Along Came a Lady (All the Duke's Sins, Band 1) - Softcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Christi Caldwell is the USA Today bestselling author of the Sinful Brides series and the Heart of a Duke series. She blames novelist Judith McNaught for luring her into the world of historical romance. When Christi was at the University of Connecticut, she began writing her own tales of love—ones where even the most perfect heroes and heroines had imperfections. She learned to enjoy torturing her couples before they earned their well-deserved happily ever after. Christi lives in Southern Connecticut, where she spends her time writing, and being a mommy to the most inspiring little boy and empathetic, spirited girls who, with their mischievous twin antics, offer an endless source of story ideas!

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter 1

London, England

Spring 1805

In the many years she'd been working as an instructor in etiquette, Miss Edwina Dalrymple had advised everyone from the daughters of powerful members of the gentry to the daughters of obscenely wealthy merchants.

She'd taught women who'd not so much as attempted a curtsy in their life the intricate and essential motions they required among the previously unfamiliar Polite Society.

She'd written articles offering advice to young women new to the ton.

She'd even written-although not sold so very many copies of-a manual with her instructions and advice meticulously laid out.

In all the time she'd worked in her respective position. however, she'd never entertained  . . . a duke and duchess.

Though, in fairness, there wasn't an overabundance of those highest of peers below a prince.

Even if there had been, however, they'd certainly never sought to enlist her services.

Or they hadn't before now.

At that very moment, the Duke and Duchess of Bentley stared across Edwina's modest chestnut table. Etched upon their faces were matched expressions of austere confidence and regal power. It was a skill they'd likely perfected in their respective nurseries, and one Edwina had schooled countless students on. And the duke and duchess also represented the closest Edwina had ever found herself to the dream she'd long carried of working among their vaunted ranks.

Ten years. It had been ten years, nearly to the date, that she'd secured herself references that would set her on a course to be the most sought-after and, more importantly, most respected governess.

Folding her hands neatly before her, Edwina opted to train her focus on the Duke of Bentley. "You would like me to instruct your child." Because, really, the matter of that out-of-the-blue request required clarification. A duke and duchess seeking her services Such an outrageous impossibility, one she'd only ever carried in her dreams. She discreetly pinched her thigh.

No, she was most definitely awake.

The duke nodded. "That is correct. However, he is not a . . . child in the traditional . . . sense."

Edwina sat up straighter on the upholstered armchair and waited for him to say more. "Your Grace?" she asked, seeking clarification.

The duchess silenced her husband with a single look, the manner of which Edwina had used sparingly, and only with her most recalcitrant charges, in order to preserve its effectiveness.

And wonder of wonders, it appeared even dukes could be tamed.

The just-graying gentleman adjusted his cravat and sat back in the sofa he occupied alongside his wife.

For the first time since she'd arrived and the duke had stated his intentions to hire Edwina, the duchess took command of the meeting. "We've come to enlist your services, Miss Dalrymple," Her Grace intoned. "And I gather, from your . . . response, you are wondering why we've requested you specifically." The gentleness in the duchess's tone kept that question from being an insult.

The duke frowned at his wife. "We do not mean to offend you . . ."

His wife gave him another look, this one a wry smile that proved just as effective in silencing him. "By everything I've read to you about her, the woman is clever enough to know. She knows that we're aware she's never had a patron among the peerage."

"That is correct," Edwina murmured, appreciating that directness and honesty. People of their station did not solicit her help. Unless they had to. "I have never had a client who was born to the peerage." Once that truth had stung. Edwina, however, in time, and with her work, had come to appreciate her lot for what it was-outside the sphere of the ruling elite. Despite the fact she'd been working her way to establish a place among them from the start. "As such, I must confess to . . . some surprise." And elation. Under her hem, Edwina danced her slippered feet about in a quiet, unseen celebration.

"We may not have had much success with previous instructors," the duke volunteered, and by the chastising look shot his way by his wife, too honestly this time.

Ah, he was desperate, then, and the duchess was determined to reveal no vulnerability. It mattered not. This represented her chance to prove to her father that she was completely capable of moving among his equals. And perhaps . . . even then, earn, if not his love, respect.

"She is going to have to know something of it," the duke said.

Edwina's intrigue redoubled.

And the older woman might have whispered something that sounded very much like, "You're the one responsible for your actions, dear heart."

Had they been attempting to rouse her intrigue, they couldn't have done any better than they were with their sotto voce exchange.

The duke slumped in his chair, giving him the look of a naughty charge. "Get on with it, then."

They were a fascinating, if peculiar, pair. One that fit not at all with the image society pedaled of dukes and duchesses, and yet, mayhap it was that elevated rank that allowed them that freedom of expression.

Her Grace looked to Edwina. "Until recently . . . very recently, His Grace had something of a . . . reputation."

"Most gentlemen do," Edwina said pragmatically. It didn't make it right, or anything she wished for her charges' future, but it did make it accepted by Polite Society.

"Not like this, Miss Dalrymple. Not. Like. This," the Duchess of Bentley said.

"She hardly requires all the details," the duke muttered.

His wife cupped a palm around her mouth, concealing it from her husband. "He was quite the rogue, really."

Again, most men were.

"I hear you, dear," he groused.

His wife, however, wasn't done with him. "In your mind you have likely conjured rogues and rakes and scoundrels, Miss Dalrymple. My husband would have put them all to shame with the depth of his depravity."

Edwina's mouth moved, but no words came out.

"How many other governesses have you come to before approaching me?" she asked, curious.

"Does it matter either way for our discussion?" the duchess returned.

Edwina considered that question a moment. "No," she allowed. "I suppose it does not." Only in the sense that it would provide her an indication of just how difficult an assignment she was taking on. Nor could there be any doubting or disputing that she was taking it regardless. This represented her first, and perhaps only, chance to gain entry into a clientele previously beyond her grasp.

"As I was saying, we've attempted to enlist the services of others. But governess after governess has refused us. First for the reason of my husband's past as a rogue"-and his not-too-distant one, at that-"and then, there is, of course, the matter of his children."

"She doesn't require details, dear heart," the duke mumbled, a blush on his cheeks. He wrestled with his cravat.

His Grace needn't have even bothered wasting his breath. The duchess would not be silenced. "Until our marriage, just six months ago." The stunningly regal woman leaned forward. "I assure you, my dear, had we been married some years earlier, the duke would not find himself in the very predicament he does now." And in a very unduchesslike way, she winked.

And perhaps it was that unexpected realness from the woman that compelled Edwina to ask her next question. "What exactly is the predicament you speak of?"

"His reputation has been so terribly damaged that the governesses most highly...