Celeste Bradley - [Heiress Brides 03]
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Praise for USA Today bestselling author
Celeste Bradley
and her previous novels and series
SEDUCING THE SPY
“Thrilling up to the last page, titillating from one sexually charged love scene to the next, and captivating from beginning to end, the last of the Royal Four series displays Bradley’s ability to tell an involved, sexy story. If you haven’t yet read a Bradley novel, let yourself be seduced by the mistress of the genre!”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“Have you discovered the bawdy charms of Celeste Bradley? Laced with intrigue and adventure, she has quickly become a staff and reader favorite and with each book we just fall further in love with her characters. This is the final book in the superb Royal Four quartet, with her most dangerous deception yet!”
—Rendezvous
THE ROGUE
“Once you’ve read a Liar’s Club book, you crave the next in the series. Bradley knows how to hook a reader with wit, sensuality (this one has one of the hottest hands-off love scenes in years!) and a strong plot along with the madness and mayhem of a Regency-set novel.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“Bradley continues her luscious Liar’s Club series with another tale of danger and desire, and as always her clever prose is imbued with wicked wit.”
—Booklist
“Celeste Bradley’s Liar’s Club series scarcely needs an introduction, so popular it’s become with readers since its inception . . . Altogether intriguing, exciting, and entertaining, this book is a sterling addition to the Liar’s Club series.”
—Road to Romance
TO WED A SCANDALOUS SPY
“Warm, witty, and wonderfully sexy.”
—Teresa Medeiros, New York Times bestselling author
“Funny, adventurous, passionate, and especially poignant, this is a great beginning to a new series . . . Bradley mixes suspense and a sexy love story to perfection.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“A wonderful start to a very looked-forward-to new series . . . once again showcases Celeste Bradley’s talent of creating sensual and intriguing plots filled with memorable and endearing characters . . . A non-stop read.”
—Romance Reader at Heart
“Danger, deceit, and desire battle with witty banter and soaring passion for prominence in this highly engrossing tale . . . Bradley also provides surprises galore, both funny and suspenseful, and skillfully ties them all in neatly with the romance so as to make this story more than averagely memorable.”
—Road to Romance
“A fantastic read . . . Bradley successfully combines mystery, intrigue, romance, and intense sensuality into this captivating book.”
—Romance Junkies
THE CHARMER
“Amusing, entertaining romance.”
—Booklist
“Bradley infuses this adventure with so much sexual tension and humor that you’ll be enthralled. You’ll laugh from the first page to the last . . . The wonderful characters, witty dialogue, and clever plot will have you wishing you were a Liar too.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
THE SPY
“Only a clever wordsmith can make this complex, suspenseful tale work so perfectly. Bradley pulls us into the wonderful world of the Liar’s Club and gives us a nonstop read brimming with puzzle after puzzle.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“With its wonderfully witty writing, superbly matched protagonists, and intrigue-steeped plot, the third of Bradley’s Liar’s Club historicals is every bit as much fun as The Pretender and The Impostor.”
—Booklist
“A must for readers of the Liar’s Club series and a good bet for those who haven’t yet started . . . I unhesitatingly recommend.”
—All About Romance
“Ms. Bradley has an effortless style to her prose.”
—The Romance Reader
“A Top Pick . . . the best of [the Liar’s Club] so far. Bless Celeste Bradley . . . She just seems to get better at it as she goes along.”
—Romance Reader at Heart
THE IMPOSTOR
“Bradley carefully layers deception upon deception, keeping the intrigue level high and the tone bright . . . Readers will race through this delightful comedy of errors and eagerly anticipate the next installment.”
—Publishers Weekly
“With delicious characters and a delectable plot, Bradley delivers another enticing read brimming with the mayhem and madness that come with falling in love when you least expect it. The devilishly funny double identities, witty dialogue and clever twists will captivate.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews (Top Pick)
“Don’t miss this second book of the Liar’s Club series. With humor, passion and mystery, it’s absolutely delightful in every way! I can’t wait for the next one.”
—Old Book Barn Gazette
THE PRETENDER
“Totally entertaining.”
—New York Times bestselling author Julia Quinn
“An engaging, lusty tale, full of adventure and loaded with charm.”
—Gaelen Foley, USA Today bestselling author of Lord of Ice
“Bradley certainly knows how to combine engaging characters with excitement, sensuality, and a strong plot.”
—Booklist (starred)
“Bursting with adventure and sizzling passion to satisfy the most daring reader.”
—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
“A charming heroine and a dashing spy hero make The Pretender a riveting read . . . [E]ntertained me thoroughly from beginning to end.”
