Eleanor And The Duke (Berkshire Brides Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Beckworth in the conservatory, when she nearly succumbed to his seductions.
    If only desire were enough.
    She rose quickly from her seat when Thornberry came in to announce the baron, intending to go into the drawing room to receive their old family friend. Lady Stillwater had always been more than kind to Eleanor, especially after her mother had died. And of course there were her daughters, especially Lucy and Caroline, who’d been Eleanor’s closest friends and provided the companionship and comfort she’d so desperately needed.
    But then her father had all but closed up Primrose Manor to save funds – for gambling, no doubt – and required that Eleanor live with him in the London townhouse. She’d had no choice but to live with the parent who had become hardly more than a stranger to her.
    “Bring him in, Thornberry,” said Beckworth, stopping Eleanor in her tracks. “Set another place and let him join us here.”
    She sat back down, scowling at Beckworth, looking squarely at him for the first time since he’d entered the breakfast room. She had not trusted herself to do so before.
    And with good reason. He was outfitted as any gentleman might be, in a green waistcoat that perfectly matched his eyes, a black cutaway frock coat, and dun-colored trews. And yet he filled them out as no other gentleman could do. His raw masculinity was beyond tempting, but Eleanor wanted nothing to do with a man who could lie so convincingly to her.
    Her father had made a far too frequent practice of it with her mother. Women, drink, horses, and cards . . . Viscount Derington had done it all and lied to Martine through his teeth about his women and his gaming losses. His loose behavior and the pain it had caused her mother had taught Eleanor well. She had no intention of losing her heart to a scoundrel who was anything like her sire.
    “Good morning, good morning!” said a cheerful Lord Stillwater as he entered the breakfast room, stopping suddenly when he saw the duke.
    “Ah . . . Your Grace, I did not realize you—”
    “Be at ease, Stillwater,” Beckworth said in a welcoming tone as he and Stillwater shook hands.
    The baron was barely as tall as Eleanor, with the ruddiest complexion and brightest smile of anyone she’d ever known. The sight of him there in Primrose Manor brought back memories of earlier days, and Eleanor felt a deep twinge of grief for the loss of her father. She knew it was irrational. Her feelings for her sire had died years ago, yet now she found herself on the verge of tears.
    She took a sip of tea to clear the sudden burning in her throat.
    “Oh dear,” said Lord Stillwater. “I fear we have interrupted your breakfast.”
    “Not at all,” said Beckworth, as though he owned Primrose Manor. “Please join us.”
    “Ah, thank you, but . . . Ah, here she is,” the baron said, turning back to extend his hand toward his daughter, Lucy, who came into the room a moment after him.
    “Lucy!” Eleanor cried, rising once again, this time to embrace her friend. “Oh, how long it has been!”
    Eleanor hugged Lucy close.
    “About a year and three months, I should think,” Lucy said quietly for Eleanor’s ears only.
    True enough. Eleanor and Beckworth had attended a rather eventful country house party a few weeks before the wedding was to have taken place, and she’d seen Lucy then. After the fiasco of her aborted wedding, they’d exchanged letters, but Lucy had always refrained from asking anything about the incident or Eleanor’s reasons for leaving Beckworth.
    Eleanor stepped back and made a stiff introduction of Lucy to the duke, who had stood upon Lucy’s arrival.
    “You will stay awhile?” Eleanor asked her friend.
    “Alas, but no,” Lord Stillwater replied. “We cannot. We had word of your arrival, and Lady Stillwater bade me to ride over first thing . . . well, nearly first thing,” he chuckled in the jovial manner Eleanor recalled so well, “to invite you to picnic with us this