The Scottish Duke
Duke Trilogy #1
Duke Trilogy #1
by Karen Ranney
Releasing November 29th 2016
Avon Books
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…
From The Book Junkie Reads . . . The Scottish Duke (Duke Trilogy, #1) . . .
Some of my best historical romance
has to do with Scotland, young misses, and the death of a father pushing her into
something. Lorna was strong, intelligent and knew what she wanted and let
nothing get in the way. She also knew how to care for herself. She took a
chance and it turned in to a dream, but not all dreams are meant to be lived.
Lorna had to resort to un-lady like measures
when her father dies and leaves her. She does what had to be done to make a
living. The Duke of Kinross was not exactly a part of her plans when dashing
out in life, but he was certainly a goal worthy of having. Even if it was for
just one night. He was dashing, arrogant, sexy, and a bit out of sorts for not
attaining what he thought was his. With his mind afog and his attitude not
caring, he sees a vision in Maria Antoinette. That was where the farce began
and not end.
Some may see Lorna’s action as
foolish or even petty. I found her strong, fierce, independent. She knew her
own mind and desires. She was willing to accept what comes. I applauded her for
it.
There was plenty of time to get to
know the characters. The pace was moderate and not overwhelming. You knew what
was going on and could keep up with it as it went. I found multiple character to
latch on to and enjoy. Wondering if they would be in the next book or even be
the feature in another series.
I enjoyed this one very much and the
kick off to a new series was entertaining.
The Duke Trilogy series:
The
Scottish Duke – The Duke Trilogy, #1
The
English Duke – The Duke Trilogy, #2
Blurb
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.
Buy
Links:
The last thing Alexander Russell, the
9th Duke of Kinross, wanted to do was mingle with his guests. He could put the
time to better use. Nor did he have friends among the throng. Acquaintances,
perhaps, but few could be called more than that, especially after this
afternoon when he’d been subjected to a humiliating rout.
Nevertheless, Alex forced himself to
enter the ballroom, pasting a smile on his face that hid his true feelings.
The ballroom had been polished like a
seldom worn crown. The three rows of four brass and crystal chandeliers
illuminated every inch of the massive room, reflecting light off the windows
and making the floor shine.
The jewels in the crown were the
women, most of whom had taken to the idea of a fancy dress ball with
enthusiasm, choosing costumes ranging from stunning to amusing with a few
ridiculous examples in between. A half dozen hapless husbands were dressed to
compliment their wives’ choices, but most men were attired in black evening
dress.
At least twenty-five of them had
witnessed his drubbing this afternoon.
Tonight’s entertainment was the last
time he’d have to stand here and smile fatuously. He couldn’t wait for them all
to be driven back to the train station tomorrow morning, en route to their
various homes. The Scottish Society for Scientific Achievement could go to hell
and with it their annual medal.
Someone in this room was a traitor.
Not to country, even though they might well stoop to that. Someone here, being
feted and entertained, had betrayed him. That was the only reason Simons had
won the damn medal. Alex’s research was nearly word for word with the other man’s.
His subjects were more numerous, however, numbering in the thousands to Simons’
hundreds. Even Simons’ conclusions, enumerated on the last page of his paper,
had sounded too close to his own words. But his findings had been submitted to
the Society a good three months before Simon’s. Three months, yet Simons had
been the one critically acclaimed.
Someone had leaked the results of his
research. Either a member of the Society attending this ball, the last event of
a torturous week of hosting at Blackhall Castle, or someone to whom he’d
confided about his work.
“You must learn to trust people,
Alex,” his mother had once said to him.
He couldn’t remember why she’d offered
up the sentiment, but he could remember the occasion. They’d been standing in
Blackhall’s chapel and watching as the bronze plaque had been affixed to his
wife’s last resting place.
He could also recall his response.
He’d turned to her and said, “Why?”
She hadn’t an answer, which was a
pity. Perhaps her words could have softened his emotion. Ruth, the late Duchess
of Kinross, hadn’t been faithful, a fact that had been tearfully admitted by
her sister.
