All About the Duke (The Dukes' Club Book 4) Read Online Free
Author: Eva Devon
his likes and dislikes.
Yes. He was a most disagreeable sort and there was nothing pleasant about his imperious person. Nothing. Not even the way his voice rumbled, caressing her skin with its deep, rich waves. Or the way his scent, combining lemon, leather, and sandalwood, had wafted towards her when he’d towered over her.
That was unpleasant, too. The way she’d had to twist her neck to look him in the eye? A gentleman would never have done such a thing. A gentleman would have kept his distance and not noticed his servant except for an occasional, vacant inquiry into said servant’s health.
Allegra stormed up to the servants’ entrance, swung the door open and marched in. She kept to herself, generally speaking, but no one could quite avoid Mrs. Thackery. The cook insisted on knowing everyone, giving them a cup of tea, and seeing how they responded to her special scones and raspberry jam. Any disparagement of the offering and one was banished from the kitchen and all promise of delicious nourishment for the foreseeable future.
However, if one passed muster, one could look forward to a cup of tea and a nice sweet whenever one showed up in the kitchen.
It had been quite the trick, playing the naughty young fellow, sneaking a second scone. But whatever she’d done, Mrs. Thackery had approved. And at this moment, Allegra wanted the only thing that might cure her foul temper: one of Mrs. Thackery’s sweets.
She headed into the kitchen filled with two long tables and several kitchen servants bustling about, preparing both the upstairs and downstairs dinner.
Allegra searched for Mrs. Thackery, but didn’t see her. She stopped one of the scullery maids who was bent over an intimidating pot, scrubbing as if her life depended upon it. “Where is Mrs. Thackery?”
The girl didn’t even look up from her task. “In her office,” she said, her voice echoing off the insides of the large, copper pot.
“Thanks.” Allegra headed for the hallway and the head cook’s domain.
It was a bad habit, the cramming of sweets down her throat when wishing to perform murder. But there it was. Ladies had little access to things which might alleviate the temper. And well, nothing quite did the trick like pastry. Even with her ability to go for a quick ride, she preferred the idea of sugar and butter at present. Unfortunate for her middle, but true. Besides, she had gotten a good deal of fresh air and exercise already. Indulging in a sweet to prevent the murder of a peer of the realm was certainly applaudable.
As she neared the closed walnut door, she heard the sound of hushed voices. One significantly deeper than the other. In fact, that deep voice sent another shiver down her spine.
Him .
Allegra scowled. What power did this man have that he could cause such physical reactions in her being?
It was the duke behind that door with Mrs. Thackery. It had to be because her breath was coming at a suddenly rapid and shallow pace. No one had ever evoked such ridiculous behavior in her. In fact, she’d always been far removed from such earthly things. Escape to the fields on her father’s estate had been her preference, not the presence of the domineering and impossible male sex.
She paused, desperate to ignore the growing knot of tension in the pit of her stomach. It was such a puzzling sensation, pleasurable and yet foreign. She’d felt something similar many years ago when she was fourteen years old and she’d studied the estate’s blacksmith, awed by the power of his arms, and his long, black hair tied back with a simple strap.
Gasping, it occurred to her that the duke had a similar, raw power to his physique. Only far more intense. Those girlish feelings now seemed to be verging on a full inferno. She started to turn. A meeting with the duke was the last thing she desired at this moment. She had yet to cease being irritated by their last encounter and yes, that feeling dancing about her insides was alarming.
The door swung
Yes. He was a most disagreeable sort and there was nothing pleasant about his imperious person. Nothing. Not even the way his voice rumbled, caressing her skin with its deep, rich waves. Or the way his scent, combining lemon, leather, and sandalwood, had wafted towards her when he’d towered over her.
That was unpleasant, too. The way she’d had to twist her neck to look him in the eye? A gentleman would never have done such a thing. A gentleman would have kept his distance and not noticed his servant except for an occasional, vacant inquiry into said servant’s health.
Allegra stormed up to the servants’ entrance, swung the door open and marched in. She kept to herself, generally speaking, but no one could quite avoid Mrs. Thackery. The cook insisted on knowing everyone, giving them a cup of tea, and seeing how they responded to her special scones and raspberry jam. Any disparagement of the offering and one was banished from the kitchen and all promise of delicious nourishment for the foreseeable future.
However, if one passed muster, one could look forward to a cup of tea and a nice sweet whenever one showed up in the kitchen.
It had been quite the trick, playing the naughty young fellow, sneaking a second scone. But whatever she’d done, Mrs. Thackery had approved. And at this moment, Allegra wanted the only thing that might cure her foul temper: one of Mrs. Thackery’s sweets.
She headed into the kitchen filled with two long tables and several kitchen servants bustling about, preparing both the upstairs and downstairs dinner.
Allegra searched for Mrs. Thackery, but didn’t see her. She stopped one of the scullery maids who was bent over an intimidating pot, scrubbing as if her life depended upon it. “Where is Mrs. Thackery?”
The girl didn’t even look up from her task. “In her office,” she said, her voice echoing off the insides of the large, copper pot.
“Thanks.” Allegra headed for the hallway and the head cook’s domain.
It was a bad habit, the cramming of sweets down her throat when wishing to perform murder. But there it was. Ladies had little access to things which might alleviate the temper. And well, nothing quite did the trick like pastry. Even with her ability to go for a quick ride, she preferred the idea of sugar and butter at present. Unfortunate for her middle, but true. Besides, she had gotten a good deal of fresh air and exercise already. Indulging in a sweet to prevent the murder of a peer of the realm was certainly applaudable.
As she neared the closed walnut door, she heard the sound of hushed voices. One significantly deeper than the other. In fact, that deep voice sent another shiver down her spine.
Him .
Allegra scowled. What power did this man have that he could cause such physical reactions in her being?
It was the duke behind that door with Mrs. Thackery. It had to be because her breath was coming at a suddenly rapid and shallow pace. No one had ever evoked such ridiculous behavior in her. In fact, she’d always been far removed from such earthly things. Escape to the fields on her father’s estate had been her preference, not the presence of the domineering and impossible male sex.
She paused, desperate to ignore the growing knot of tension in the pit of her stomach. It was such a puzzling sensation, pleasurable and yet foreign. She’d felt something similar many years ago when she was fourteen years old and she’d studied the estate’s blacksmith, awed by the power of his arms, and his long, black hair tied back with a simple strap.
Gasping, it occurred to her that the duke had a similar, raw power to his physique. Only far more intense. Those girlish feelings now seemed to be verging on a full inferno. She started to turn. A meeting with the duke was the last thing she desired at this moment. She had yet to cease being irritated by their last encounter and yes, that feeling dancing about her insides was alarming.
The door swung
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