—Sabrina Jeffries, USA Today bestselling author of After the Abduction
CELESTE BRADLEY’S HEIRESS BRIDES SERIES
Desperately Seeking a Duke
The Duke Next Door
AVAILABLE FROM ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS
. . .AND LOOK FOR CELESTE BRADLEY’S
OTHER ROMANCE SERIES
THE LIAR’S CLUB
The Pretender
The Impostor
The Spy
The Charmer
The Rogue
THE ROYAL FOUR
To Wed a Scandalous Spy
Surrender to a Wicked Spy
One Night with a Spy
Seducing the Spy
AVAILABLE FROM ST. MARTIN’S PAPERBACKS
Duke Most Wanted
Celeste Bradley
NOTE: If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
DUKE MOST WANTED
Copyright © 2008 by Celeste Bradley.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
ISBN: 0-312-93970-1
EAN: 978-0-312-93970-0
Printed in the United States of America
St. Martin’s Paperbacks edition / May 2008
St. Martin’s Paperbacks are published by St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, NY 10010.
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
This book is dedicated to my sister, Cindy. Through life and loves and kids and gardens, you are always there. I l
ove you.
I’d like to acknowledge the fortitude and beyond-the-call patience of my wonderful editor and friend, Monique Patterson. Sorry about the stress, sweetie! I’d also like to thank my assistant, Darbi Gill, for pushing while Monique pulled. Somehow Pooh made it out of Rabbit’s door.
Prologue
Once upon a time, on a lovely spring day in the English countryside, three tiny girls played side by side by side—cousins and future competitors.
The eldest, Sophie, watched an insect crawling across the path, squatting awkwardly so that her hem dragged in the dirt. The middle, Phoebe, sweet and unrestrained, chased a butterfly. The youngest, Deirdre, even then a stunningly beautiful infant, grabbed Sophie’s bug and ate it, ignoring Sophie’s howl of protest.
Their mothers, Sophie’s a frustrated and resentful widow, Phoebe’s a kindly but overworked vicar’s wife and Deirdre’s, an ethereal and unwell beauty, sat watching them from the shady blanket left over from their picnic.
Sophie’s mother, who was cousin to the other two, not sisters as they were, slapped irritably at something with too many legs that encroached upon her skirts. “Disgusting idea,” she muttered. “I abhor eating outside.”
Phoebe’s mother, the only woman whose hands showed the wear of actual toil, gently removed the offending creature and set it free in the grass. She smiled to see her daughter playing so joyously. “Insects or no, I think it’s delightful to sit at all.”
Deirdre’s mother fanned her pale cheeks and smiled as well. “I don’t get out enough these days. And it’s lovely to see the girls play together.”
Sophie’s mother eyed her own daughter for a long moment, then let her eyes rest on the very pretty daughters of her cousins. No one had said a word so far, but it was obvious that Sophie wasn’t going to be the beauty of the three.
No one had mentioned the Pickering trust, either. Yet how could they not be thinking, even now, that their daughters had a chance where they themselves had failed so miserably?
Oh, one sister had found a wealthy enough man, though not a duke by any means. The other had settled for a vicar! She herself had not done much better, for though her late husband had left her settled fairly if she pinched her coppers, she was no higher in life than she’d started!
No, it was up to the next generation. Sophie’s mother frowned, gazing at her child’s knobby knees and awkward movements. She’d even inherited the Pickering nose!
Was that the sort of girl a duke most wanted?
I, SIR HAMISH Pickering, being of sound mind but ailing body, do make my last will and testament.
I’ve climbed as high as a man can, despite having twice the brains, wisdom and fortitude of the layabout aristocracy. Yet, a woman can wed as high as her looks will let her, up to a duchess if she may.
There, my own daughters failed me miserably. Morag and Finella, I spent money on you so that you could marry higher but you weren’t up to snuff. You expected the world to be handed it to you. If any female of this family wants another farthing of my money she’d best set herself to earn it.
Therefore, I declare that the entirety of my fortune be kept back from my useless daughters and be held in trust for the granddaughter or great-granddaughter who weds a duke of England or weds a man who then becomes a duke through inheritance, at which time the trust will be released to her and only her.
If she has any sisters or female cousins who fail, they may each have a lifetime income of fifteen pounds a year. If she has any brothers or male cousins, though the family does tend to run to daughters, more’s the pity, they will receive five pounds apiece, for that’s all I had in my pocket when I came to London. Any Scotsman worth his haggis can turn five pounds into five hundred in a few years’ time.
A set amount will be given each girl as she makes her debut in Society, for gowns and whatnot.
Should three generations of Pickering girls fail, I wash me hands of the lot of you. The entire fifteen thousand pounds will go to pay the fines and hardships of those who defy the excise man to export that fine Scots whisky which has been my only solace in this family of dolts. If your poor sainted mother could only see you now.
Signed,
Sir Hamish Pickering
Witnesses,
B. R. Stickley, A. M. Wolfe
Solicitors’ firm of Stickley & Wolfe
NEARLY TWENTY YEARS passed before three young ladies, chaperoned by Deirdre’s stepmother, took up residence in London for their debut season.
