Wish Upon a Duke
Page 1
Wish Upon a Duke
12 Dukes of Christmas #3
Erica Ridley
Contents
Wish Upon a Duke
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Thank You For Reading
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Jewels of Historical Romance
ISBN: 1943794189
ISBN-13: 978-1943794188
Copyright © 2018 Erica Ridley
Photograph on cover © PeriodImages
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
Wish Upon a Duke
Love, actually…
* * *
Rumor has it, charming adventurer Christopher Pringle is finally ready to settle down. He’s searching for a free-spirited bride to join him on his travels. But when the matchmaker he hires turns out to be the woman he had a public spat with the day before, nothing goes as planned!
* * *
Miss Gloria Godwin loves exploring the world… from the safety of a book. She detests her dashing client’s attempts to force her from her comfort zone. It should be easy to marry off the handsome heir to a dukedom. But the more she tries to match him to other women, the harder it gets to say goodbye.
* * *
The 12 Dukes of Christmas is a laugh-out-loud historical romance series of heartwarming Regency romps nestled in a picturesque snow-covered village. After all, nothing heats up a winter night quite like finding oneself in the arms of a duke!
Love romance? Have a free book, on me!
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Chapter 1
Marlowe Castle
Christmas, England
“This way, please.” Miss Gloria Godwin ushered this month’s crop of stargazers away from the light spilling from the castle’s front doors.
This evening, only a dozen individuals braved the crisp winter weather in search of stars. The few Gloria did not recognize were tourists. Each time she took a new group, she hoped the future love of her life would be among them.
Cupid hadn’t struck yet, but surely it was just a matter of time.
The town of Cressmouth was better known as Christmas. Their perpetually snow-dusted mountaintop village was a favorite holiday spot for those willing to trek up to the northernmost corner of England to enjoy its charms.
The majority of faces in tonight’s crowd belonged to children of local parents taking advantage of a free hour whilst their offspring were entertained elsewhere. Some of the children had attended these outings since they started. By now, they were old friends.
“For those of you joining us for the first time,” she began with a smile, “welcome to the sky-walk. Tonight, we will exercise our brains as well as our legs, as we—”
“May I tell?” A young girl with a woolen cap and thick scarf bounced on her toes.
Gloria gave an encouraging nod. “Go ahead, Annie.”
“On the first walk, we learn the names of the stars and the stories behind their constellations.” Annie’s eyes sparkled. “And on the second walk—”
“We get to make up our own!” six-year-old Nigel blurted out in glee. “We can even wish upon a star!”
“That’s right,” Gloria said with a laugh. “If this is your first time star-gazing, memorizing hundreds of names and configurations can seem overwhelming. But never fear! Raise your hand if you’ve ever lain on grass in order to pick out shapes in the clouds.”
Everyone lifted a fur muff or a woolen mitten.
“Star-gazing is similar.” Gloria smiled at her group. “Should you forget the North Star is Polaris inside Ursa Minor, you may remember a simpler story and still be able to find the right direction when you need it.”
Two of the tourists exchanged a loving look. Their obvious romantic connection warmed Gloria’s heart.
“Miss Godwin’s father was a Captain for the Royal Navy,” Annie gushed. “He taught her everything.”
Gloria swallowed a lump in her throat at the reminder. “And Annie was my very first sky-walker. She’ll be happy to answer questions, too. Shall we wait another moment in case there are latecomers?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the castle entrance and forgot whatever else she’d been about to say.
The dashing Mr. Christopher Pringle was standing at the open doors, bathed in light from the crystal chandeliers just inside. She had almost had a chance to meet him two weeks ago, during a party at the castle to celebrate her friend’s latest perfume.
Instead, she’d remained a wallflower. There had been no one to properly introduce them. All she could do was admire him from afar.
And, oh, was there plenty to admire.
Dark brown hair. Snowy white neckcloth. Black superfine coat cut to accentuate broad shoulders. Gorgeous buckskins that clung to the muscles of his legs. Gleaming Hessians. Adonis, come to life.
Her pulse skipped. Was he coming on her tour? Would she finally get to meet him?
Until a fortnight ago, all she knew about Christopher Pringle was hearsay and a too-brief listing in Debrett’s Peerage. His elder brother was London’s most infamous rake and heir presumptive to a dukedom, making the younger Mr. Pringle second in line to their cousin’s title.
Like his rakish brother, he spent his Seasons in London and was every bit as mind-meltingly handsome in the flesh. There the similarities ended.
