Ravenhurst's Return: a steamy dark Regency romance (Disreputable Dukes of Club Damnation Book 1) by Sandra Sookoo

Author:Sandra Sookoo [Sookoo, Sandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: New Independence Books
Published: 2025-02-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

May 27, 1815

Ravenhurst Hall

Bradwell-on-the-Sea

Near Southminster

Essex, England

When Ravenhurst came into the drawing room that afternoon, his steps skittered to a halt when he beheld one of his club members Giles Fitzroy, 3rd Duke of Steppingford, sitting as large as life on one of the sofas with a snifter of brandy in his hand.

“What the devil are you doing here?” He hadn’t seen the duke in years. Hell, it had been the night before he was kidnapped, in fact, for the man was of an age with him, perhaps a year or two older, and he looked it, for grays streaked through his dark brown hair.

And why the hell had Anders admitted him?

“And a good afternoon to you.” The other man didn’t employ enough manners to rise and greet him, but then, the members of Club Damnation were disreputable for a reason. “If you must know, Eggleton sent me.”

“Why?”

“Apparently, he has concerns about your state of mind.” He took a sip of the dark amber liquor as one of his bushy eyebrows rose. “Due to you kidnapping a woman who is someone’s fiancée.”

“Ah.” Heat crept up the back of Alexander’s neck. “Well, that is no concern of yours or his.” In fact, with Steppingford’s presence, his intentions of spending the afternoon in Madeline’s company had been thwarted. And that rubbed him the wrong way. Was she even now in the portrait gallery or had she perhaps decided to go for a walk before the overcast skies released rain from their swollen clouds?

Damn, but enjoying a good fuck in the rain was something he’d not done. Would she embrace such a thing with enthusiasm, or would she call him out? It was always a mystery with her and her tart mouth.

Last night, after he’d laid claim to her body and wrestled with errant emotions that had no place in the revenge scheme, he and Madeline had spent a few hours in the dark of the summer night, listening to the babbling whisper of the stream, and while she’d dozed in his arms, he’d done the same, refusing to think beyond the next three days he’d have with her.

And for the first time in far too many years, he’d been able to relax. It had been unexpectedly refreshing, just as she was.

Steppingford grunted. “From what I managed to discern from Eggleton, you’ve got some rotted idea of revenge in your mind, and you believe that causing the ruination of Inglehart’s fiancée will help achieve that.” It wasn’t a question. “Have you done the deed then?”

The sarcastic inquiry wrenched him from the musings. Slowly, Alexander moved across the room toward the sideboard as he considered how to respond. “I have.” Sticking to the truth as much as possible seemed the lesser of two evils. “Inglehart has some maggot in his head that he only weds virgins, so I took that thrill away from him.” And if he’d managed to impregnate Madeline? His chest tightened and his hand shook as he splashed a measure of brandy into a cut crystal tumbler.

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