“You mustn’t hate her, Alex. Ruth
always wanted admiration. When you were too busy to give it to her, she sought
it elsewhere.”
His wife would have enjoyed this ball.
She would have purchased something ruinously expensive to wear, and no doubt a
little shocking. She would have flitted among the guests, charming everyone. He
could almost see her golden hair bobbing as she turned to greet one person then
another. The noise level was intense in the ballroom and his memory furnished
her laughter. Those who’d never come to Blackhall would leave with praises for
her on their lips.
She made us feel so welcome.
What a gracious person the duchess is.
How beautiful she is and that gown!
Ruth had a bright and receptive
approach to life. If it was interesting or exciting, Ruth wanted to experience
it. Her blond beauty was only enhanced by her trilling laugh, a smile that she
used to great advantage and a skilled, almost manipulative way, she had of
making any man feel as if he were the most important person in a room.
Ruth collected people the way other
women collected gloves. She had dozens of friends, each one of whom thought she
was the most important person in Ruth’s life. They never figured out that Ruth
didn’t care about them individually. She only wanted the adulation such friends
brought to her. The more important, titled, or wealthy the better. He had come
to believe it was the same reason she’d married him.
By the second month of his marriage he
realized she didn’t give a flying farthing for him. He was just a mark on a
mental scorecard, an item no more important than a scarf from her dresser or a
gown from her armoire.
After her death he’d been approached
by one poor sod who’d openly wept about her passing. He’d wanted to ask the man
if he genuinely believed Ruth had loved him, then realized that the truth
wouldn’t serve any purpose.
As far as he was concerned, Ruth
wasn’t capable of loving anyone other than herself.
He had no doubt that, given the
passage of years, she would have still charmed people. They would have said
things like: she hasn’t changed, has she? She’s still one of the most
beautiful women in Scotland, isn’t she?
Ruth would have gloried in their
comments. She would have draped herself in diamonds whose sparkle matched that
in her eyes. Did you hear that, Alex? They did enjoy themselves, didn’t
they? We should entertain again soon, I think.
Even perched in the middle of the
Highlands, Blackhall Castle had once been known for its hospitality, its
entertainments, and its beauty.
The beauty had never faded even though
it took a fortune to maintain. The entertainments were fewer lately; he hadn’t
the inclination to invite hoards of people to his home. And the hospitality? At
the moment, he wished them all to perdition, including the men from the Society
in their evening attire, clustered in small groups around the ballroom.
Who would Ruth have dressed as
tonight? He suspected she would prefer to come as herself, the Duchess of
Kinross. Or perhaps she would have stolen her sister’s costume. Mary was
Cleopatra, her long, white tunnel like dress adorned with an intricate gold
necklace. His mother was Queen Elizabeth, if he didn’t miss his guess, complete
with a bright curly red wig.
Why was Ruth at the forefront of his
mind tonight? Because he felt betrayed again? Because this was the first ball
they’d held since her death three years ago? Because he’d been made raw with
this feeling that he’d been a fool?
The orchestra his mother had hired was
excellent. They were playing a waltz and a great many people were dancing. He
should be a good host and greet his guests, but he had neither the will nor the
ability to mask his emotions that well. He was furious, the rage building with
each moment he stood there.
He waited until a footman was near,
then gave him an order in a low voice. In moments the young man returned with a
tumbler filled with whiskey.
“Watch me,” he said. “When it’s empty,
I want you to bring me another one.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
He didn’t drink often, but tonight he
was going to with the single minded pursuit of drunkenness. He could only
remember two times he’d done something similar in recent memory: the day he’d learned
his wife had been unfaithful and the day she’d died in childbirth, taking his
heir with her. Or perhaps the child hadn’t been his after all, a question he’d
never have answered.
Tonight seemed an excellent occasion
as well. He was facing the destruction of a dream, one brought about by someone
he’d trusted.
“You must learn to trust people,
Alex.”
The echo of his mother’s voice
intruded into his thoughts.
Why seemed as good a word as any in
response. Or perhaps a resounding no would suffice.
Buy Links:
Author Info
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.
Hosted
by
Presented
by
No comments:
Post a Comment