The Beast's Bid (The Bluestocking War) by Eva Devon & Maire Claremont

Author:Eva Devon & Maire Claremont [Devon, Eva & Claremont, Maire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Historical, Romance
Publisher: Bard Productions
Published: 2023-06-29T18:30:00+00:00

Louisa could not believe what was occurring.

Her entire life was being bandied back and forth as if she was a ball in a game of tennis. It barely felt real. But here she was. It was her life, but it seemed it was to be arranged by others.

It wasn’t right. Though, much to her horror, she realized it was not abnormal. But somehow, she’d assumed that with parents such as hers, she’d be spared this.

But her parents had not planned for their deaths, despite the risks they took in their work, thus leaving her to her uncle through neglect.

Now, the very man who she had come to for aid was not truly able to protect her either. He was passing her off to a duke like a parcel.

Although, if she was honest, that was not true.

Now, as she stood here, she understood. He was already doing everything he could to protect her. He was doing far more than most people would.

Most would have thrown her back out into the street and told her to be gone. She was too much trouble.

Daniel was calling in a powerful man to aid her. A man who far outranked her uncle in every way.

When the Duke of Wildwood entered, she felt his icy presence.

“Your Grace,” she said with a quick curtsy.

He eyed her. “We have not been introduced?”

She shook her head. “My name is Lady Louisa,” she said. “Lady Louisa Templeton.”

His lip curled and he let out a groan. “Dear God. Are you related to that damned man, Lord John Templeton?”

She grimaced. “Yes. You’ve heard of him?”

“I’ve met him,” the duke said with little emotion. “He’s always been a damned nuisance, always mincing about, always bragging, and always losing everything at the tables.”

“That is indeed him,” she said with a sigh.

The duke scowled as he took in her form. “And you’re related to him? I can hardly credence it. You two are so very different in every way.”

“He’s my guardian,” she confessed, though it pained her to have to admit the connection.

“I see.” The duke arched a brow. “And it’s been intimated to me that he’s attempting to make you marry a right bastard.”

“Oh, the man is not a bastard, Your Grace,” she sallied, unable to bear the growing tension.

“Perhaps not by birth,” the duke countered, “but by temperament. That is what our friend Mr. Bedford suggests. From what I understand, Mr. Bedford knows the temperament and inclinations of many a man. And if Mr. Bedford says that the man your uncle wants to marry you to is a villain, I would believe him.”

“I do,” she said quickly, folding her hands before her, rather in awe that she was standing before one of the most powerful men in the country. And Daniel, one of the most powerful men in London.

A week ago, she never could have imagined it.

The duke surveyed them both. “So here we are, the three of us. We all need something from each other, it seems.”

“Yes,” she said, then smiled, though it felt most awkward.

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