At first, it seemed that pretty, openhearted Phoebe would be the one to land an almost-duke. When she ran away with his rakish half-brother instead, beautiful, willful Deirdre snatched him up, wedding him within weeks.
Deirdre may have loved her new husband desperately, but he wasn’t nearly so pleased with her. Luckily, when she refused to mother his wildly out-of-control child, Meggie, sparks flew—and grew to white-hot flames.
With Deirdre’s handsome lord about to inherit the title of Duke of Brookmoor, everyone assumed it was only a matter of time until Deirdre was handed an enormous amount of money she didn’t especially need.
Sophie, tall, plain and socially awkward, had never nurtured any hope of winning the inheritance herself. After all, scholarly, reserved Sophie had never even met a duke!
Chapter One
England, 1815
If someone had told Sophie Blake one year ago that tonight she would find herself sprawled on the rug before the fire with one of the handsomest, most desirable men in London, she would have laughed outright in disbelief.
Yet here she was, stretching lazily in the warmth, gazing fondly at Lord Graham Cavendish, tall of form and dashing of countenance, as he stroked long capable fingers over her bare, sensitive palm—
“Ouch!” Sophie snatched her hand back.
“Got it!” Graham held his pinched fingers up high in triumph. Then he brought his hand down close to his face and peered at his quarry with his striking green eyes. “Blue glass? How in the world did you manage to get a sliver of blue glass in your hand?”
For Sophie, the question wasn’t so much how it happened as why she didn’t glow like a stained glass window after twenty-seven years of shattering delicate valuables with her clumsiness. She simply shrugged innocently at Graham. “Haven’t the foggiest. But thank you. That has bothered me greatly.”
He bowed his head facetiously. “All in a day’s good works.” Then he moved away from the fire, where he had towed her to get the benefit of better light.
They were in the front parlor of a rented house on Primrose Street, near the fashionable district of Mayfair but not quite in it. Sophie had no choice in the house, but she would have liked it well enough had her chaperone, Lady Tessa, not been in residence.
Not that the snide and insulting Tessa spent much time properly chaperoning Sophie—thank Heaven!—for she became easily bored and turned to her lovers for attention for weeks at a time.
Tessa believed that Sophie had come to London to find a husband—more precisely, to compete with her prettier cousins for the few unwed dukes in Society and win the Pickering fortune—so it might have a subtle form of strategy to abandon Sophie to a solitary life without benefit of a chaperone to accompany her to the many events and balls she had every right to attend.
What Tessa didn’t know—nor did anyone else—was that Sophie had never intended to make a play for the fortune, nor even, in truth, to look for a man to make her own. This opportunity to escape the drudgery of her life in Acton had been seized and perpetrated almost before Sophie herself had been aware of what she was doing.
When the letter from Tessa had arrived, announcing the plan to take all three cousins to London to try their hand at winning the Pickering pounds, Sophie had packed within the hour and left within the day—without a word to anyone.
Here in London without permission or purpose, free for the first time in her life to please herself and not merely be the unappreciated handmaiden of a fretful and demanding woman who held her i
n no particular regard, Sophie told no one her true mission.
Sophie wanted to have fun. Unsurprisingly, Sophie’s fun was not everyone’s cup of tea, but she relished being free at last to pursue her own interests and her own pleasures—to read for hours, uninterrupted! Heaven!—and to speak to new and interesting people.
To be truthful, she wasn’t very accomplished at that yet, but she had every intention of improving, someday, when there was nothing breakable in sight—and to see something of the world before she must return to a life of dreary servitude. Tessa’s petty vengeance suited Sophie perfectly well.
When Sophie’s cousins, Phoebe and Deirdre, had yet been unmarried, the three of them had spent many enjoyable hours avoiding Tessa’s poisonous company, but now with her cousins away from London with their new husbands, Sophie had no one.
Except Graham.
Of course, Graham had his own house in London, or at least, his father, the Duke of Edencourt, did. It was surely much larger and grander than this simple house. Yet Graham avoided his home as much as possible. The stories Graham told of his three elder brothers made Sophie much happier about her own lack of siblings.
And the time that Graham spent with her made her much happier about her chosen solitude. He never made her feel odd about her extreme height—for his own quite surpassed hers—nor did he twit her about her lack of fashion or her penchant for scholarly pursuits. At least, he did so only in a fond and lazy way that made her feel as though he actually approved.
He was very intelligent himself, though he rarely exerted himself to show it, and his breezy insouciance was a welcome antidote to her own more thoughtful bent.
He was also extremely enjoyable to look at. He was tall and lean, but solid with muscle and more than enough shoulder to fill out his dandy’s coat most appealingly. His fair hair curled back from a high brow, and sea green eyes gleamed over sculpted cheekbones and jaw. Most decorative indeed.