Page 1 of The Duke on Her List
CHAPTER 1
“Have you got the book?” Dorothy Montford asked eagerly, handing her coat to the footman and allowing Agnes Langford to usher her into the house. “I’ve been so looking forward to today, Agnes. If my father knew about this—! We’re going to have to have all our book club meetings at your house for the foreseeable future to make sure that no one finds out we’re reading something so scandalous.”
Agnes sighed. “If only weweregoing to be reading something scandalous.”
“Oh, no.” Dorothy’s face fell. “You weren’t able to get it?”
“Let’s go into the sitting room,” Agnes suggested. “We can speak more about it there. Violet is waiting for us.”
“She already knows you don’t have it?” Dorothy pressed, following Agnes.
“She knows. I don’t even think she’s that disappointed, truth be told.”
“Well, that’s not really such a surprise, is it?” Dorothy asked. “I think we were always going to have a fight on our hands to get Violet Hartwell to take an interest in anything scandalous. I’m surprised she spends any time at all in our company.”
Agnes chuckled. “I think she would have adjusted to the idea once we actually had the book,” she said. “How could anyone fail to take an interest inVenus in the Cloister? It’s such an infamous title.”
They had crossed into the sitting room now, and Violet, who was sitting by the fire with her embroidery in her lap, looked up at them and frowned. “Are you still talking about that filthy book?” she asked. “I think it’s for the best that you don’t have it, Agnes. It’s a sign. Ladies really shouldn’t be reading such vile things.”
“I think that’s your parents talking,” Dorothy teased. “Oh, Violet, you have to admit that you’re at least curious about it. Everyone says it’s the most scandalous piece of literature to be published in years. People are trying to have it swept from London altogether.”
“Which is why I’m so determined to get my hands on a copy,” Agnes put in. “This book is what everyone is talking about, and I want to be a part of the conversation.”
“Well, it’s more than that,” Violet told her. “You’re not just trying to join in people’s talks, Agnes. For you, this is all about that list of yours, we all know that.”
“That list is a magnificent thing,” Dorothy said with a laugh. “And this book is one of the things on it that you might actually be able to accomplish.”
“I’m going to accomplish everything on my list,” Agnes said firmly.
She was aware that her friends struggled to believe her when she said such things. She had written her List of Improper Ideas on a whim one night, after another ball that had left her angry and agitated at the prospect that she would be expected to marry and sign over her life and her happiness to the whims of a husband. The list had begun as a way to express the unfairness of the situation, to shout into the void that if she were allowed her own way and a say in her own life, she would do all these scandalous things that would shock everyone who expected her to behave differently. She had gone to bed angry.
It wasn’t until the next morning that she began to look at the list seriously. All right, she had written it out of anger, but what if it was more than an exercise? What if it were a set of instructions? A way to reclaim the life she had believed was slipping away from her?
Now, at the age of thirty, Agnes was a spinster, and she was happy about it. Her brother, Reeves, the Duke of Greystone,worried about her choice and thought she was making a mistake, but he had never tried to rule over her.
She lived on her own at Sheperfield Estate, a small home just outside of London. She spent her days as she liked, for the most part, and she had stopped thinking that she would one day be forced into a marriage she didn’t want. This life was what she had made it. She was happy here.
And she had held onto her list.
She’d made the decision only a few weeks ago that she might as well try to accomplish the items she had written down. Every time she thought about it, it excited her. Her Improper Ideas would help her create a life of adventure, a life that was truly her own. She would live in a way few ladies ever did.
It would begin with this book.
“We should try to get it somewhere else,” Dorothy suggested. “There has to be another copy in town.”
“It’s been removed from the bookshops,” Agnes said. “You know that. And the only person I know of who has a copy is the Duke of Bellmoor, and that’s only because you say you saw it in his library when you were at Bellmoor last year for his ball.”
“If you’d attended the event, you could have simply taken it off the shelf and read it right there and then,” Dorothy said. “It wasn’t hidden. It was just among the other books.” She giggled.“If I had such a book, I would keep it tucked under my pillow at all times, so no one would ever find out!”
Violet set her embroidery down. “It’s bad enough to contemplate reading this book,” she said. “Even you, Agnes, would not read it in the Duke’s library, where anyone might walk in and catch you at any moment. I can’t even believe you wrote to him and asked to borrow it! What must he think of you?”
“Oh, I don’t care about that,” Agnes said, waving a hand dismissively. “Let him think whatever he likes! It isn’t any of my concern. I just want him to loan me the book.”
“But you don’t think he will?” Dorothy asked.
“I think if he was willing, he probably would have answered my letter,” Agnes sighed. “It was always a long shot. I don’t know him well, after all.”
“Aren’t you concerned now that he’s going to make a show of you?” Violet asked. “With that letter you sent in hand, he could tell all of London that you were setting out to read scandalous literature. He would have all the proof he needed, too. He could tarnish your name.”
