Love Letters From a Duke Read Free Page A

wheeled around. “Not know him? What a ridiculous thing to say. I’ve been corresponding with him for four years. I believe that counts as ‘knowing’ him.”
    Tally reached over, took her sister’s hand and squeezed it. “Dear Duchess, he hasn’t written in months. Not since his grandfather died. Even you must admit that something has…” To her credit, she didn’t say gone wrong. “…changed,” she finally finished.
    “Of course his situation has changed.” Felicity set off again for the door. “He’s a man with vast responsibilities now. He can hardly be expected to be writing to me constantly.”
    “As you say,” Tally agreed. “Perhaps that’s him now. Come to call, to sweep you off your feet and take us all to his glorious house. Would be quite convenient, since we haven’t enough coal to last the week.”
    For a moment Felicity gave herself over to Tally’s fanciful prattle. Coal. And candles. And enough tea in the chest to make a decent pot of pekoe. And the sugar to go in it, as well. But as a draught raced past her, the chill—along with her sister’s dire words—brought her back to her senses.
    Why had he suddenly stopped writing? Not even a response to her perfectly penned note of condolence. It was as if he was the one who’d gone aloft, not his grandfather.
    Oh , whatever had gone wrong?
    As the bell jangled again, Tally groaned at the clamor. “Sound as presumptuous as a duke, don’t they? Should I check the window for a coach and four before you answer it?”
    Felicity shook her head. “That could hardly be Hollindrake.” She nodded toward the bracket clock their father had sent them the year before. “It’s too early for callers. Besides, he’d send around his card or a note before he just arrived at our doorstep. Not even a duke would be so forward to call without sending word.”
    Sweeping her hands over her skirt and then patting herhair to make sure it was in place, Felicity was actually relieved it couldn’t be her duke calling—for she still hadn’t managed a way to gain them new wardrobes, let alone more coal. But she had a good week to solve those problems, at least until the House of Lords reconvened…for then Hollindrake would have to come to Town to formally claim his title and take his oath of allegiance.
    “So who do you think it is?” Tally was asking, as she clung to a squirming Brutus.
    Taking another quick glance at the clock, Felicity let out a big sigh. “How could I have forgotten? The agency sent around a note yesterday that they had found us a footman who met our requirements.”
    Tally snorted. “What? He doesn’t need a wage and won’t rob us blind?”
    Felicity glanced toward the ceiling and shook her head. “Of course I plan on paying him—eventually—and since we have nothing worth stealing that shouldn’t be an issue.”
    The bell jangled again, and this time Brutus squirmed free of his mistress’s grasp, racing in anxious circles around the hem of Tally’s gown and barking furiously.
    Well, if there was any consolation, Felicity mused as she crossed the foyer and caught hold of the latch, whoever was being so insistent was about to have his boots ruined.
    Taking a deep breath, she tugged the door open and found herself staring into a dark green greatcoat, which her gaze dismissively sped over for it sported only one poor cape. The owner stood hunched forward, the brim of his hat tipped down to shield him from the wintry chill.
    “May I help you?” Felicity asked, trying to tamp down the shiver that rose up her spine. It wasn’t that she’d been struck by a chill, for this mountain of a man was blocking the razor cold wind. No, rather, it was something she didn’t quite understand.
    And then she did.
    As this stranger slowly straightened, the brim of his hat rose, revealing a solid masculine jaw—covered in a hint of dark stubble that did little to obscure the strong cleft in his chin, nor hide a pair of firm lips.
    From there