Prologue
“Ihave decided to marry. By the end of the Duke Hunt, if possible,” Austin announced.
His best friend Dominic choked, his brandy going down the wrong way. He coughed violently, slamming his glass onto the side table as he gasped for air. “You… what?”
Austin did not even turn to look at his friend. He remained by the window, watching the rain lash against the glass. “You heard me, Dom. I am retiring from the field. I’m looking for a wife.”
Dominic wiped his mouth, his eyes wide with disbelief. “The notorious Velvet Duke of Windemere needs a wife? I expected those words on your deathbed. Explain yourself.”
Austin’s fingers tightened on the window frame. “Myvelvetyreputation has finally begun to bite. People are starting to dig because of all those years of careless charm. It turns out thatbeing the most talked-about rake in London eventually makes people wonder what else you are hiding.”
“Dig into what?” Dominic asked, his voice losing its teasing edge.
“Into my family. Into their past, specifically.” Austin’s voice was level, but the tension in his shoulders was plain. “There are whispers… about my claim to the title. About whether I am my father’s son. To put it bluntly, they are calling me a bastard and that my mother loved another man before my father?—”
“Say no more, old friend. How did you find out about this?” Dominic was on the edge of his seat.
“I received a threatening letter. I thought nothing about it, at first, that was until a certain lady friend of mine questioned my legitimacy.”
Dominic swore softly. “They cannot prove anything…”
“But if they do, I lose everything.” Austin added quietly, “Title, estates, and my seat in Parliament.”
“And you believe marriage will silence them?” Dominic asked.
“It makes it politically inconvenient to ruin me,” Austin countered. “A duke with a spotless duchess and an heir is a pillar of the establishment. A notorious bachelor is just a target.”
Dominic considered this. “So, you’re looking for a marriage of convenience.”
“I’m looking for the most unimpeachable woman in England,” Austin corrected. “Your grandmother’s Duke Hunt is famously efficient at finding them. And I intend to choose one by the end of the week.”
One
“Let the Duke Hunt begin!”
Austin leaned against a pillar near the French windows with an untouched glass of claret in his hand. He barely lifted his head as the Dowager Duchess’s voice rang out across the vast drawing room of Greystone Park. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead, fires roared in twin marble hearths, and two dozen eligible ladies, along with a handful of married ones who pretended not to be hunting, turned towards their hostess with polite smiles.
Let them hunt, He thought with lazy amusement.
No one would catch the Duke of Windemere because this time he was there to do the hunting.
He scanned the room idly and found familiar faces. Lady Amelia, in a pale blue gown, looked ravishing. Across from her stood the widowed Countess of Harrow, whose dark eyes had alreadyfound him across the room and promised recollection of certain very pleasant nights last summer.
Austin cleared his throat.
None of them will do.
“There you are, Your Grace!” The Dowager’s announcement caused all heads to swivel in his direction. “You’re not usually skulking by the windows when the Hunt begins. I swear you grow more elusive every season.”
Austin straightened, offering her his most charming smile. “Your Grace, I have decided to observe rather than participate this season. One must study the field before engaging.”
“Pish.” She rapped his shin lightly with her cane. “You have been studying the field for years and never once fired a shot. This year will be different.”
He lifted a brow. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Both.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “I have invited a particularly fine selection of young ladies. Several of them have already asked after you.”
“I am flattered.”
