Regency Redemption: The Inconvenient Duchess / An Unladylike Offer
Christine Merrill
A hasty proposal…Compromised and wedded on the same day, Lady Miranda was fast finding married life not to her taste. A decaying manor and a secretive husband were hardly the stuff of girlish dreams. Yet every time she looked at dark, brooding Marcus Radwell, Duke of Haughleigh, she felt inexplicably compelled – and determined to make their marriage real!Ruin or Redemption?Miss Esme Canville’s brutal father is resolved to marry her off. Instead, she’ll offer herself to notorious rake Captain St John Radwell and enjoy all the freedom of a mistress! But St John is intent on mending his rakish ways and now his resolve must resist the determined, beautiful, and very, very tempting Esme…Two classic and delightful Regency tales!
REGENCYRedemption
The Inconvenient Duchess
An UnladylikeOffer
Christine Merrill
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
About the Author
CHRISTINE MERRILL lives on a farm in Wisconsin, USA, with her husband, two sons, and too many pets—all of whom would like her to get off the computer so they can check their e-mail.
She has worked by turns in theatre costuming, where she was paid to play with period ballgowns, and as a librarian, where she spent the day surrounded by books. Writing historical romance combines her love of good stories and fancy dress with her ability to stare out of the window and make stuff up.
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REGENCY SECRETS
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REGENCY RUMOURS
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REGENCY REDEMPTION
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REGENCY DEBUTANTES
Margaret McPhee
REGENCY IMPROPRIETIES
Diane Gaston
REGENCY MISTRESSES
Mary Brendan
REGENCY REBELS
Deb Marlowe
REGENCY SCANDALS
Sophia James
REGENCY MARRIAGES
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REGENCY INNOCENTS
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REGENCY SINS
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The Inconvenient Duchess
Christine Merrill
To Jim, who knows I’m crazy,
but loves me anyway. And to James and Sean.
Making your own breakfasts and mating your own socks
builds character. You’ll thank me later, but I thank you now.
Chapter One
‘Of course, you know I am dying.’ His mother extended slim fingers from beneath the bedclothes and patted the hand that he offered to her.
Marcus Radwell, fourth Duke of Haughleigh, kept his face impassive, searching his mind for the appropriate response. ‘No.’ His tone was neutral. ‘We will, no doubt, have this conversation again at Christmas when you have recovered from your current malady.’
‘Only you would use obstinacy as a way to cheer me on my deathbed.’
And only you would stage death with such Drury Lane melodrama. He left the words unspoken, struggling for decorum, but glared at the carefully arranged scene. She’d chosen burgundy velvet hangings and dim lighting to accent her already pale skin. The cloying scent of the lilies on the dresser gave the air a funereal heaviness.
‘No, my son, we will not be having this conversation again. The things I have to tell you will be said today. I do not have the strength to tell them twice, and certainly will not be here at Christmas to force another promise from you.’ She gestured to the water glass at the bedside. He filled it and offered it to her, supporting her as she drank.
No strength? And yet her voice seemed steady enough. This latest fatal illness was probably no more real than the last one. Or the one before. He stared hard into her face, searching for some indication of the truth. Her hair was still the same delicate blonde cloud on the pillow, but her face was grey beneath the porcelain complexion that had always given her a false air of fragility. ‘If you are too weak … perhaps later …’
‘Perhaps later I will be too weak to say them, and you will not have to hear. A good attempt, but I expected better.’