By Mia Marlowe
"Sebastian Blake, His Grace the Duke of Winterhaven, has a fixed rule in terms of mistresses. He by no means retains one longer than a flip of the season. yet he’s by no means met a lady as tempting as Arabella St. George…
A fiery operatic diva, Arabella is blackmailed into supporting the French. while she offers the envelope meant for a French murderer to the Duke of Winterhaven through mistake, she'll do whatever to retrieve it. no matter if she has to seduce him to do it...
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Additional resources for A Duke for All Seasons
A man she knew only too well. ” she cried out. His face split into a wide grin. “You’re further along than I thought, if you’re calling my name already,” he said, as if it were a grand joke. “But you needn’t be so HIS MISTRESS BY MORNING 23 formal, Lottie, my love. A rousing ‘Sebastian! ” He swept down to kiss her again, his hips moving perilously toward her ruination as they thrust down to meet hers. Lord Trent. Naked. Atop her. Calling her Lottie? ’Tis all a dream, she told herself, and for a split second that logic gave her some reassurance.
No longer Charlotte Wilmont, Quince’s magic had not only gained her Sebastian’s love, this house, but also a new name. She bit her lip and looked again at the letter. Mrs. Townsend. As in married? Her knees quaked, and she sought the refuge of a chair, her hand shaking as she glanced again at the seemingly innocent looking correspondence in her hand. Even worse, there was something vaguely familiar about the handwriting. The click of heels echoed down the stairs, announcing Finella’s return, and with it, Charlotte’s gaze jerked upward to find her mother’s cousin parading into the room, gloriously gowned in burnished gold, an outrageously large hat perched atop her head, aflutter in plumes and silk flowers.
He tugged on his jacket. “The sight of you in your box will make a predictably dull evening bearable. I’ll be devising the perfect seduction for later. ” He plopped a kiss on her brow and ruffled her hair. “Wear blue, and don’t you dare arrive with Rockhurst, you contemptible little vixen. ” He strode to the door. ” He winked and was gone. Charlotte didn’t know how long she sat there staring at the closed door through which he’d departed. Lord Trent. Kissing her. Naked. She went over the events slowly, trying to make sense of them.