All I Want for Christmas Is a Duke Read Online Free PDF Page A

muffs gathered inside the confectionary shop, pointing excitedly to everything they wanted as their mothers and fathers obligingly counted out coins from their purses. A large wooden tray of toffee sat on the corner of the mahogany counter where a man in a white apron was breaking the sweet apart with a small hammer before wrapping pieces of it in brown paper and string.
    A breath escaped Jane, whitening the air and the glass before her. Realizing she couldn’t see the cake she had come to pay respects to, she used her glove to swipe away the fog her breath had created.
    Through the smeared glass, she eyed the four-tiered spice cake. It represented everything a cake ought to be: glorious and bountiful. Though she doubted she could afford it. Leaning over to the side and peering through all the other pastries, Jane wondered if there was anything else she could buy for Mrs. Granger for ten shillings or less.
    The heavy scuffing of boots in the snow beside her drew her attention.
    A dashingly tall gentleman in an expensive horsehair top hat and heavy greatcoat stepped in beside her. His muscled frame widened as he tucked large gloved hands behind his broad back and scanned the lavish display of cakes and pastries. A footman bundled in a thick winter cloak dutifully lined up behind them, making her pause.
    Tightening her hold on her reticule, she glanced back at the footman in red livery who stoically observed her from beneath a hat as the snow whirled down.
    The gentleman, whom the footman was servicing, turned toward her as if he’d been meaning to all along. Intently searching her face with obsidian eyes that made her swallow, he inclined his head.
    The unexpected crisp scent of mint wafted from the heat of his greatcoat, caressed the cold air between them.
    She awkwardly fingered her reticule and edged away.
    He waved off the footman, who promptly returned to a crest-emblazoned carriage waiting at the curb.
    She paused. She knew that crest. Dearest heaven. It had been years since she had seen it. She jerked her gaze to the man before her.
    That rugged, shaven face softened. “Jane.” He leaned in, scattering a dusting of snow that had gathered atop the rim of his hat into the wind. “Do you remember me?” His baritone voice was not only incredibly husky but also incredibly posh.
    How could she ever forget what had once been her dearest and closest friend? The quiet adolescent lord who always carried a book in his hand and never looked anyone in the eye despite his impending future as a duke. So much of him had changed. All except those eyes. Those soulful, beautiful eyes had remained the same. “Martin?” she whispered in disbelief. “Is it really you?”
    Dark eyes, highlighted by the lanterns from the shop window, captured her gaze again and held it. “Yes. It’s me.”
    Her eyes widened as she fought the urge to rake her gaze down the length of his broad, muscled frame. He was lanky no more. A greatcoat had been meticulously pulled over an exquisite grey silk waistcoat, which was paired with well-fitted black trousers and knee-high riding boots for the snow. One thing hadn’t changed. He still had great taste in clothing. “I hardly recognized you. My goodness have you grown! You are twice the size of me now.”
    He inclined his head and smiled. “I was getting rather tired of having to look up.”
    It was so eerie to blink and know that the lanky boy whom she had genuinely loved and adored for his quiet, humble ways was now a well-muscled man. And he didn’t appear shy or quiet anymore. He had clearly outgrown it. “I’m sorry about your father passing. I only learned of it through Mrs. Granger a few days ago. I didn’t know.”
    He shrugged, his smile fading. “It’s been two years now. And as you well know, he and I weren’t particularly close.”
    Sadly, she did remember that. Most of the time his overly staunch father was smacking books out of Martin’s hands and demanding the boy speak up lest he