She didn’t recall it being so warm in this room. It was October. It should be nice and cool in here. She waved the missive in front of her.

  “You got one, too?” the duke asked.

  She turned her attention to him. “Pardon?”

  He pulled a missive from the pocket inside his frock coat and unfolded it. “I recognize the stationary of the missive you’re holding. Did Miss Wilmington write to you, too?”

  She looked at the missive in her hand as if seeing it for the first time. “Oh!” With all of the activity, she’d forgotten all about it. “No. Sir Tristan Blakemoor wrote it.” Her gaze shifted to the missive in his hands. “You said Miss Wilmington wrote that one?”

  “Yes. I received it an hour ago. She said she’s marrying Sir Tristan Blakemoor. They already got a special license.”

  “My missive says the same thing, only Sir Tristan Blakemoor was the one who wrote it.”

  “I must say that I’m surprised. I didn’t think they were interested in each other.”

  “I didn’t, either.”

  “Are you heartbroken over it?”

  She should probably say yes. It seemed rude not to express some kind of sorrow over the loss of a suitor, but it was hard to be upset about anything when the duke was looking at her with those beautiful brown eyes. She wanted nothing more than to have a portrait of him in her bedchamber so she could always look at him.

  Realizing she was staring at him, she quickly averted her gaze. “No, I’m not,” she admitted. “The truth is, I wasn’t really that interested in him.”

  “You want to know something? I wasn’t all that upset to find out Miss Wilmington wasn’t interested in me, either.”

  Surprised, she looked at him. “But you two seemed to get along wonderfully when we were at Hyde Park.”

  “We did, but then I get along with almost everyone.” He shrugged as he folded the missive. “It doesn’t mean I become good friends with them, and, as you can see, it doesn’t mean I end up marrying someone. Getting along with someone is easy. You stick with pleasantries and let the other person do the talking. If you ask questions about someone, they’re often more than happy to engage in a conversation with you.”

  Her eyebrows furrowed. “They are?”

  “It’s a trick I learned from my father. He could charm anyone.”

  She had no doubt that he was telling her the truth. Just being near him felt like a wonderful honor. No wonder she’d enjoyed the walk in Hyde Park so much.

  The butler returned to the room with the tea and placed the set in front of them. He poured tea into their cups and left the room.

  The duke handed her one of the cups, and his fingers brushed hers. Sparks shot straight from her fingers, up her arm, and down her back. Startled, she almost dropped the cup, which resulted in him cupping his hands around hers so that she didn’t spill tea anywhere.

  “Sorry about that,” the duke said. “I thought you had it.”

  Once more, her face flushed with heat, and she couldn’t tell if it was from his touch or from embarrassment. It was probably from both.

  Hoping she didn’t come off as awkward as she felt, she smiled. “I got it. I won’t drop it.”

  Returning her smile, he released her hands. Right away, she missed the feel of his hands on hers. He wasn’t only gorgeous, but he had a marvelous touch as well. She’d never come across a more perfect gentleman. What was Miss Wilmington thinking when she turned down the chance to marry him? Sir Tristan Blakemoor wasn’t nearly as exciting as the Duke of Ravenshire was.

  Pushing the question aside, she made herself take a sip, praying he didn’t notice the way her hands shook.

  Could it be possible she was falling in love with him? No. That was silly. She barely even knew him. Love wasn’t something immediate. It took time. What she felt was attraction, and attraction was something that could happen right away.

  He took a sip of his tea then asked her, “What do you think?”

  “Of what?”

  His lips curled up, revealing his dimple. “The tea. Have you ever had black tea with lemon?”

  Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t. No wonder the tea tasted different. She’d always had her black tea plain, but then, that was more her style. She didn’t make it a habit of experimenting with new things. The safe and familiar had suited her just fine. But, she had to admit that the lemon was a nice addition.

  “No, but it’s good,” she told him.

  “I’m glad you think so. I like to try new things. I put cinnamon, ginger, peppermint, and honey in my tea, but my favorite thing to add to it is lemon.”

  “I suppose you think I’m boring because I drink my tea plain.”

  He chuckled. “I think most people stick with what they like. There’s nothing wrong with it. If something’s working, then there’s no point in changing it.”

  When he put it that way, she didn’t feel quite so boring.

  He drank more tea and then set the cup down. “May I be bold in my speech?”

  Not sure what he was getting at, she lowered the cup from her lips and hesitated. Was this something bad? She had no idea what he had on his mind, but it could be something unflattering. Perhaps Miss Wilmington had told him something unfavorable about her. She didn’t delude herself into thinking Miss Wilmington really liked her.

  Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “You may.”

  “It’s nothing bad, I assure you.�
�

  His smile put her at ease, and she relaxed.

  “I know Sir Tristan Blakemoor was your suitor,” he said. “Are there any others?”

  Surprised, she shook her head. “No. He was the only one.” Maybe she shouldn’t have said that. It probably made her seem pathetic. Here she was, well into her third Season, and she hadn’t taken a husband yet. “I’m putting all of my time and attention into Ladies of Grace. Are you aware of what happened between Lady Eloise and Lady Youngtown?”

  “Yes, I heard about it.”

  “My goal is to get the group back to the respectability it used to have.”

  “Would marriage to a titled gentleman of good reputation help you do that?”

  She bit her lower lip. How much did she want to tell him? The only reason she’d even talked to Sir Tristan Blakemoor in the first place was for the sake of the group. But should he know that?

  “The truth is,” he began, interrupting her thoughts, “my father died with a significant amount of debt. Please don’t tell anyone. I’ve kept it all carefully concealed because if word gets out in London, it could ruin my family. I have a mother and two younger sisters to think about.”

  “Did you tell Miss Wilmington about this?”

  “No. I thought I could secure a marriage to her without saying anything. It’s no secret that her family is one of the wealthiest in London.”

  Oh. So he was only with Miss Wilmington because of her family’s money. She would never have guessed that was the case. When they were at Hyde Park, he seemed to genuinely care for Miss Wilmington. Apparently, one of his attributes included the façade of sincerity. But she couldn’t fault him for that. How many times had she pretended to like the same things Lady Eloise did? And how many times had she and Miss Wilmington pretended to like each other because they wanted a place of prominence in Ladies of Grace? If anything, she was just as insincere as he was.