His Pretend Duchess by Sandra Sookoo

Author:Sandra Sookoo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: duke, duchess, Regency romance, stand alone romance, London, Regency romance, fake engagement, false engagement, treasure, inheritance, scandal, gossip, friends to lovers, humor, family, interracial romance, hero of color, black duke, seasoned characters
Publisher: New Independence Books
Published: 2021-08-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

August 7, 1818

Oliver raised a flute of champagne to his lips and took a deep sip. The ball his mother had organized for the gentry and members of the ton in Wiltshire was a rousing success if the crush in the ballroom was an indication. He’d already done the pretty twice over with Marjorie on his arm, and to her credit, she was as vivacious and elegant as he could have hoped. And the way she played up being starry-eyed and enamored of him had him reaching for a glass of whatever spirits he could find, for they both knew it was but a charade.

Yet he couldn’t discount the very real emotions they’d shared yesterday beneath that willow tree when his kisses balanced on the razor’s edge of scandalous, ready to plunge down a slope from which there would be no return. Dear God, how he’d wanted her yesterday! He’d been so hard with lust he’d had to resort to walking it off lest he either embarrass himself by coming in his pants or flipping her skirting up and taking her there like an animal.

Neither of those options would have reflected well on him, and he didn’t want to couple with her like that. It needed to mean more, especially after what she’d told him prior to their heated kisses. He didn’t want to be yet another man who would disappoint her, except...

...he would when the month was up. She wanted to marry, he glimpsed that longing in her eyes, doubted if she’d even been aware she showed it, but did he want that complication? Certainly, he wasn’t in love with her, and she didn’t hold that emotion for him, so why should he take her as a bride when there was no need? Upfront, he’d told her he wanted his grandmother’s property, wished the chance to excavate and see if there were indeed Roman ruins buried beneath the soil as his father had thought.

To say nothing of the fact that he had time to secure a bride and set up his nursery somewhere down the line before he was forty. There was no rush and no immediate urgency to see the end of a bachelorhood he’d yet to enjoy to its hilt.

I have no need of a wife.

As he finished his bubbly wine, he scanned the twirling couples on the dance floor, easily finding Marjorie in the mix. How could he not when she was stunning in a gown of periwinkle silk with a gold sash at her waist and gold beads trimming the hem and bodice of the frock? Her chestnut hair fairly gleamed beneath the candlelight, and damn if he weren’t gripped with the need to see those tresses loose, tumbling down her back so that he could tangle his fingers in them while he....

Quickly, he shook his head to dislodge the randy thoughts before they could take root. Currently, she partnered a country reel with his neighbor, Lord Barrington, the man Miss Bowler had accused of beating her and threatening to kill, the man who would take her child.

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