He held the glass up to his mouth, then frowned as he spotted the signet ring on his right pinkie.
The signet ring that had belonged to his father, the Duke of Hasford. That was passed on to all the dukes in succession.
He put the glass back down on the table, yanked the ring from his finger, and flung it into the corner of the room.
“Your aim is improving.”
Sebastian heard Nash’s voice before he saw him. His friend was standing in the shadows, as usual, but emerged into the light, holding the ring, his usual grim smile on his lips.
Nash stood as tall as Sebastian, but where Sebastian was lean and elegant, Nash, the Duke of Malvern, was pure force. He looked more like a stevedore than a duke, and he behaved more like one as well, preferring the company of common men to his literal peers.
He’d grown up with Sebastian and Thaddeus, and the three had maintained their close friendship through inheritance, the army, romantic heartbreak, and feckless parents.
“You’ve heard.” Sebastian picked his glass up and drained it as Nash approached.
He poured a glass and handed it to Nash, who took it and drank it all down, barely wincing at the burn of the whiskey.
“I did.” Nash held his glass out for more. “I thought that between you and Thad, you might need me more.”
Sebastian snorted as he poured more liquid into Nash’s glass. “I’m not certain about that. Thaddeus looked as though someone had deliberately disorganized his papers when we heard the news.” He glanced reflexively at the surface of his desk, which was neatly arranged. He hoped his secretary would meet Thad’s exacting standards.
Nash chuckled. “What are you going to do?”
That was the question of the day, wasn’t it? “I don’t know.” Sebastian sat down on the sofa, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “I need to tell Ana Maria. I need to let the staff know, although I suspect the news has already reached them. But first I need to—”
“Get drunk,” Nash supplied. “With me at a place where you won’t run into as many of those condescending pricks.”
“Which condescending pricks?” He waved a hand as Nash opened his mouth. “Never mind, I know you mean all of them. Tell me how you really feel,” Sebastian replied dryly. He sat up, slapping his hands on his thighs. “Your idea is a good one, but I can’t get too drunk because I need to speak with my sister tomorrow.”
Thank goodness Ana Maria was out this evening. He didn’t remember where she had gone, but there was no danger Ana Maria would get in any kind of trouble—his half sister was remarkably staid in her behavior, given how wild her younger half brother was. Or had been, until he’d inherited six months ago.
“Drunk enough to take the edge off then,” Nash said. “Miss Ivy’s, I think. It’s new.”
“As long as there is an abundance of whiskey and a paucity of condescending pricks,” Seb replied.
About the Author
MEGAN FRAMPTON writes historical romance under her own name and romantic women’s fiction under the name Megan Caldwell. She likes the color black, gin, dark-haired British men, and huge earrings, not in that order. She lives in Brooklyn, New York, with her husband and son.
meganframpton.com
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By Megan Frampton
The Hazards of Dukes
Never Kiss a Duke
The Duke’s Daughters
The Earl’s Christmas Pearl (novella)
Never a Bride
The Lady Is Daring
Lady Be Reckless
Lady Be Bad
Dukes Behaving Badly
My Fair Duchess
Why Do Dukes Fall in Love?
One-Eyed Dukes Are Wild
No Groom at the Inn (novella)
Put Up Your Duke
When Good Earls Go Bad (novella)
The Duke’s Guide to Correct Behavior
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from Never Kiss a Duke copyright © 2020 by Megan Frampton.
The Earl’s Christmas Pearl. Copyright © 2019 by Megan Frampton. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers. For information, address HarperCollins Publishers, 195 Broadway, New York, NY 10007.
Digital Edition OCTOBER 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-293184-9
Print Edition ISBN: 978-0-06-293185-6
Cover design by Amy Halperin
Cover illustrations by Gregg Gulbronson
Avon Impulse and the Avon Impulse logo are registered trademarks of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America.
Avon and HarperCollins are registered trademarks of HarperCollins Publishers in the United States of America and other countries.
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