Duke In Bridgerton Novels & Stories

It was the Christ the King celebration, and he was to chair the fair trade and the commissioning of the grotto that followed the procession, until Fabian appeared with news he had assumed he had dealt with temporarily. “What still holds her death? Why does she still roam the manor?” He stopped in front of Fabian to ask, even when he had been told the reason a thousand times. Fabian just stood in the darkness of the room, staring back at Edric and wishing he could control himself. “I am so close to being the next duke, so close to sitting on that seat of power and dining with the king,” he said aloud as he resumed pacing the room again, not caring if anyone overheard him.

“You aren’t breaking anyone’s heart. No one has to know that this whole thing is fake. Also, no matter what you say, they’ll assume that I get bored of you. If you want to go through with this revenge, you have to marry me. You have to be the one who tames the wild duke.” Katherine rolled her eyes. “You are not a duke yet. You’re an earl.” “True but I don’t think saying you’re the one who tames the wild ‘soon to be’ a duke sounds great.” She laughed. Damn it, even when he drove her crazy, he still managed to get her smile. “Well that isn’t just a step, that’s a leap right there,” he commented, one corner of his mouth rose and formed a charming, lopsided smile.

Was there an impending danger? By nature, the Duke was a quiet, brooding man who had not hesitated to claim her friendship however she fought. His tendency to evade questions, and pry deep into matters that were not of his concern, made Beth unsettled. He would somehow get the other person to pour out their truth, while all he would give of his were his exhalation. But Beth had to admit that at the base of her thoughts she wished a male friend to tell of the tales of men and their endless escapades, like Eric had told. She was glad the Duke was hers, and even though she doubted getting such unholy tales, she would still be entertained, wouldn't she?

"Every time he sees me, he just tries to send me away. Maybe I'm not his type." The Duke, clad only in a pair of breeches, arched a brow. He seemed to be unfazed by her beauty. "Does he have a type?" "Most of the time, yes, petite, golden blonde, blue eyes... nothing out of the world." "Ugh," she scoffed, taming her raven-black hair with her fingertips. She was a stunning, full-figured woman with dark hair. Was she the Duke's type? If he preferred tall, curvy brunettes with caramel skin and brown eyes, then I clearly didn't fit the mold, not even one bit.

I made sure I was using my masculine voice while avoiding how my stomach somersaulted when he was right in front of me and his scent filled my nostrils. Count Fortue appeared. "Escort His Grace to the changing room and bestow him a set of suits." Then he placed his hand on my shoulder and whispered. "Be certain that you pick a high-quality suit for him. He is the Duke of Alsfield, do remember that." Not knowing what had happened but I just nodded. "As you wish, Lord Fortue." I turned at Valerian, who was looking at me intently. "This way, Your Grace." I ushered him to where the changing room.

Whatever they were saying, I figured it was best to go with the flow. He studied my face longer before blinking, “I’m happy for you,” I don’t want you to be happy for me. Not for this. “I have a thing. I need to go” he said and left. “What the hell? I thought you were in love with Edward. Why on earth are you dating Paul?” after all the conversation, Duke finally spoke, clearly bewildered. I sighed, deeply and threw my face in my palms. “I want to cry” “The stage is all yours”

The only indicator of life was the quiet presence of someone who had actually once suited this location like another completely put piece of pricey furniture. She strolled in calm and sure, like she had actually returned to declare what was hers. Through the tall windows, she saw him. Duke stood on the balcony, radiant in the soft gold of the city lights. He held a glass of gewurztraminer in one hand, his body still and steady. Initially he looked unwinded, however the tightness in his shoulders gave him away. He wasn't calm at all. Lisa remained out of sight. She went to the door, opened it slowly, and stepped onto the terrace.

the man said while huffing his pipe. A blond haired man leaned down at to get a fleeting glance of white hair, which disappeared into the door below. "That.... she is Miss Eloise Ayles, her father Harem Ayles a small viscount passed away recently so they are moving to their mother's home town in your duchy. What you don't know about that? What kind of a Duke are you, huh?" he jokingly said. "hmmm, she seems silly," he whispered, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

The thick lips that used to be kissed are more enticing. The Duke’s formal dress consisted of a white shirt trimmed to the top and encircled by a cravat, a black vest, and a maroon suit matching his fiancee’s gown. A pin on Carleton’s family crest stuck in his pocket. It’s like Rosetta’s fallen in love again the umpteenth time. “Are you ready, My Lady?” asked Lucas, bending the elbow and letting Rosetta hold his hands around. “Yes, My Lord. Let’s go,“ replied Rosetta. Her smile grew wide.

Her late best friend was right - the duke wasn’t as brilliant as they made him out to be. After giving him a moment to see the real her, her layers came back on. “Your Grace, how have you been? Oh, it’s so nice to see you taking care of Sush. I knew there was a spark between you two! You’re both so cute together, like a big ball of love just waiting to explode into little love fragments for the babies.”