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The Viscount's Sweet Temptation: A Duke of Danby Summons, #1
The Viscount's Sweet Temptation: A Duke of Danby Summons, #1
The Viscount's Sweet Temptation: A Duke of Danby Summons, #1
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The Viscount's Sweet Temptation: A Duke of Danby Summons, #1

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Lady Harriet Thornhill knows the summons from her grandfather means he's decided whom she must marry. Determined that she'd only marry a man of her choosing, she stows away in her friend's father's carriage, only to find herself alone with young Archibald Napier,Viscount Morley.

Morley's plans for a quiet Christmas vanish when he discovers the sweet young lady hiding under the blankets in his carriage. As she claims an acquaintance with his sister, he feels duty-bound to see her safely back to her family.

A broken carriage wheel leaves them stranded, and Harriet's reputation is at stake. Morley's not ready to take a wife, until he's told he wouldn't be a suitable husband for her. With memories of her sweet, tempting kiss filling his thoughts, he prepares to fight for the hand of the woman he believes he could love.

LanguageEnglish
Release dateNov 2, 2023
ISBN9798223103578
The Viscount's Sweet Temptation: A Duke of Danby Summons, #1

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    Book preview

    The Viscount's Sweet Temptation - Aileen Fish

    The Viscount's Sweet Temptation

    A Danby Summons Novella

    Aileen Fish

    Aspendawn Press

    The Viscount’s Sweet Temptation

    Copyright © 2011 Aileen Fish

    All rights reserved.

    Cover design: Aspendawn Designs

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

    This book is a work of fiction. With the exception of historical figures, any resemblance it bears to reality is entirely coincidental.

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    Contents

    Chapter One

    Chapter Two

    Chapter Three

    Chapter Four

    Chapter Five

    Chapter Six

    Chapter Seven

    Chapter Eight

    Chapter Nine

    Chapter Ten

    Chapter Eleven

    Chapter Twelve

    Epilogue

    Excerpt: A Marquess for Christmas

    About the Author

    Other Books by Aileen Fish

    Chapter One

    December 1812

    Lady Harriet Thornhill stood at the window of her parents' sitting room in the Hart’s Head Inn, gazing at the gathering black clouds. The threatening storm echoed the swirling emotions in her mind. She must escape!

    Her mother, Lady Alderford, sat quietly behind her sipping tea and nibbling the biscuits the proprietor's wife had provided upon their arrival. Her father dozed in the chair opposite her mother. How could they be so complacent when Harriet's very life was at stake?

    Harriet wished she had read her grandfather's summons before her mother had seen it. Mayhap she could have burned the missive and pretended it had never arrived. How dare Grandpapa insist they alter their holiday plans to travel to Yorkshire in such inclement weather? How dare he insist he had important business with his entire family? Who did he think he was to command them all?

    Well, of course, he was the Duke of Danby, so he most likely did have the right to make these demands. But her mother was the duke's youngest daughter. They did not pretend to think Harriet's brother Leander, Baron Penlow, stood to inherit much of anything from the duke. By the time her hordes of cousins had been given their share of his unentailed wealth, there would be little to distribute to the Thornhills.

    That left only one reason for the duke's summons. He must have found someone for Harriet and her sister, Miriam—possibly even Lee—to marry. Oh, this would never do! To be forced to marry a man not of her choosing, mayhap not even of her acquaintance, and after she had only enjoyed two London Seasons!

    It was not to be borne.

    The slow drizzle all morning long and into the afternoon kept the roads filled with muck, just enough for her father to insist they stop early for the night. Papa was not a favorite son-in-law and displayed no urgency to arrive early at Danby Castle. Still, as much as Harriet might consider pleading her case to either of her parents, she knew it would be wasted breath.

    No one crossed a direct command from the duke. No one.

    Harriet sighed, her breath fogging the cold glass. Where once she might have scribbled a quick love missive in the mist to her dream beau in hopes he might appear and read it before the glass cleared, she suddenly felt too old for dreams.

    Her mother spoke softly from the sitting area in front of the fire. Come away from the window, dear. You mustn't catch a chill so soon before Christmas.

    In a moment, Mama. To turn away now would be to give in to defeat, and she was certain she could find a way to avoid seeing her grandpapa. She had no experience in these matters, always having been the agreeable daughter and granddaughter, but certainly she had inherited some of the scheming wit her siblings shared.

    How unfair it was that Miriam had already left to visit their father's sister in Bath. She'd probably escape whatever fate awaited Harriet, at least temporarily, as their aunt was too ill to be left alone. And Lee was in London. While the duke had said he’d written to him there, Lee always found a way to avoid doing what was expected of him.

    Unwilling to let her thoughts continue into a diatribe on the unfairness of the inequality in the expectations placed upon young men and young women of Quality, Harriet reviewed the options before her. She could pretend to have caught a chill, thus being unable to present herself before the duke, but her mother was likely to see through her ruse. She could slip outside into the rain in hopes of actually becoming ill, but she really didn't want to spend her Christmas in a sickbed.

    If she were a young man, she could hire a horse and ride off to somewhere no one would look for her. London, perhaps. There were so many places in London for a young man to hide away, at least according to Lee's tales.

    Oh, dear, the diatribe was stronger than her efforts to keep it quiet. It simply wasn't fair she could have the same number of coins in her reticule as Lee might have in his pocket, and she couldn't use a one to save herself.

    The steady thunder of horse hooves drew her eye towards the road. A stately carriage came into view, pulled by four of the finest horses she'd seen. Beautiful matching black steeds trotted to a halt in front of the inn. The coach wasn't familiar, but the Wrenthorpe crest upon it was. Could her dear friend Lady Eleanor be stopping here?

    In her excitement, Harriet missed what her mother said but went

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