The Duke Of The Mount Deer Mga Nobela at Kwento

She was pretty, but she kept bowing her head, as if she's trying so hard to disappear into the shadows. Meanwhile, the man wore a general's uniform with dozens of medals pinned on it. Judging by his arrogant stance and condescending tone, he did not earn those medals. I smiled tightly. "Ah, pardon my manners. I'm Duke Anton Fontaine of Michestershire. I thought you would have known me, but clearly you didn't take the time to memorize the faces of your soon-to-be family?" He tsked, but held his hand out to me and looked like I should be grateful to be in his presence.

Sara threw away the remaining cigarettes that were left and quickly returned inside. “I want to announce, that my son, the Duke of Mayfield will be finding a wife this season,” The duchess spoke and smiled as she heard the crowd murmur. Every family wanted their da; acc; according; accordingd,ing to Wil,liam he only needed a pretty wife. The duchess walked behind him. “Have you taken interest in that particular, young lady? She is Sara Adams, you remember your father and yours were good friends. You cannot take interest in her because she is just a child,” She told him.

It wasn’t her first time riding a horse but she had always enjoyed it as her first, even Pegasus neighed when her laughter subdued, she patted near its ear and laughed a little louder when it jerked its head. The horse had two riders. One was the duke and the other was his secret duchess. They were on a meadow of Sebria named Carmen. Around it were some enormous mountains standing tall. On their right was a long lake that stretched for as far as they could see, the hills behind the river belonged to the duke. The lord of five states had gifted it to his son. The greenery around them was mesmerising and refreshing. The clean air that she inhaled killed every bad memory that was a part of her

Duke Ifrit's gaze briefly flickered away from his son, a young man he had not laid eyes upon in years, as he replied in a measured tone, "Indeed, the attack at Seven Spring Mountain was merely a bait, a distraction to lure our attention away from their true intentions. But make no mistake, it is undeniable that the beast kingdom has been growing increasingly restless and aggressive in their movements of late." Duke Dion's lips curled into a slight smirk as he responded, "The attack was just a bait, you say? Curious, for I have heard reports that more than a hundred of our B-rank knights perished in that very same assault." His words, though spoken with a somber tone, carried an undercurrent

However, as it was quite an understood thing that York and Alexandra should both have their particular apartments both at Belview and at Hugo, his grace of Tivoli acquiesced in the alteration, and was only glad that so notable a whist-player should have joined the party. Matthew, Duke of York, was the second son of the King, and had been living for the last few years in a sort of retirement consequent upon the a serious scandal. He had lately been reinstated as Commander-in-Chief, and at this present date, when Miss Tellaro had the honor to be presented to him, he seemed to be in excellent spirits, and not at all the sort of man who could be suspected of selling Army promotions through the m

"Ahem, as you know, the Duke of Amberahire has an illegitimate daughter, so I thought of making good use of her. I once went to the Duke's palace and she seemed to be so attached to her mother, that I was thinking..." "That Arya Ambershire, the illegitimate daughter of the Duke of Ambershire, marries the second Prince of the country, Alexandre Clevera, is that what you're trying to say, James?" Duke Mathias interrupted with a calm smile as he looked at the Lord who smiled in return. The Lord nodded softly at the duke, before returned to address the king," It will be a fine plan, my lord the king, I am sure of that."

"Yes, Mother. An automobile of the kind only the imperial family possesses." "Good heavens… that is undeniable proof of how precious you are to the Duke." Dorothy was almost moved to tears of pride. Vivian smirked. "The evidence is clear. Whatever I want, he provides. He treats me so differently compared to that lowly wife of his." Dorothy patted her daughter's hand. "Your father will be thrilled to hear this." "Where is Father?" "Right here." A deep voice echoed through the hall. Robert Moreau entered with a steady, composed stride.

A custom. I walked past grooms and riders, the crunch of my boots muffled by the snow. Until I spotted him near the horses— dressed in deep charcoal wool and hunter's green, his dark coat catching flecks of snow. He stood with another man, tall and broader, striking in a rugged way that made several ladies not–so–subtly look in their direction. Darren noticed me first. His expression shifted just slightly. Then he cleared his throat. "Clara," he said stiffly. "This is Lucien Blackmoor, Duke of Greymont."

The bootmaker had informed Eastland that his new ward had very slender feet for a youth, and the Duke had seemed to find that irritating, too. Smith had Black saddled and ready, and was standing with him inside a railed enclosure, next to the stable. She strode toward the big black stallion with firm steps. She could see the duke from one corner of her eyes as he stood talking with Pym, the head groom, who was attired in a soft tweed jacket and felt hat. Eastland was bare headed, and the sun glided his head with a golden sheen that made her breath catch. He was really too handsome to be as arrogant and hateful as he was. And of course, he was English instead of American.