When You Wish Upon a Duke by Isabella Bradford

Author:Isabella Bradford
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Historical, Fiction
ISBN: 9780345527295
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Published: 2012-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

Although tonight’s play wasn’t new—a revival of Otway’s old Venice Preserv’d—the famed Mr. Garrick himself was again playing Pierre, one of his best roles. Every ticket was sold, and the crush inside the playhouse was rivaled only by the crowds on foot and in carriages outside in Drury Lane.

“Hurry, March, hurry,” Charlotte said as they slowly made their way up the stairs to Breck’s box. “I don’t want to miss a moment of the play.”

“We’re going as fast as we can, Charlotte,” he said, and in fact they were going faster than most others trying to get to their seats. Not only did they have footmen and ushers before them to clear their way through the crowd—for, as Charlotte was still learning, such was the power of a duke’s rank and wealth—but they’d an added advantage in specifically being the Duke and Duchess of Marchbourne.

March would stand out in any crowd by merit of his height and presence, but tonight, dressed as he was in a magnificent suit of dark red silk, Charlotte was sure he must be the most gloriously handsome gentleman in all London. She liked how he refused to powder his dark hair or wear a fashionable wig, and she liked even more how he smiled only at her, no matter how many others greeted him.

But as she let him lead her through the crowd, she realized that just as many of the people were staring at her. She wore a gown so new that it had been delivered from Mrs. Cartwright’s shop that afternoon. It was her first in the French style, a true robe à la française with a deep square neckline and graceful pleats that flowed down the back, drifting behind her as she walked. The silk was a pale gold stripe with puffs of lace and ribbon zigzagging along the two sides of the overskirt, and there were more ruffles and ribbons on her petticoat. Her stomacher was embroidered with pink silk carnations framed by gold lace, and she’d more lace at the deep cuffs on her sleeves.

Yet as grand as her gown was, it paled beside the earrings that March had presented to her while she’d been dressing. Teardrop pearls swung from clusters of diamonds, the pearls so large that if she’d seen them anywhere else she would have been sure they were glass. Of course they weren’t, not from March. As she’d hooked them into her ears, he’d solemnly explained how the ladies in his family had always been famous for their pearls, and now she would be, too.

Best of all, as she’d sat before her glass after Polly had finished dressing her hair, he’d come behind her. She’d been sure he meant to admire the pearls, but instead he’d bent to kiss her on the nape of her neck, a place so sensitive that she’d gasped from surprise, and spread her fingers with pleasure against the edge of her dressing table.

He’d said nothing, nor had she, but the glances that they’d exchanged in her looking glass had been so intense that she’d blushed.

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