Andromeda is the most frustrating creature Granby has ever encountered. When their insults turn to flirtation and the heated discussions between them lead to passionate kisses, will Andromeda succumb to their mutual attraction? Fans of steamy historical and enemies to lovers romances will devour The Design of Dukes by Kathleen Ayers, the next book in her Beautiful Barringtons Series.
Praise for Kathleen Ayers
“Kathleen Ayers has become a favorite for me. I loved the “Wicked Series” but the “The Theory Of Earls” (don’t you just love this title) is my favorite so far.” – MiaBurke54, Bookbub Reviewer
“I am absolutely enamored with this book! It has a breathtaking romance, characters with sizzling chemistry, and a dialogue that is so clever and witty…” – Catherine, Goodreads Reviewer
Lady Andromeda Barrington is the most unsuitable young lady in London.
At least in the Duke of Granby’s opinion.
Granby doesn’t care for bastard relatives or tainted pedigrees and Andromeda possesses both. Nor does he like opinionated young ladies who enjoy hurling insults in his direction.
Andromeda is, in short, the most annoying creature he’s ever met.
When she arrives, uninvited, to a house party given at his estate, Granby can’t decide whether to kiss Andromeda senseless or send her packing.
Andromeda is the victim of infatuation and bad luck.
The infatuation is that of her sister for the Earl of Blythe, but the misfortune belongs solely to Andromeda after she is forced to attend a house party hosted by the Duke of Granby. She and the duke are previously, unpleasantly, acquainted. The entire party is bound to be awkward, and their mutual dislike difficult to hide. Her only recourse is to avoid the giant block of ice masquerading as a duke. Thankfully, Granby’s estate is enormous.
But instead of mutual hostility upon arriving, Romy is greeted with unexpected attraction. Insults turn into flirtation. Heated discussions become lingering kisses.
Her heart is ruined. Granby may not even have one.
And the duke has already chosen another young lady to be his duchess.
The Design of Dukes is a steamy historical romance with a guaranteed happily ever after and next in the series The Beautiful Barringtons.
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“Were you sketching Granby’s backside?” Blythe laughed out from between his gloved fingers, clearly finding the situation amusing. “I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”
Heat stung her cheeks at Blythe’s scandalous statement. “I was absolutely not, my lord.”
“Could you find nothing else more worthy of your talent?” Blythe’s tone turned flirtatious. “Mine, perhaps?” Blythe turned sideways and wiggled his hips.
Blythe was a shameless rogue. Though Romy had to admit upon inspection, Blythe’s backside, like the rest of him, was rather magnificent.
Granby’s eyes fluttered shut, head shaking as if Blythe continuously tried his limited patience, before once again fixing Romy with a frosty glare.
“I was sketching Miss Cummings’s costume,” Romy waved in the direction of the young lady who was now wandering off, oblivious to the fact her gown had been the cause of Romy’s current situation.
“And eavesdropping.” Granby’s snarl met her ears.
“Who knows what else you were sketching,” Blythe said mischievously. “I’d like to take a look.”
She immediately hid her notebook within the folds of her skirts. “I’m not certain,” Romy snapped back, embarrassed to having been caught looking at Granby and having Blythe take notice, “there was anything of merit for me to overhear. If you must know—”
“Oh, I must.” Granby drawled.
“If you must know,” she imitated in a mockery of Granby, “I was struck dumb at the sight of the duke’s coat.”
“My coat?” The dark eyes narrowed blasting her with dislike.
“Yes, Your Grace.” She nodded as if truly at odds with what she was about to relay to him. “I noticed the length is incorrect. Two inches longer would be much more in line with what is deemed fashionable.”
Granby’s massive shoulders stiffened. One gloved hand tugged at his collar though she hadn’t said a word about his cravat. Yet.
“She may have a point, Gran,” Blythe added helpfully looking between his coat and Granby’s. “I think I mentioned—”
“I do not,” Granby interrupted Blythe, all his attention firmly on Romy, “take fashion advice from a woman who has the poor sense to come to a party dressed as a shrub.”
Romy sucked in her breath. Her costume was lovely. She was a dryad. A tree nymph. It was true that very few saw the vision of her costume today, guessing somewhat correctly she was a tree of some sort but she certainly, emphatically, did not look like a shrub. Granby himself was a mountain masquerading as a duke.
“I am a tree nymph, Your Grace.” Romy stated with determination.
“I beg to differ.” The dark eyes ran down her body. “You look like a shrub. All you need is a bit of red and I’d mistake you for a holly.”
About Kathleen Ayers
Kathleen Ayers has been a hopeful romantic since the tender age of fourteen when she first
purchased a copy of Sweet Savage Love at a garage sale while her mother was looking at
antique animal planters. Since then she’s read hundreds of historical romances and fallen in
love dozens of times. In particular, she adores handsome, slightly damaged men with a wicked
sense of humor. On paper, of course.
Kathleen lives in Houston and is married with one college-aged son and two very spoiled dogs.
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