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Call Me Duchess [MultiFormat]
eBook by Maggie Dove
eBook Category: Historical Fiction/Romance
eBook Description: A rapist is loose in London?and he has plans for Marguerite Wiggins. Grippingly suspenseful and romantic, CALL ME DUCHESS is one young woman's stunning journey to find love in 1870s London while a dashingly handsome chaperone, a heinous villain, and her own lofty aspirations stand in her way. Left penniless by their father, Marguerite Wiggins and her sisters must find husbands during the London season or find work as governesses by season's end. Determined to become the next Duchess of Wallingford, Marguerite must make the difficult decision between following her heart or attaining her lifelong dreams and ambitions as a depraved rapist seeks to make her his next victim. Excerpt: The warmth of his hand and the burr of his manly baritone sent a tingle up Marguerite's spine. She stood stock-still, instantly mesmerized, as she looked up into his deep, dark, brown eyes. He was so devilishly handsome, he nearly took her breath away. "Hello, Meggie," he drawled, releasing her hand. Marguerite could not find her voice. She did not know if she was more shocked by his casual familiarity or by the teasing, almost mocking glint in his eyes. All too vividly, the embarrassing train ride came back to haunt her. Samantha's eyes shifted from Marguerite to Ashton James. "You know my cousin's name? I was not aware you were acquainted with one another." His lips twitched. "Oh, yes. I'm quite familiar with Miss Wiggins and her sisters. Right, Meggie?" Under his watchful gaze, Marguerite felt herself blush. "I don't know him."
eBook Publisher: Eternal Press/Damnation Books LLC/Eternal Press, Published: 2011, 2011
Fictionwise Release Date: January 2011
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Chapter One
It was unseasonably chilly for a spring evening when Archibald Wiggins, after a long day of gambling, finally arrived at the modest cottage he called home. Cursing the painful gout that denied him a moment's peace, he hung his frock coat in the entryway and dragged his aching, heavy body to join his three daughters in the study.
The cozy room welcomed him with the warmth of a flickering fire as Archibald stepped inside to find the three young women engaged in different activities. He quickly took a deep breath and fixed a smile. "Hello, darlings!"
Winifred put down her stitching at the sight of him. "Papa, where have you been?" she asked. "We ate supper without you."
Penelope ceased playing the piano and ran into his arms. "Papa, did you hear me play? Isn't it wonderful how I've improved?"
Marguerite, enthralled in her book, did not bother to acknowledge his presence.
"Yes, love, it sounded wonderful," Archibald lied. Unlike his dear, departed wife, Lydia, who had been quite the talented pianist, Penelope had not inherited the aptitude for the instrument. Penny's music grated so heavily on his ears, he had tried to gamble away the piano for years. Unfortunately, unlike Marguerite's horse, no one had been interested in wagering for it.
"Be careful, love. You are standing too close to my bad foot." Disentangling himself from Penelope, he addressed his other daughters. "What have you been doing all day, my loves?"
Winifred shrugged her shoulders. "What are we to do, Papa? It is too cold for outside activity. We are quite bored, I'm afraid."
"I'm sorry, ducklings. I've had a miserable day, too. I'm in bad need of a drink," Archibald declared, making his way to the last expensive bottle of imported port left in the cottage.
"Haven't you had enough, Papa?" Marguerite inquired, still not bothering to look up from her book.
"Bah--it's never enough!" Archibald replied, waving his hand in a gesture of dismissal. Bringing the bottle with him to the sofa, he uncorked it and poured himself a glass. "I'm going to savor every last drop. There's hardly any left."
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