A Duke in Peril by Meara Platt
Lady Florence Swann’s quiet life is upended when she finds a handsome soldier wounded on the side of the road near the country estate where she and her grandfather reside. Captain James Ryder claims to be the Duke of Wellbourne’s emissary and carries a letter concerning a Foreign Office matter. Is he more than he appears, and perhaps the duke himself? Does Florence dare trust her heart to him?
Meet Florence
Lady Florence Swann has lived a quiet and contented life with her grandfather on his estate, until she finds a wounded soldier on the side of the road and knows she must save him. But she hadn’t expected to be so drawn to this handsome man she knows to be harboring secrets. Does she dare trust him with her heart?
Meet James
James Ryder is on a secret mission to draw out a traitor. He also happens to be the Duke of Wellbourne, but he dares not reveal his true identity to Lady Florence Swann, the ministering angel who saved his life when the traitor and his cohorts attempted to stop him. Once his mission is completed, he fully intends to reveal the truth to Florence and ask her to marry him. But first, he must keep her out of danger while he sets about unmasking the traitor.
An Extract from A Duke in Peril
The man’s eyes flickered open to stare at her.
Her breath hitched, for his eyes were extraordinarily beautiful, a magnificent, dark gray. Quite splendid…and dangerous. “You’re awake.”
He drew her even closer, as though to whisper something in her ear.
But instead of talking, he captured her mouth in a scorching kiss that lasted no more than the count of three.
Dear heaven.
It was enough to mark her soul.
He released her with a groan and sank back onto her lap. “Who are you, lass?”
Lass?
She was a lady and almost the age of three and twenty.
“Lady Florence Swann,” she said stiffly. “Something you might have bothered to find out before you kissed me.”
His chuckle was deep and resonant. “Do not berate me, Florence.”
Ugh.
Why was he being so familiar with her?
It was bad enough he’d kissed her, but to now address her as though they had been lifelong friends?
Sighing, she decided not to chastise him since he was not well and the damage had already been done. “Why did you kiss me, sir?”
“It was most improper, I know. But should I not be permitted to kiss my angel?”
She laughed. “Oh, I hardly think I am that.”
“You are an angel, Florence. Mine,” he insisted, taking hold of her hand as it rested on his chest.
Honestly, if he knew her better, he would not be calling her anyone’s angel.
Much less his.
Nor should he be holding onto her hand.
In truth, it felt awfully nice even though his palm was rough and his knuckles were bruised and swollen.
She meant to protest but never got the chance, for the man had gone limp in her arms again.
Her grandfather threw open the carriage door and stared at the big fellow lying motionless in her embrace.
“Hello, Grandfather.”
“Oh, Florence. What mischief have you got into this time?”
