Page 1 of The Duke of her Dreams

ChapterOne

“Your Grace,” a voice intoned from the corner, cutting through Theodore’s fitful rest. Even in his sleep, he recognized the man. It was his trusted steward and confidant, Perceval. Usually, he waited till the sun was up before bringing any sort of messages to Theodore.

The woman beside him — his mistress for the night — shifted and wrapped her hands around Theodore’s torso. He shifted away from her grasp, wanting to return to his dreams once more.

“What do you want?” Theodore growled in his sleep, not wanting to attend to any matters. His head was ringing from the copious amounts of whiskey he ingested at the gentlemen’s club on St. James Street. Any matters concerning the Wallington Estate were on hold.

“I have brought an urgent letter from the Dowager Duchess, Your Grace,” Perceval explained while striding to the window.

“Do not open the windows,” Theodore warned. “My head is still ringing.”

“It is rather important that you stop drinking, Your Grace. I will have the maid bring in some garlic and hawthorn tea to clear your head.”

Theodore sat up slowly, resting against the headboard. He slid the silk sheets a little higher over Eloise’s shoulders. Though she was a prostitute, she served him quite well.

“I prefer the darkness, Perceval. What does my grandmother want?”

Perceval held out the letter with both hands, showing the Wallington seal, which made Theodore groan. He hated going to his grandmother’s house, and she was not really the best correspondent. Instead, she wanted him to leave the affairs of the estate and come to London for silly balls and tea parties — both of which he hated with all his life.

He opened the letter, tearing the envelope with a small paper knife. When Theodore saw the scratchy handwriting that he was well acquainted with, a sigh escaped his lips.

“Leave me,” Theodore said and dropped the envelope to the ground.

Perceval nodded. “May I ask your guest to excuse you as well, Your Grace?”

Theodore glared at his steward, and he immediately understood. “Eloise is to sleep as long as she wants without any interruption.”

When Perceval left, Theodore got back to the letter.

My Dear Theodore,

I wish to tell you of all my woes and sorrows concerning your lack of effort in socializing and attending functions in London. Many mamas and debutantes have been seeking an eligible bachelor for the Season, and I have been doing my best to keep them on hold.

That alone is taking all of my strength, along with the mischievous fever that seems to have set foot in London this Spring. I am currently unwell and laying down whilst hoping that every breath is not my last. Also, my leg which had been broken a few years back is troubling me once again.

I know that the affairs of the estate leave for little time on your hands because of your assiduous planning, but surely, you will have time to visit your ailing grandmother back in London. Maybe seeing the face of family will make the fever less acute.

I have also sent a letter to your brother, Sebastian, inviting him over to Clyvedon House for a few weeks. I intend to spend my remaining time with family rather than entertaining the gossip of the ton. I only hope that you see the urgency in this letter and come soon.

Dowager Duchess of Wallington

Theodore folded the letter into a crisp square and placed it under the candlelight. His body was now on high alert as the contents of the letter floated through his head repeatedly.

“Is this some sort of prank?” he asked himself, trying to find reasons for his grandmother’s urgent call.

His grandmother was never sick. Always full of health and gossip, throwing parties and balls for her own entertainment. It was one of the many reasons why Theodore stayed away from his grandmother. She was always finding ways to match make him withdelectable ladiesas she called them.

“Something wrong, Your Grace?” Eloise asked, trailing her fingers over Theodore’s thigh.

All thoughts of his ailing grandmother escaped his mind. Not that he was romantically involved with a lady of the night, but he took some comfort in Eloise’s company.

“My grandmother is not well. Some fever she said.”

Eloise instantly looked horrified. “Fever? I heard it is becoming rather common in Clyvedon and Westminster.”

Theodore raised an eyebrow. “Common? What do you know about it?”

“A friend told me that her mother was sick. I got another message a few days later from another friend. Then another until the list grew long.”

---