Free Mad About the Duke by Elizabeth Boyle

“accomplished” meant, she needed to take a lover if only to discover what all the fuss was about. And quickly, before she got married and her new husband found her lacking.
    Just then, the carriage pulled to a stop before the milliner’s shop that Aunt Bedelia swore was the finest in Town.
    Dutifully, Elinor and Minerva went to follow the lady inside, but a bolt of fabric in the window of an adjacent shop caught Elinor’s eye.
    A deep, rich crimson, it was the sort of color she would never consider wearing—puce walls aside—yet something about the passionate hue called to her.
    If you wore that crimson, you wouldn’t be unaccomplished for long.
    And again her thoughts flitted to the dream she’d had. To Mr. St. Maur.
    Most decidedly, he would never leave a lady lacking.
    â€œI shall be along in just a moment,” she said, breaking ranks.
    â€œYou had best,” Minerva warned, wagging a finger. “For if you think to sneak off and leave me alone with her, there shall be dire consequences!”
    Elinor laughed. “I am well aware that if I dared such an affront, she’d hunt me down.”
    â€œNever mind Aunt Bedelia!” Minerva shot back. “I’ll have your head on a pike in front of Almack’s.”
    They both laughed and Minerva continued into the shop while Elinor walked toward the draper’s, the crimson bolt of velvet holding her attention.
    Oh, it shall be too dear, she told herself as she came closer. Such fabrics always were.
    Not that she’d cared for the last few years, living as she had under the Sterling family largesse.
    But that was over. And while it would be nothing to order it up and have the bill sent to the Duke of Hollindrake, as she always had, it wouldn’t do to raise the duke’s (or more to the point, the duchess’s) ire, or she’d find herself living in a hunting box in Scotland. Still, such a fabric might be worth the risk.
    â€œSo you’ve come out of hiding,” a voice from behind her sneered.
    Elinor whirled around and found herself face-to-face with her stepfather.
    Lord Lewis, who had once been considered handsome, stood before her, bleary-eyed and disheveled. His cravat sat limply at his neck, his coat was rumpled. “Can’t keep her from me, you know. Notany longer. You’ll hand her over if you know what’s good for you,” he said, looking around for any sign of Tia.
    â€œShe’s not here,” Elinor told him, “so leave me be.”
    â€œI wouldn’t have anything to do with you, you blowsy strumpet, if you hadn’t meddled in what isn’t your affair.” He leaned forward and an air of stale brandy washed over her. “You stole what is mine.”
    â€œI made sure my sister wasn’t sold off into an unfit marriage as you did to me, sir,” Elinor told him tartly, taking a cue from Lucy Sterling, remembering how her friend had stood up to Lewis and won.
    He’s naught but a coward, she told herself. A coward.
    â€œI can do with the chit as I see fit, and you’d best remember that,” he shot back angrily.
    A fact Elinor well knew and was the exact reason why she didn’t have the coins to outright purchase a good length of the velvet in the window. Nearly every bit of her ready cash had been used up bribing Tia’s school mistress to let Elinor take her younger sister out of school in the middle of the term without informing Lord Lewis as to his ward’s whereabouts.
    Not that the school mistress had kept her word. The devious woman had informed the baron immediately—though Elinor doubted she’d pocketed much from Lord Lewis for the information.
    â€œMy sister is no longer your concern, sir.”
    â€œNo longer my concern, you say?” he mocked. “I beg to differ. I’ll go over to that house of yours and take her right now, if I please.”
    Elinor shook her head. “You do so at your own