Page 1 of A Duke in the Rough

CHAPTER 1

LONDON, LATE MAY 1829

“He’s here! He’s here!”

Lady Honoria Bell’s gaze jerked away from the agenda as Anne Weatherby rushed all aflutter into the room. The meeting had already begun, but Anne was late—as usual.

“Goodness, Anne. Calm yourself. And who precisely ishere?” Honoria gestured around the small group comprising only women.

Anne plunked into the chair. Her bonnet sat askew, strands of red hair fell loosely around her face, and pink colored her cheeks. “Well, not here, here, of course. But here in England!”

Honoria exchanged glances with the other ladies. Operating under the guise of a charitable organization, the small group called themselves the London Ladies’ League to couch their true purpose. Her gaze drifted to a copy ofThe Muckrakerin Anne’s hands—the subject of which preciselywasthe reason they had gathered.

“I just called the meeting to order. If your news is in relation to that scandal sheet, then discussing the latest gossip is first on my list.”

Still breathless, Anne huffed. “But you don’t have the latest. A boy is handing out this copy on the streets right now!”

Contrary to what many would imagine occurred when women discussed rumors, the London Ladies’ League did not delight in the sordid stories presented inThe Muckraker,but were on a mission to unmask and stop the perpetrator who spread the ruinous bits of calumny.

Although she was the unanimously elected leader of the group, Honoria still believed in giving everyone a voice. “Anyone in favor of starting with Anne’s news, please raise your hand.”

Anne, of course, raised her hand. The sister of Andrew Weatherby, she had received her fair share of attention from the despicable paper which called her a brainless flirt and voted her most likely to face the parson with a white swelling.

Lady Miranda Townsend, daughter of the Earl of Easton, also raised her hand. Not only had her brother, Laurence, the notoriously straitlaced Viscount Montgomery, been caught in a compromising position with Beatrix Marbry four years prior, but Miranda had confided in Honoria that she had her own motive for wishing to stop the horrendous paper, although she refrained from providing those reasons.

Lady Charlotte Talbot, sister of the Marquess of Edgerton, lifted her hand. Her second eldest brother, Lord Nash Talbot, had been the prior year’s target ofThe Muckrakerwhen he was accused of murder and then—to society’s even greater disdain—married an American.

But of all of them, Honoria received both the most attention and the most vicious attacks. For the last eight years, she’d been the target of gossip, starting when she was but seventeen-years-old. Whispers of herruinationby a servant had been so damaging her parents delayed her come-out until her nineteenth birthday in an attempt to quell the wagging tongues. Subsequent scandals followed, all associated with suitors. However, little did the gossip sheet know that when Dr. Timothy Marbry ended his courtship with Honoria to marry Priscilla Pratt, Honoria was the one who encouraged the action.

Most recently, her feigned attachment with the aforementioned Lord Nash Talbot had sealed her fate as unmarriageable.

Raising her own hand, Honoria said, “Everyone is in agreement, Anne. You may proceed with your news.”

Anne cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, adopting an air of seriousness contrary to her bubbly, youthful personality. “The Duke of Burwood has finally arrived in England. Rather than coming to London, as one would expect, he’s taken up residence at his ducal seat in Dorset.”

“Itislate in the Season for him to appear before Parliament,” Charlotte said. “Edgerton says the session will soon close.”

“And he seems in no rush to assume his duties,” Miranda said. “It’s been nigh on two years since old Burwood passed on.”

Honoria nodded. She’d heard the same from her father. “Which means since this may be our last meeting before we return to our country homes, perhaps we should concentrate our efforts on more pressing matters than a newly minted duke.”

The corners of Anne’s mouth tipped down, but just as suddenly, her face brightened. “We can hold more meetings during the new duke’s house party.”

All heads turned toward Anne.

But Miranda, being the most vocal among them, was not one to mince words. “What house party?”

As much as Honoria liked Anne, she wanted to shake the girl—only a little, mind you—as she held up the horrid scandal sheet dramatically. “The Muckrakersays he will be hosting a house party next month at his estate to introduce himself to society. Invitations will be forthcoming.”

Honoria blinked. “How in heaven’s name does he find out these things?”

Miranda, astute as ever, picked up on Honoria’s reference. “If the perpetrator ofThe Muckrakerisa man. It could be a woman.”

“It pains me to think a woman is responsible for such tripe,” Charlotte said.

Honoria couldn’t agree more.

“But this isn’t tripe.” Anne wavedThe Muckraker. “Oh, very well, the scandal sheet is tripe, but the bit about Burwood is exciting. Just think. A house party where all of society will be invited.” A dreamy expression crossed Anne’s face. “There will probably be a ball, and games, and”—she waggled her eyebrows—“lots of eligible men.”

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