While his brother’s infamy was due to countless seductions in Society boudoirs, Christopher Pringle was far more mysterious. His name never graced scandal columns, and his antics—whatever they might be—had not once been immortalized in a penny caricature.
Gloria’s heart stopped. He was looking right at her.
She forced her suddenly frozen features into a welcoming smile.
He didn’t smile back.
She added an encouraging wave of her fingers. A friendly little come-on-over, the-stars-are-fine. And an even wider smile.
His expression did not change.
He didn’t see her, she realized in mortification. He was staring right at her, but his mind was on something more interesting, his thoughts a thousand miles away.
“Miss Godwin?” one of the tourists asked hesitantly.
Gloria’s cheeks flushed with heat. Heaven help her. The group had caught her gawking at one of the castle guests as though he were a celestial being she’d just discovered.
“Let’s go,” she said quickly, hurrying them out of sight from the castle doors before she could make a bigger cake of herself. “Overhead, do you see the three bright stars in a crooked line?”
The only reason Gloria was able to give a flawless introduction to the stars visible in tonight’s sky was because she knew each one as if it were family. Their habits, their secrets, in which positions
and seasons they were most likely to appear. None escaped her notice.
Her smile faltered. Perhaps she felt such a kinship with the stars because she, too, was always present and just as forgettable.
As they did with the constellations above, gentlemen might repeat her name, possibly even note her general appearance, and then immediately confuse her with any other nondescript young lady they’d ever met. Time after time, they looked right at her without ever registering what they were seeing.
Exactly like Christopher Pringle.
Her chest tightened. Just once, Gloria wished a gentleman would become entranced with her at first sight. Or speak to her. Or recall her enough to pick her out from a crowd. It would be the first step toward finding love.
“The constellation to the right,” she continued, “is known as Leo. Who can tell me what’s special about this formation?”
That was what she wanted. To be special. To be remembered. To be actively sought out.
And yes, a part of her hoped whoever finally noticed her would be as dashing as Mr. Pringle.
“Imbecile,” she muttered.
The tourists snapped startled gazes in her direction.
“I said ‘sea serpent,’” she corrected smoothly, pointing overhead. “Some know the constellation Hydra by that name. If you trace the undulating pattern…”
Clearly, Christopher Pringle was in no danger of falling in love with her at first sight. She was not as distraught as might be expected, given how much she yearned for her happy ever after.
Mr. Pringle was an unknown factor. Handsome but risky.
Despite him arriving in town two weeks earlier, one of the reasons Gloria hadn’t contrived to throw herself directly in his path was the possibility that he was as transient as his rakish brother.
But now that England’s most unrepentant rake appeared to be falling tail-over-teakettle in love with her dear friend Penelope, Gloria couldn’t help but reconsider. Better yet, she would soon have someone who could introduce her to gentlemen like Mr. Pringle.
If it happened under exactly the right circumstances… well, a dreamer like Gloria wasn’t ready to rule out love-at-second-sight quite yet.
“And lastly,” she said as they neared the end of the first trek about the castle, “who can tell me the name of this handsome beast in the northern sky?”
“Duke!” Nigel blurted in triumph.
“We’re not doing wishes yet,” Annie scolded him, then puffed out her chest. “Draco, the dragon.”
“Just so.” Gloria lifted her palm toward the stars. “The curve to the right represents—”
“Why did he say ‘Duke?’” asked one of the tourists.
“He’s ahead of the game.” Gloria pinched Nigel’s grinning cheek. “When I was little, I misheard several constellation names, and believed for years that ‘Draco’ was actually ‘Duke’. My father found my mispronunciations amusing and adopted the new names as a private joke.”
“He taught you to always wish upon a star,” Annie said.
“That’s right. And I always choose Duke. The creature right up there.”
Every single night. Gloria smiled up at the stars. One day, it would be her turn.
“Is it time to make a wish?” Nigel begged. “Please?”
“Very well,” she answered with a laugh. “We’ll take our second tour in the opposite direction, so that we may start with Draco. Do you see a dragon?”
“I see a duke,” he answered immediately. “Just like you. And I wish for a hobbyhorse.”
Annie rolled her eyes. “You always wish for toys. I wish for a rapier, so I might learn to fence.”
“That’s not practical at all,” laughed one of the other girls. “I wish for an embroidery set.”
“What a charming custom!” A lady tourist lay her head on her husband’s shoulder as they stared up at the sky together. “No wonder people fall in love with this quaint village.”
Nigel turned to face her. “But what do you wish for?”
“Why, to stay here forever,” the lady answered immediately. She gazed at her husband. “Darling, we must purchase a local cottage so that we have a permanent home here in Christmas.”
