What I Did For a Duke: Pennyroyal Green Series
Julie Anne Long
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“A fresh voice that stands out….Delicious and delightful!”
Romance superstar Amanda Quick calls Julie Anne Long, “a fantastic writer,” and says, “her writing glows.” Suzanne Enoch calls Long’s work, “warm, witty, and fabulous!” This rapidly rising star of historical romance dazzles once again with What I Did For a Duke—the next fabulous installment in her sensual and emotionally charged Pennyroyal Green series. This Regency delight focuses on a dark duke with a sinful reputation and his determined efforts to seduce and ruin the innocent sister of his enemy—only to fall victim himself to the gentle lady’s good nature and passionate soul. What I Did For a Duke follows Long’s delightful I Kissed an Earl, continuing the colorful feud between the Eversea and Redmond families, and it’s one of the most scandalously entertaining love stories in many a season.
moment he dutifully inhaled. He stopped. His concerned hosts ringed him. Through watering eyes he gained an impression of sympathetic watching eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Ian Eversea trying not to look hopeful about his impending demise. He put up one finger: Momentarily. “That’ll clear a man’s lungs, by God, won’t it, Moncrieffe.” Jacob Eversea was waiting patiently. “We’re not going to lose you, are we?” “By God,” Moncrieffe croaked, when he could speak again.
What on earth would he find in it? He looked about the salon just as she had. This way and that, ensuring no one was looking directly at him. He hoped he’d find nudes and was at the same time rather worried he would. He opened her sketchbook furtively. He turned the first page up by one corner, took a peek. And then he turned it all the way over. He stared for a good long time at the first drawing. She nearly bounced on her toes awaiting his verdict. “Lady Blenkenship?”
as she absorbed the impact of this observation. She was attempting to decode it. So she wasn’t immune to the compliment. She simply didn’t trust it. In truth, he hadn’t fully expected to say it himself. Where on earth had it come from? This was what unnerved him. And to think he’d once thought her face ordinary. How could anyone think this was a quiet girl? Her stillness and calm were deceptive. She disturbed him the way the approach of a distant storm did; she enervated him. She
she saw a flash of teeth. A grin. Bloody man. She dropped the curtain, but stood staring at it as if she could stare right through it. Her heart had started up a thudding that sent blood ringing through her ears, but she moved as quickly as if she were fleeing war drums. She slid her arms through the deep brown, fur-lined pelisse and turned to stare. This time her eyes were on the clock. And it was after midnight. She flew down the back stairs, slippers in her hands until she
thank you for hearing me out, then, Moncrieffe,” he managed with sodden dignity, even if it was an afterthought. “As I said, I had a plan. For you see, I never could quite read her heart. I thought . . . I thought she loved me, too. But I never dared propose because I hadn’t enough money to suit her father. I’ll inherit a title but I’ve no home to give to a wife. Not yet. I’ve tried to earn money on my own, but I thought, well, if she loves me I might very well chance it; if I knew for certain