The Dark Duke
A Most Unsuitable Duke! Adrian Fitzwalter, the Duke of Barroughby, wore the taint of scandal with flair, his very presence charged with the promise of forbidden things. But the gentle Lady Hester knew the rakish pose was only a mask, hiding a desperate and lonely man.With her knowing eyes and quiet beauty, the spinsterish Lady Hester was a far cry from Adrian's usual amours. Yet though her goodness stirred him beyond imagining, he dared not give in to the longing to seek the comfort of her waiting arms, for his happiness would surely be her ruin… .
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“I would not trust you any more than I would your master,”
Hester murmured as she paused to admire the horse.
“Which is to say, not at all, I warrant.”
The duke walked slowly toward her. “Lady Hester, you are an intelligent woman, so I do not expect you to trust me.”
“After yesterday, you can be certain of that,” she snapped, her surprise making her sharp when she would have preferred to sound nonchalant “Good day, Your Grace.” She tried to walk boldly past him, but he stepped into her way.
“There is no need to run off. I promise you I will keep my distance.”
“I am not afraid of you.”
“My dear young woman, are you telling me I am losing my ability to inspire terror and awe in the female breast?”
Dear Reader,
Who would have thought that when we published Margaret Moore’s first book, A Warrior’s Heart, in 1992, we would be publishing her twelfth full novel, The Dark Duke, five short years later. This story is the next in the author’s terrific new series of Victorian romances featuring a trio of “most unsuitable” heroes. This particular hero has a very nasty reputation, but that doesn’t scare our brave heroine, who sees the lonely man behind the handsome facade. Don’t miss this one. And come fall, be sure to keep an eye out for Margaret Moore’s newest short story, “The Twelfth Day of Christmas,” in our in-line THE KNIGHTS OF CHRISTMAS short-story collection.
Sweet Sarah Ross by Julie Tetel, which follows the next generation in the author’s ongoing NORTHPOINT series, is a Western adventure story with enough perils to keep Pauline happy. The Secrets of Catie Hazard, by Miranda Jarrett, is a Sparhawk story, this time with a secret baby and lovers who must overcome not only a troubled past but a turbulent present in order to reunite. And Enchanted from Claire Delacroix is the magic-filled story of a valiant knight who can be rescued from a wicked curse only by the love of a beautiful noblewoman.
All four books this month are ones you won’t want to miss. We hope you keep a lookout for them wherever Harlequin Historicals are sold.
Sincerely,
Tracy Farrell
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Harlequin Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269 Canadian:
P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
MARGARET MOORE
confesses that her first “crush” was Errol Flynn. The second was “Mr. Spock.” She thinks that it explains why her heroes tend to be either charming rogues or lean, inscrutable tough guys.
Margaret lives in Scarborough, Ontario, with her husband, two children and two cats. She used to sew and read for reasons other than research.
For Ruth, Louise, Allison and Amy, the other women in my husband’s life.
Hampshire, 1863
Her Grace, the Duchess of Barroughby, was most seriously displeased.
Lady Hester Pimblett, who had been the duchess’s companion for the past four months, recognized the symptoms at once in the older woman’s compressed lips and furrowed brow.
“Have the goodness to bring the footstool with all speed!” the formidable woman snapped peevishly, her brown eyes full of anger, her white lace cap shaking with rage and her black bombazine dress suddenly looking like armor donned for battle. “And do close the drapes. I am getting a headache!”
At times such as these, Hester pondered the merits of being a companion to an older woman instead of living with her parents or one of her recently married sisters, for as she hurried to her ladyship’s aid, she suspected her efforts to soothe the woman’s perceived ills would be futile. The duchess crumpled a recently received letter in her long, thin fingers and Hester wondered what it contained to bring on this irate response.
The offending epistle appeared to be written in a masculine hand and, judging by the duchess’s extreme reaction, was not from her treasured son. Therefore, Hester concluded, either the writer of the letter, or its subject, was her stepson, the notorious Duke of Barroughby.
Hester moved the footstool so that her ladyship could repose her rather large feet upon it. The duchess was upset if she would recline, for the duchess considered it the height of poor breeding to loll, as she had remarked to Lady Hester any time her young companion seemed to be displaying any predisposition to lean back against a chair.
Hester then closed the heavy damask draperies and prepared the vial of perfume with which the duchess would surely wish to anoint her temples.
“He dares to come to me!” the duchess suddenly exclaimed vehemently. “The scoundrel! The blackguard! His poor father would turn in his grave if he knew even half of what his son has done!”