Gloria gave a practiced smile as the other tourists gushed their agreement. Everyone always “fell in love” and wished to stay “forever.”
But none of them ever did.
“What about you, Miss Godwin?” Annie asked. “What do you wish for?”
“To visit the stars,” Gloria answered automatically.
The children groaned. “That’s what you always wish for!”
Gloria tousled their woolen caps and led the group forward. They were wrong. Visiting the stars was never what Gloria wanted. It was only what she dared say aloud.
Tonight, just like every night, the same wish had erupted from her chest and burst toward the stars.
To be noticed.
Chapter 2
Mr. Christopher Pringle reluctantly returned his attention to Marlowe Castle’s bustling reception hall. There was time. The sky would be cloudless and brilliant many other nights. In just a few weeks, he’d have more than enough opportunity to gaze up at the stars on his long trip across the sea. First things first.
He had a fortnight left in Christmas, and he intended to make the most of it.
“There you are, Pringle!” One of his new friends clapped him on the shoulder. “What say you to a game of billiards over at Scarington’s?”
The other gentlemen voiced their agreement. “Rumor has it, Scarington’s wine collection could rival the castle’s cellar. Shall we go make quick work of it?”
To their obvious dismay, Christopher motioned them ahead. “You’ll have to start without me, I’m afraid. I may drop by later.”
“Who knows if there will still be any wine left?” they teased him as they jostled each other out the castle exit and into the night.
As fond as he’d become of the local gentlemen, Christopher was glad to see them go. He was here in search of a bride, not a lads’ night out. The fewer excess eligible bachelors crowding the reception hall, the better.
He surveyed his surroundings. The hunt was not going well. Although he had been in Christmas for two weeks, all of the female attention had been focused on his elder brother, an inveterate rake. Even this far north, “Saint Nick’s” wickedness was as legendary as his conquests. The mere sight of his chiseled visage was enough to make a young lady swoon.
Or to make Christopher bury his face in his palms. He was ready to finally have his turn.
“Mr. Pringle?” came a soft feminine voice from behind him.
He turned around with a wide smile. “Why, Miss Borland, you look fetching tonight. Is that a new bonnet?”
Her cheeks flushed pink. “I thought… Is Nicholas here?”
Christopher’s smile tightened. It was not the first time he’d been confused for his popular brother. He ought to accustom himself to being second best.
“I’m afraid he’s elsewhere this evening.” Christopher couldn’t be more specific. He loved his brother and had been sworn to secrecy.
“Oh.” The young lady’s disappointment was palpable.
She all but ran away before Christopher could offer to escort her to the refreshment buffet on the other side of the receiving hall.
He tried not to take the implicit rejection personally. Living in the shadow of a devilishly handsome rake who also happened to be heir presumptive to a dukedom meant that no matter what Christopher did, he was relegated to the background. Whenever Nick was around, Christopher became invisible.
So, he’d stopped sticking around. “Saint Nick Fever” taking over England? Christopher visited Sicily, Barcelona, Vienna. His heart sang just thinking about the incredible experiences he’d had exploring other lands.
Travel was in his soul. But he hadn’t lost the dream of wanting to share the adventure with a wife.
Speaking of which, a lovely young lady was headed right in his direction.
>
He made an elegant leg. “How are you this evening, Miss Quincy?”
“Splendid, thank you.” She glanced over his shoulder. “Are you here with your brother?”
He kept his smile in place. “I fear Nicholas has other plans this evening.”
Miss Quincy’s face fell, but at least she managed to curtsey before hurrying elsewhere.
Christopher tried not to feel discouraged.
This trip was meant to be the perfect opportunity to bride-hunt. A secluded, picturesque mountaintop village in the northernmost point of the country; a world away from the London social whirl his brother dominated.
Yet the moment Christopher had set out on the journey, Nick had decided to join in. They were brothers. They didn’t spend enough time together. A joint holiday would surely be the ticket.
It was not.
Not only had Nick become the instant obsession of every unwed female within town limits, he’d even managed to be the first to fall in love. The banns would begin on the morrow at the local parish church. It was nothing short of a miracle.
Christopher was thrilled for his brother, and more than a little relieved for himself. Once word got loose that Nick was off the market, everything would change. Christopher rolled back his shoulders in relief.
Tomorrow morning, he would finally know what it was like to live a normal life.
“The wind blows not from the east or the west, but from deep within,” came a dreamy voice to his right.
Virginia Underwood.
He could have hugged her in relief. He and Virginia were merely friends, but at least she hadn’t approached in search of his brother.