Wagered to the Duke (BookStrand Publishing Romance) by Karen Lingefelt

candidate to be Duchess of Loring.
    She wasn’t sure that being the niece of the Marquess of Carswell would be sufficient for him, especially since she no longer had a dowry.
    She sighed wistfully. “I’d really prefer a situation in London.”
    “I suppose you’re more likely to find one there than on the Great North Road,” he agreed. “Perhaps my Aunt Verity will know someone who needs a governess.”
    Kate stiffened, fighting the urge to grind her teeth and growl.
    “Or even as a lady’s companion,” he added.
    “Is she in London?”
    “Aye. In fact, you might say she’s the main reason I’m going to London at all. She’s arranging a huge ball to which all the eligible debutantes will be invited, the idea being that I shall choose my duchess from among them.” He glanced away, as if he didn’t want her to see what his reaction was to that. And Kate did wonder.
    “Rather like Cinderella,” she said thoughtfully, sudden envy gnawing at her heart. She’d always liked that fairy tale and imagined what it would be like to receive an invitation to the prince’s ball, only to be chosen by that prince to be his princess.
    Alas, she had no fairy godmother, and in lieu of a stepmother and stepsisters, all she had was a stepfather unwilling to spend any money for her keep, let alone for a gown and glass slippers.
    Besides, she was too old to be a debutante.
    “I suppose it’s a more respectable way to find a bride than what your mother had in mind,” he added, and her heart tripped at the mention of her mother.
    Of course, he’d been referring to Mrs. Hathaway, but Lady Bellingham’s idea for seeing her daughter married wasn’t much of an improvement. Kate’s mother actually believed that eventually Mr. Throckmorton would find it more convenient and beneficial to marry Kate than pay a governess who could provide him with none of the benefits to be had from a wife.
    Kate shivered at the thought of what she’d barely dodged. What else had she dodged when she fled that mysterious barouche yesterday?
    “Could I offer you my coat?” asked Nathan. “’Tis a bit cool out this morning.”
    “No, thank you, I’ll be fine. As long as we keep walking, I should stay warm.”
    He seemed in an affable mood this morning. Perhaps she could tell him the truth. Perhaps he wouldn’t send her back to Bellingham Hall. Perhaps he would still agree to take her to London and his Aunt Verity, only instead of taking a position as someone’s companion or governess, she could simply go straight to her brother’s house in Mayfair. If she and Nathan kept quiet about their little odyssey from Yorkshire, then Anthony, who’d always been a stickler for propriety even after marrying the scandalous Georgiana Hayward, wouldn’t insist the duke do the honorable thing and marry her.
    Yet something somewhere in that plan bothered her.
    By now they’d reached the south end of the village, and they turned to head in the opposite direction, just in time to see a large object fall from an upper story window of the inn.
    “ My portmanteau !” Kate screamed as she lifted her skirts and broke into a run up the street, dodging carts and horses and gawping villagers.
    To her horror, the portmanteau crashed to the ground and flew open, spilling her clothes everywhere. Nathan suddenly flashed by her, his long legs like wings that flew over the muddy ruts of the street as he reached the scene ahead of her, waving away anyone who came scurrying over to see if there was anything worth plundering.
    Fortunately, Kate didn’t think she possessed anything of value. Her clothes were two seasons old, and she didn’t have any jewelry. She had a couple of books by Miss Austen, a stack of sheet music, a doll she’d kept from childhood, and her diary, which would scarcely be of interest to anyone save her mother.
    She caught up to Nathan just in time to see her pelisse, followed by her bonnet, fly out of the window. He deftly caught both as she