In Need of a Duke (The Heart of a Duke 0.5)(3)

And a wealthy one at that.





Chapter One





1810





She wasn’t exactly sneaking. No, the rather brisk pace she’d set for herself would hardly be conducive to a clandestine meeting.

Nor for that matter did well-bred daughters of late earls sneak. Why, she was merely…

Lady Aldora Adamson frowned and drew to a stop, glancing down the long row of hedges.

She was sneaking. There was no way around it.

Her heel sunk into a particularly moist patch of soil, and she wrenched her foot free. If she weren’t so out of breath from chasing after her quarry, she would have groaned aloud at the reward for her efforts. With the precarious financial state she and her sisters found themselves in, it didn’t do to go about ruining anything—especially a costly pair of slippers. Aldora studied her muddied soles and bit back a curse. The ivory silk would be ruined beyond repair.

The sound of morning birds chirping replaced the normal cacophony in Hyde Park, the sweet song the soothing balm she needed.

Aldora swiped the back of her hand across her brow and giggled as she imagined the horror in her mother, the Countess of Wakefield’s, eyes if she saw her eldest daughter. She could all but hear the high-pitched squawk in her mind.

Aldora, ladies do not run…

And they most certainly did not dash around until moisture marred their skin. For the better part of her life, the rules of proper decorum had been drilled into Aldora’s ladylike head, but then in the span of a moment, her life had changed and other things had begun to matter more.

Survival.

Aldora had run out of time.

Or rather, they had run out of time…her entire family: one mother, two younger sisters, and one brother whose security rested on her rather diminutive shoulders. She’d learned at the age of fifteen Father’s weakness at the gaming tables and learned he’d wagered away most of his wealth. However, it hadn’t been until he died two years ago that she’d learned the extent of the damage he’d wrought upon the family.

For nearly two years she and Mother had done an admirable job of holding off the unknown man who possessed Father’s vowels while also keeping at bay the many creditors her wastrel father had left them indebted to. Thankfully, the truth of their circumstances was not known by the ton.

Not yet. It was only a matter of time before their carefully constructed world fell down around them.

Aldora pulled out the slip of paper and strained to read it. Fortunately, she’d committed the words to memory.

The Marquess of St. James. Black hair, dark eyes, two inches past six feet. You can find him riding in Hyde Park at dawn.

She sighed and slipped the note into her cloak pocket. It was hard to say which was more humiliating; pursuing one’s future husband or receiving information about said future husband from his chambermaids.

She’d risen at an ungodly hour, dressed in her finest gown, and then sought to run into the mighty lord. Where her dearest friends had their hearts and minds set on a duke, Aldora had altogether different, more realistic goals in her quest for a husband; goals that included the Marquess of St. James. She had done extensive research, the level of which would have impressed her scientific friend, Lady Alison.

Fact: St. James was obscenely wealthy.

Fact: The bulk of eligible ladies had set their gazes on the bachelor dukes still on the market.

Fact: St. James served on the board of several hospitals and orphanages, which spoke to his commitment for the less fortunate.

Fact: Lady Aldora and her siblings were very close to being amongst those less fortunate.

Fact: The Marquess of St. James’s family had skeletons of their own.

Which made him the perfect match.

All of Society knew the tale of St. James’s scapegrace brother who’d killed young Lord Everworth in a duel and then been banished to some far-flung region of England. If the rumors were true, and they oftentimes were, the marquess’s brother had then immersed himself in trade.

Aldora pushed her thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. It had all been so cleverly orchestrated. She’d waited patiently for one hour before she spied his magnificent black mare. Except she’d gone and lost him.

And her maid, Isabella. She’d lost poor Isabella, too. It hardly seemed right, considering all the effort Isabella had put into finding out information from staff members in the Marquess of St. James’s household. With the exception of the butler Ollie and Cook, Isabella had been in their employ longer than any other servant and thus retained her position. Advanced in years, the poor graying woman was hardly of a state to be racing through Hyde Park while Aldora tried to secure a husband. If it hadn’t been for Isabella, there would have been no clandestine meeting.

She looked around. Then again, it would appear there would be no ‘meeting’ after all.

Aldora fought an overwhelming urge to stamp her foot.

This wasn’t for her. She was no coquette or flirting miss who could gracefully stumble upon a gentleman, swoon in his arms, and gain his notice and attention. At twenty she was the eldest of her siblings but even with Katherine and Anne, the lovely twin girls, being five years younger, they could still do a far more convincing job of landing one of the ton’s most eligible bachelors.

Alas, Aldora was in the market for a husband.

If the scandal sheets were to be believed, the elusive Marquess of St. James, who’d gone out of his way to avoid every marriage-minded miss, had finally entered the market for a wife—and Aldora was determined to secure that spot.