Falling Into Bed with a Duke (Hellions of Havisham) Read Free Page A

shall receive a worse one.”
    Jerking his head around, he glared at her mother, sitting in the corner with her needlework as though she were responsible for the words spewing from Minerva’s mouth. “Your Grace—”
    “Mrs. Dodger,” her mother interrupted succinctly.
    Sheridan released a frustrated sigh. “You are the widow of a duke.”
    “I am the wife of Jack Dodger and prefer to be addressed as such.”
    He tapped his front teeth together several times before clearing his throat. “Very well, if you insist.”
    She smiled sweetly. “I have from the moment I married him a good many years ago, but I don’t believe you’re here to discuss the choices I’ve made in my life.”
    “You are quite right, madam, I am not. Will you be so kind as to explain to your daughter why she should not be so quick to dismiss my suit?”
    Her face serene, she bestowed upon him an indulgent smile. “To be quite honest, Lord Sheridan, I think your afternoons would be better spent elsewhere.”
    Harrumphing, he pinned Minerva with his glower. “I intend to have a wife by the end of the Season. I shall not wait for you to come to your senses, Miss Dodger. I shall move on.”
    “I think that would be most wise.”
    “You’re foolish to give up what I can provide.”
    “With the help of my dowry.”
    The tapping of his teeth again. In time, the habit would no doubt drive her mad.
    “Good day, Madam, Miss Dodger.” With that, he spun on his heel and strode from the parlor without so much as a backward glance.
    With a deep sigh releasing much of the tension that had accompanied Minerva with his visit, she rolled her shoulders before wandering across the room and dropping unceremoniously into the chair beside her mother’s. “Strange, but I’d have felt more foolish if I’d married him.”
    Reaching across, her mother squeezed her hand. “You’re not foolish at all. You know your own mind. Somewhere, there is a man who will relish that aspect of you and view you as more than an ornament.”
    While Minerva wasn’t prone to pessimism, on this particular subject she couldn’t dredge up her mother’s optimism.
    “I just passed Lord Sheridan going out as I was coming in,” Grace Stanford, the Duchess of Lovingdon, and Minerva’s dearest friend, said as she walked into the parlor, her two-year-old son perched on her hip. “I daresay, he bore the look of a storm cloud.”
    “What a marvelous surprise to have you drop by,” Minerva’s mother said, her smile brighter than anything the sun could produce as she rose and crossed over to their newest arrivals. “How is my grandson?”
    The boy reached for her, and she took him into her arms. “I swear, you have grown so much since last I saw you.”
    “You saw him a few days ago,” Grace reminded her mother-by-marriage.
    “Too long.”
    Approaching, Minerva tried to read her friend’s expression, but Grace was known for never giving anything away. It made her an extremely skilled opponent at cards.
    “So, Lord Sheridan?” Grace prompted.
    With a sigh, Minerva shrugged her shoulders. “He thought we were well suited. I didn’t.”
    “He has considerable debt,” Grace said.
    “Precisely.”
    “He is rather nice-looking and can be quite charming.”
    “He sat here for fifteen minutes staring at his teacup as though hoping to catch a glimpse of his tea evaporating.”
    “Oh dear.” Her eyes held sympathy and understanding. Before her marriage to Minerva’s half brother, the Duke of Lovingdon, Grace had been navigating the sea of fortune hunters as well.
    “So what brings you to our door?” Minerva asked.
    “I simply wanted to visit with you for a bit.”
    “I’ll leave you girls to it,” her mother said distractedly, pinching the child’s chubby red cheek. “Come along. Let’s find your grandfather. He’ll be delighted to see you.” She looked at Grace. “That’s all right, isn’t it? If I take him off for a bit?”
    “Of course. I’ll find you