Secrets of an Accidental Duchess by Jennifer Haymore

Author:Jennifer Haymore [Haymore, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: FIC027050
ISBN: 9781455504800
Google: chtAQ1a0wNoC
Amazon: B004RCNGQC
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2012-02-01T06:00:00+00:00

Fenwicke returned to London feeling much stronger. He’d proved his superiority over his wife. True, she was a sniveling, cowering thing, but the way he’d so utterly mastered her reminded him of how strong he really was. He was a powerful man, and he could use that power to finally master the Duke of Wakefield.

He’d succeed this time. He knew it. No longer would Max Buchanan look down that aristocratic nose at him. No, he’d beg for mercy, just like Beatrice had.

Nothing would be better. Not only would it prove, once and for all, that Fenwicke was the superior man, but he’d finally rid himself of the man who just wouldn’t stop pestering him. He would finally move forward with his life with a clean slate, finally free from Max’s tenacious hold on his self-confidence. His long-time nemesis wouldn’t know what had hit him.

Fenwicke dismissed his man with a flick of the wrist, but he didn’t leave his dressing room chair. He studied himself for a long time in the looking glass, pressing on the light wrinkles that had spread across his forehead in the past months. They weren’t so bad. And his eyes still held a dark glint of wickedness. A promise of… more that he knew the ladies couldn’t resist.

He smiled at himself in the mirror. He was still a handsome devil, if he did say so himself.

He rose, adjusted a soft wrinkle in his banyan, and wandered downstairs. He entered his morning room, finding his steaming coffee placed to the left of the morning correspondence, which was to the left of today’s Times, which was to the left of his boiled egg. Everything was as it should be.

He seated himself, spread his napkin carefully across his lap, and smoothed all the wrinkles from it. Then he drank half of his coffee, and when he began to feel it work through him, he filtered through his correspondence. There were only two letters today. One was from his father—the old man who refused to die—and the other was from Brockton Hall.

That was fast. Frowning, he broke the seal and read the childish, nearly indecipherable handwriting of his cook.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.