a new series about dashing, charismatic dukes—
and the women who tame them…
and the women who tame them…
THE SCOTTISH DUKE
The Duke Trilogy #1
Karen Ranney
Releasing Nov 29th, 2016
Avon Books
New York Times bestselling
author Karen Ranney returns with the first novel in a new series about dashing,
charismatic dukes—and the women who tame them…
Though raised as a gentleman’s daughter, Lorna Gordon is obliged to take a position as an upstairs maid at Blackhall Castle when her father dies. Alex Russell, the Duke of Kinross, is the most tempting man she’s ever seen—and completely unattainable—until, at a fancy dress ball, Lorna disguises herself as Marie Antoinette and pursues an illicit tryst…with scandalous consequences.
Months after his mysterious seductress disappears, Alex encounters her again. Far from the schemer the distrustful duke assumed her to be, Lorna is fiercely independent and resourceful. She’s the one woman capable of piercing his defenses. But when danger threatens Lorna, Alex must prove himself not just the lover of her fantasies, but the man who will fight to protect her.
Though raised as a gentleman’s daughter, Lorna Gordon is obliged to take a position as an upstairs maid at Blackhall Castle when her father dies. Alex Russell, the Duke of Kinross, is the most tempting man she’s ever seen—and completely unattainable—until, at a fancy dress ball, Lorna disguises herself as Marie Antoinette and pursues an illicit tryst…with scandalous consequences.
Months after his mysterious seductress disappears, Alex encounters her again. Far from the schemer the distrustful duke assumed her to be, Lorna is fiercely independent and resourceful. She’s the one woman capable of piercing his defenses. But when danger threatens Lorna, Alex must prove himself not just the lover of her fantasies, but the man who will fight to protect her.
Blackhall Castle
Scottish Highlands
Scottish Highlands
June, 1861
“It
would be a waste of my time to tell you this is foolish, wouldn’t it? You
wouldn’t pay any attention.”
Nan stepped back and surveyed Lorna,
shaking her head all the while.
The room they shared was small and
with only a tiny mirror over the common bureau. Nan would have to be her eyes.
Each maid was assigned an oil lamp
and a certain amount of oil. If it was used before the end of the month, she
had to dress in the dark, a way of ensuring that she rationed the light better
the following month.
Lorna hadn’t used any of her oil for
a week, saving it all for this one night.
“Maybe it is foolish,” she said,
glancing down at the wide panniers of the gown she wore. “But it is such a
magical evening and when would I have another chance to experience a ball at
Blackhall?”
“You’re a maid, Lorna,” Nan said,
sighing heavily. “Not a guest.”
“Tonight, though, Nan, no one will
know.”
Nan made a sign in the air and she
obediently turned so that the back of the dress could be inspected.
Things happened for a reason, didn’t
they? The housekeeper had sent her to find a certain table in the attic and
she’d gone, reluctant to climb into the darkened space. She couldn’t disobey
Mrs. McDermott. The dear lady had taken her on when she hadn’t a whit of
training or background in service.
To her surprise, the attic wasn’t
gloomy or dark at all. Porthole windows along the outer wall let in the June
sunlight. For an hour she’d pulled up one sheet after another, only discovering
the table at the far end of the attic. Between the stairs and the door, however,
there’d been dozens and dozens of trunks, each begging to be opened and
inspected.
In the third trunk she’d found the
carefully wrapped wig and the golden dress with the panniers. A fortuitous
find, especially since they’d been preparing for the fancy dress ball at
Blackhall for over a month.
She was not one to overlook
circumstances, especially when they were calling out to her. Her father had
often said that fortune favors the bold – fortuna audaces iuvat.
“We could have found a dress for
you, too,” she said now as she tugged on the wig.
She’d taken the precaution of
grabbing some flour from the kitchen. None of her training had given her any
insight into fashions from a hundred years ago, but the wig had given off a
cloud of finely milled powder and the only thing she could think of to
substitute was flour. Nan dipped a powder puff into the bowl and patted it on
her temples and the tall crown of hair adorned with gold bows.
“I’m not as brave as you.”
“Or as foolish,” Lorna said.
“That, too.” Nan stepped back and
surveyed her handiwork. “Mrs. McDermott will have no choice but to dismiss you
if you’re found out.”
“Then I’ll make sure I’m not
discovered.” She turned and smiled at Nan. “It’s a fancy dress ball, Nan.
Everyone will be wearing masks. No one will know who I am.”
“Oh, Lorna.”
“What?” she asked.
Nan shook her head again. “You see
what you want to see, Lorna. You have ever since I’ve known you. You’re lucky
Mrs. McDermott didn’t assign you to serve the guests. What would you have done
then? Come up with some sort of sickness?”
“I would have found some way,” she
said, smiling down at Nan.
She’d been deliberately clumsy this
past week, especially in the housekeeper’s sight for that very reason. She’d
dropped an armload of books she was dusting, fumbled with the jar of spent tea
leaves used to clean the carpets, and repeatedly stumbled holding her brushes
and pail.
After all that, Mrs. McDermott would
have been foolish to select her as one of the servers. Better to dismiss her
early, send her to her room, and instruct her to appear at dawn to help clean
the ballroom. To her relief the housekeeper had done exactly that.
“Well, how do I look?” she asked,
carefully affixing the mask strings behind her ears. That, too, had been
another miraculous find, a sign that she had to attend the ball.
It was as if Providence, well aware
of her barely contained curiosity and fascination, had provided her with a way
to see the Duke of Kinross up close. Granted, it would only be for a few hours
on a June night in the Scottish Highlands, but who was she to deny Providence?
“You look beautiful,” Nan said,
nodding. “The gold makes your brown eyes sparkle. And the white wig accentuates
your complexion.”
“Could I pass for one of the
guests?”
Nan sighed again. “Yes, but I’m not
sure that’s a good thing.”
“My father was Robert Gordon. I’m
the equal to most of them there.”
“But it isn’t because of most of
them that you’re going, is it? It’s to see the duke. We both know how foolish
that is.”
Lorna reached over and hugged Nan,
depositing a fair share of flour onto the other girl’s shoulders. Apologizing,
she pulled back.
“Don’t worry, Nan. I’ll go and
pretend to be someone else for a few hours. Then I’ll return and be a well
disciplined upper maid, I promise.”
Nan didn’t appear convinced. Nor was
Lorna, if she were to tell the truth. It was going to be so difficult to be
herself after tonight.
Karen
Ranney wanted to be a writer from the time she was five
years old and filled her Big Chief tablet with stories. People in stories did
amazing things and she was too shy to do anything amazing. Years spent in
Japan, Paris, and Italy, however, not only fueled her imagination but proved
she wasn't that shy after all.
Now
a New York Times and USA Today bestseller,
she prefers to keep her adventures between the covers of her books. Karen lives
in San Antonio, Texas.
1 comment:
Thank you for hosting THE SCOTTISH DUKE today!
Crystal, Tasty Book Tours
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