Charming
the Duke
by
Holly Bush
BLURB:
1849
. . . Matilda Sheldon, the middle daughter of the sixth Earl of Bisset, has
never been interested in the fashionable society events that so preoccupy her
parents and siblings. Her loving, albeit, daft family cannot understand why.
But Matilda has little use for silly rules and dramas. She would rather occupy
her time with a worthwhile cause such as opening The Sheldon Home for Orphans,
much to the chagrin of her mother and grandmother. They are quite certain a
venture of this nature will discourage suitors. Matilda is quite certain that
if suitors are discouraged it is because she is clever, plain, a bit clumsy,
and inevitably compared to her beautiful sisters.
The
Duke of Thornsby is in tight spot. After receiving the title on the death of
his father, he discovers the inheritance is to be gifted elsewhere if he does
not marry before his thirtieth birthday. Unfortunately, our man-about-town is
embroiled in a scandal, not of his own making, and the marriage mamas won’t let
any eligible misses anywhere near him. What’s a Duke to do? Get invited to a
house party hosted by the notoriously absent-minded Earl of Bisset, who just
happens to be Papa to some young ladies of marriageable age!
Thornsby
finds himself fascinated, not with the two Sheldon debutantes actively seeking
a husband, but rather with the ‘brown wren’ he first mistakes for a servant.
Matilda is counting the hours until the house party ends when the necessity of
conversing with the guests will be over, and ridiculously handsome men go far
away. Can a worldly Duke convince a sensible girl to accept his court? Find out
in Charming the Duke.
Our
heroine Matilda meets the Duke of Thornsby for the first time . . .
Matilda
groaned inwardly. And so began a long three days of this business. Nearly two
hours later all the guests were situated in the correct room. A stand-up buffet
was to be served at eight o’clock, giving Matilda three hours alone. Mother was
fussing with Cook over some calamity. Father had taken a few old compatriots to
the stables, and her sisters were napping. Matilda was heading towards the
stairs when the footman opened the door once more.
A
tall, dark haired man entered with a thin woman on his arm. A blond man came
behind them and whistled as his gaze cleared the three-story ceiling of the
entranceway. Damnation. These were the guests Mother had been fussing about,
wondering what had held them up. No Mother. No Father. No Franklin and the
peach. No Juliet or Alexandra. Not even Fitz about. Matilda stepped forward and
curtsied.
“Good
day, Sirs and Madam.”
The
dark-haired man swept a look up and down the entranceway, even down to the marble
floors before handing his hat and cane to Matilda.
“Tell
your Mistress the Duke of Thornsby has arrived.”
“Right away, sir,” Matilda said.
The
thin woman rushed forward. “How silly my brother can be,” she said and stole a
glance over her shoulder at the dark haired man. “Aren’t you the middle
daughter of the Earl?”
The
blond man laughed uproariously. Matilda quelled him with a stare. “Matilda
Sheldon. Welcome to Maplewood.”
“I
am Lady Athena. I believe we’ve met quite some time ago. This is Mr. Andrew
Smithly. And this,” she said as she grabbed the dark haired man’s arm, “is my
brother, the Duke of Thornsby.”
Thornsby
bowed over her hand. “Terribly sorry, my dear. I just, well . . . my fault. My
apologies. Terrible mistake. Terrible.”
Matilda
leaned forward. She’d had her daily allowance of stupidity as she greeted
guests all afternoon. There really was only so much she could take and remain
stoic. “How do you characterize this
auspicious start? Would you term it,” Matilda lifted her shoulders in a shrug,
“terrible, by chance?”
The
Duke pulled at his waistcoat. “I did apologize, Miss Sheldon. Was a harmless
mistake on my part. I heard your family described in one fashion, and you
standing there just didn’t put me in mind that you were part of the Sheldon
clan.”
The
sister groaned.
“And
how, sir, did you hear my family described?” Matilda asked.
“Got
you in a neat box, old boy,” the other man said.
“Everyone
said they were blond and beau . . .”
Matilda’s
brows rose. She was aware of the comparisons made between her and her sisters
and mother. Her sister-in-law to be as well. Just not in the entrance to her
home by a man she’d never met. She bellowed over her shoulder to the butler.
“James.
Fetch Mother. The Duke of Thorny has arrived.” Matilda schooled her features.
“Lady Athena, Mr. Smithly, enjoy your stay.”
Holly
Bush was born in western Pennsylvania to two avid readers. There was not a room
in her home that did not hold a full bookcase. She worked in the hospitality
industry, owning a restaurant for twenty years. Holly has been a marketing
consultant to start-up businesses and has done public speaking on the subject.
Holly
has been writing all of her life and is a voracious reader of a wide variety of
fiction and non-fiction, particularly political and historical works. She has
written four romance novels, all set in the U.S. West in the mid 1800’s. She
frequently attends writing conferences, and has always been a member of a
writer’s group.
Holly
is a gardener, a news junkie, and former vice-president of her local library
board and loves to spend time near the ocean. She is the proud mother of two
daughters and the wife of a man more than a few years her junior.
Links:
Twitter
- @hollybushbooks
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