“Then you have made a decision?” At only sixteen, Douglas had travelled to Vienna with the intention of becoming Edvard’s apprentice. Griffin had told him that there was no need to go all that way – that he could learn everything he needed to know by working at the London branch, Crawford and Sons, where Finnegan had been employed. But Douglas had been determined to make his own way, and in the end he’d fallen in love with Vienna and with Christoph’s daughter Lillian, so he’d chosen to stay. It was already twenty-three years since they’d had their first child – a son named Jack, whose wife was now expecting.
“If we leave England on May first, we’ll be able to celebrate Rose’s birthday and Finnegan’s wedding anniversary.” Finnegan had married a glass manufacturer’s daughter and had consequently accepted that he would be snubbed by thetonthereafter. But Finnegan hadn’t cared, and Emily could not have been prouder of her son’s decision. “The weather in Vienna is also excellent that time of year.”
Emily’s heart swelled with happiness. “They’ll be thrilled to know we’ll be there in time for their grandchild’s birth.”
“And you, my lady?”
Leaning back so she could look her husband in the eye, Emily smiled at him and said, “I am thrilled as well.”
The edge of his mouth lifted with a hint of mischief. “That is all I need to know.” Closing the distance between them, he kissed her with as much certainty, passion, and love as he had done for the last forty-five years, reminding Emily of the beautiful life they had built together and the wonderful memories they were fortunate to have shared. And as his arms tightened around her, keeping her safe, she looked forward to every second that remained of this happy ever after with Griffin by her side.
Thankyou so much for readingMore Than A Rogue. If you enjoyed this story and would like to know more about the first book in the series, you can do so by readingNo Ordinary Duke!This story features broken-hearted Mary who hates the aristocracy and Caleb, who wants nothing more than to escape his newly acquired title. Disguised as a laborer, he falls for Mary, but will she still want him when she learns the truth about his identity?
Or if you’re looking for a longer read with a rags to riches trope, you might consider trying my Diamonds In The Rough series, starting withA Most Unlikely Duke.
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Once again, I thank you for your interest in my books. Please take a moment to leave a review since this can help other readers discover my books.
And please continue readingfor an excerpt fromNo Ordinary Duke.
NO ORDINARY DUKE
Rain streakeddown the carriage windows while Caleb MaxwellCrawford traveled from the London docks to his family home on Grosvenor Square. Dusk had turned to night since he'd stepped off the ship on which he'd sailed from Calais yesterday afternoon. Jaw set, he tightened his grip on the leather satchel beside him on the bench. It held all the evidence he needed to prove how wrong his father had been when they'd parted ways ten years earlier. Filled with letters of praise and articles heralding Caleb's architectural abilities, it would show the old bastard he'd made a success of himself. It would prove that refusing to join the clergy and being cut off financially had not led to his downfall, as his father had claimed it would when he'd railed about Caleb's ungratefulness.
Peering out past the heavy rivulets of cascading water, Caleb narrowed his gaze on the murky darkness. He couldn't wait to gloat and see the astonished look on his father's face when he showed him the lithographs printed in the Paris Gazette. They illustrated in fine detail the mansion he'd designed for the Duke of Orléons. Building had commenced six years earlier and had just been completed last month. Inhaling deeply, Caleb tightened his hold on his satchel. The carriage drew to a jarring halt moments later, throwing him slightly off balance. Muttering a curse, he opened the door and climbed out into the unpleasant downpour, satchel in hand. The driver helped him retrieve his valise from the boot.
“Here you go sir,” the man said while water streamed over the brim of his hat.
“Thank you.” Caleb paid him and walked toward the imposing Mayfair mansion that loomed before him. The heavy front door with its massive brass knocker was less than inviting.
Rain gushed down the curved slope of the roof and pelted against the ground. Pulling his hat down over his forehead, Caleb drew the collar of his greatcoat up to protect the back of his neck and climbed the slick stone steps.
He still owned a key and withdrew it now from his pocket to unlock the door. It swung open and gave way to a dim interior. Entering the foyer, Caleb paused to listen. All was silent. Not even the longcase clock ticked away the progression of time.
Shivering, Caleb nudged the door shut behind him. It closed with a resounding thud. Where the devil was everyone?
He sighed and muttered another oath. He didn't like the idea of having to hunt down his family at one of the country estates. But even if they'd left town, there ought to be servants about. His parents had never left a house completely empty.
A soft snick caught his ears, and then the sharp click of approaching footsteps filled the air. The sound accompanied a man whom Caleb instantly recognized, even though his features were far more drawn now than when he'd last seen him.
“Murdoch,” he said, addressing the butler. “It has been a while.”
The old man drew a sharp breath. The candelabra he carried displaced the darkness. “I thought I heard something, so I came to investigate.” Moving closer, he peered up at Caleb. Light from four guttering candles flickered across his face, accentuating the creases there. “Is it really you, my lord?”
Caleb drew his hat from his head and swiped back the wet strands of hair that clung to his forehead. “Yes. I have returned.” He set his valise and satchel on the floor and proceeded to take off his gloves. “Where are my parents?”
Murdoch stared at him as if he could still not believe he was actually there. “Your mother is upstairs in her rooms.” Breaking eye contact, he proceeded to help Caleb off with his coat.
“And my father, the duke?” When Murdoch failed to reply, Caleb knit his brow. “Is he not at home?”
“No, he is not.” The butler busied himself with hanging the coat and setting Caleb’s hat and gloves aside. “But your mother will be pleased to see you, I’m sure. Please, follow me.” He led the way up the stairs while Caleb followed behind, his curiosity piqued by the servant’s unwillingness to supply him with details. Perhaps his parents had quarreled during his absence and were now living apart?
They reached the top of the landing and turned left toward the duchess’s apartment. Caleb knew the way well enough, but was glad the butler would be there to announce his arrival. After all, he doubted his mother would be as pleased to see him as Murdoch believed, considering he’d left without saying farewell. But he’d been too angry to do so at the time, and his decision to leave had been made in haste without consideration for anything besides getting away.
Arriving in front of the door leading into his mother’s sitting room, Murdoch paused to knock. A maid answered seconds later, her eyes widening when she noticed Caleb.
“Please inform Her Grace that her son, Lord Caleb, is here to see her,” Murdoch said.
