A Duke to Ruin her

A Duke to Ruin her A STEAMY HISTORICAL REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL MAYBEL BARDOT Contents Before You Start Reading… Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Chapter 40 Chapter 41 Chapter 42 Epilogue Extended Epilogue Preview: A Duke’s Lessons of Seduction Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Also by Maybel Bardot About the Author Before You Start Reading… Did you know that there’s a special place where you can chat with me and with thousands of like-minded bookworms all over the globe?! Join Cobalt Fairy’s facebook group of voracious readers and I guarantee you, you’d wish you had joined us sooner! Let’s connect, right NOW! Just click on the image above! ⇧ About the Book “He wants me to satisfy him, not start a family.” Unsuccessful in her search for a husband everyone thinks Lady Margaret is cursed. And she might as well be when her clumsiness finds her on top of her childhood friend, in front of the whole ton. Blaming himself for the death of his parents, Duke Harold vows his lineage will end with him. That is until he is caught in a scandal with the first woman he ever desired. Marrying her first love, malicious rumors try to break them apart. And they just might succeed when Margaret realizes Harold will give her everything, except for a child… Chapter One London, 1802 “Is this not the most wonderful ball?” asked Suzanne. She did not look at Margaret as she spoke, looking across the dance floor instead to where some of the men were gathered. “It is the most wonderful,” agreed Margaret. “I am glad my father received an invitation,” added Mary. “He tells me that it is hard to get an invite to this event. Everyone who is anyone is here. My dance card was filled as soon as I got here.” “Oh, mine too.” Suzanne tapped coyly at her wrist. “Have you danced yet, Margaret?” “No,” said Margaret softly. “I believe that I shall dance the next one.” Her hand went instinctively to her wrist, rubbing the card that contained her two dance slots, both of them still empty. “Who do you have your eye on tonight?” asked Mary, she, too, looking out across the dance floor and not at Margaret as she asked questions. “I believe there is a baron who is very handsome,” said a wistful Margaret. There were many barons who were handsome, many gentlemen who made her temperature rise, and she could hope and dream, couldn’t she? “Yes,” agreed Mary. “There are many handsome men here tonight. The Duke of Lowcastle asked me to dance, but I had to refuse him—my card was already full. I did not know what to do in that situation, but I believe my father handled it.” The two women were looking at Margaret now, expecting an answer even though a question had not been asked. “Yes, best to leave it to your father,” responded Margaret, as if she had been in that exact situation. Mary nodded and beamed at Margaret. The two women looked so young. They were perhaps only eighteen, five years shy of her age, and this could have been the first ball they had attended. Perhaps they would find their future husbands tonight, and they would never need to return to another ball, or not in the context of this great search for a man, at least. They were so full of hope. Margaret could not remember if she had been full of hope at that age—she could barely remember the balls she had attended at that age. They all blurred together into one large literal ball of failure. Their failure, not hers. She had tried, she really had, but she did not have the youthful exuberance of Mary and Suzanne, even at the same age. “The next dance is about to begin,” announced Mary for want of something to say. “Good luck,” said Suzanne. Margaret smiled and nodded. As soon as the two women turned and walked away, Margaret slunk back toward the far wall, behind some of the gathered guests who were not there to find love. The large hall was filled with the excited chatter of young men and women who were eager to partner up and become consumed by the shared excitement. At only twenty-three, Margaret felt as if life were passing her by. She looked from pairing to pairing, the couples smiling wantonly at each other, some pressing themselves far too close when they danced, making their intentions clear to all in the room, and some were polite with each other, the partners not a match, but still, having fun, nonetheless. Margaret could not remember the last time she danced with a man who was genuinely interested in her. Margaret slunk back against the wall as the music started up. To make matters worse, it was a song Margaret enjoyed, and she would dance to it alone if it were aloud, but she had to settle for tapping her fingers on her wrists as the dancing began. Long, silken dresses flowed across the dance floor; beautiful fabrics garnered from close and afar. Margaret looked down at her own blue cotton dress. Pink flowers had been embroidered into the fabric. She had worn the dress on three separate occasions, not that she was counting, but she could not expect her father to buy a different dress for each ball. He had done that at the beginning, but he would be out of house and home if he continued to do so. As the music hit a crescendo, Margaret