Free The Duke Wants Her Curves: Taboo Historical BBW Forbidden Erotic Rubenesque Romance by Kimberley Clarke Page B

sun.
    ‘Well, I mean, she’s pretty and all,’ Robert wrung his cap in his hands as he tried to think of something he could say to get out of this pickle.
    ‘Anyway, never mind. I have quite a bit to be getting on with.’ He yanked the reins of the horse as it turned for him, then lightly smacked its rump with the leather of the riding crop. ‘You’ll be hearing from me soon, Briony.’
    When the man was far enough away, I turned to Robert. My heart was still beating like thunder, and I could feel sweat pooling on my palms.
    ‘Who was that, Rob?’
    ‘You mean you don’t know? That was the Duke of Skipton! He owns the land of your uncle Norman’s farm.’
    The Duke of Skipton. The name was cold and hard, like a knife. ‘So he’s rich is he?’
    ‘One of the richest men in the country. People say that he always gets what he wants.’
    ‘Well, I didn’t like him anyway. What were you going to ask me Robert.’
    He looked at me with a sad smile, then turned to face the setting sun.
    ‘Oh don’t worry Briony. It’ll wait until tomorrow.’ But I was never to find out what it was Robert wanted to ask of me. The very next day, my life changed forever.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER THREE
     
     
    I woke to the sound of my uncle shouting like a madman down in the living room.
    ‘We’re rich! We’re rich! Thank the lord above! Finally, some luck!’ His gruff voice reverberated around the house like gunfire. I roused myself quickly and dragged on a smock before trotting down the stairs as quickly as I could.
    ‘What’s going on, Uncle?’ He turned to face me, and the grin on his face was the widest I’d ever seen.
    ‘Oh you wonderful girl! You darling creature! You’ve made me a very, very happy man.’ This was, without question, the happiest I’d ever seen my uncle. His were positively twinkling, and he was beaming with joy.
    ‘What do you mean? What have I done?’
    ‘Look!’ he said, brandishing a piece of folded paper in front of me. ‘A message, from the Duke of bloody Skipton, delivered to the house this very morning. By a courier, no less. No expense spared, poppet, none whatsoever.’ He’d never called me poppet before, that’s for sure. I took the message and started to read.
     
    Dear Norman,
     
    I had the pleasure, yesterday evening, of meeting your delightfully plump niece for the first time. I must confess that I was quite taken with her. I must have her. I intend to make her my wife, in exchange for a dowry of no less than three thousand pounds. I will send a surgeon who I trust to your house next Tuesday to carry out the necessary medical examination. The money will be paid into an account of your choosing whenever you please.
     
    Please give Briony my most kind, warm greeting.
     
    Yours faithfully,
     
    Duke Marcus of Skipton
     
    As I read the letter, a mixture of utter terror and strange, prickly excitement began to take hold of me. Not only had the Duke noticed me, but he wanted to marry me? What an odd, impulsive man. He’d seemed so cruel to me at the time, and so oddly twisted, but perhaps passion and spontaneity beat within his breast. I thought about his riding crop, about the way he’d used it on that grey horse, about the way he seemed to have total mastery over the beast. He was a real man, an adult. I would have never thought for a second that someone like that would be interested in me.
    ‘Should I say yes?’ I asked.
    ‘What do you mean, Bri?’ said my uncle, looking at my with a sudden intensity.
    ‘I mean, should I marry him? I’d never even considered that a nobleman might want to marry me. I always thought I’d end up with someone like Robert or, I don’t know, a butcher or something…’
    ‘Briony,’ said my uncle, suddenly deadly serious, ‘you’re going to marry the Duke. You don’t have a choice in the matter. He will give you a very good life, a much better life than I could ever dream of giving you. And you’ll be a good wife to him.