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How can she dare to imagine he loves her when all London calls her The Ugly Duchess? Theodora Saxby is the last woman anyone expects the gorgeous. ugly-duchess-the-eloisa-james. 1. The Ugly Duchess Eloisa James; 2. Dedication This book is dedicated to the wonderful poet and storyteller. Get Free Access To | The Ugly Duchess Fairy Tales 4 Eloisa James PDF Now james, you can download them in pdf format from our wildlifeprotection.info file.

The Ugly Duchess Eloisa James Pdf

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Read The Ugly Duchess by Eloisa James for free with a 30 day free trial. James Ryburn, Earl of Islay, and heir to the Duchy of Ashbrook, opened his mouth to. The Duke is Mine by Eloisa James. Miss Minerva Lane is a quiet, bespectacled wallflower, and she wants to keep it that way. After all, the last time she was the. Read The Ugly Duchess read free novels online from your Mobile, Pc. The Ugly Duchess is a Romance novel by Eloisa James.

A terrible, warped silence that … James turned. The House of Lords, I suppose. Her mother was married to your dearest friend. He forced himself to cross the room and sit down. Or so.

I just … I just borrowed from … well, I just borrowed some. The only words going through his head were flatly blasphemous. She had a level head on her shoulders. His mother had died nine years earlier, and under a decade since his father had managed to impoverish an estate stretching from Scotland to Staffordshire to London.

She thinks of me as her brother, as her friend. He was experiencing an overwhelming wave of nausea. What you did. But James knew instantly that his father was right. His father, on the other hand, was cheering up. He had the sort of mind that flitted from one subject to another; his rages were ferocious but short-lived. His father misinterpreted his refusal. James heard him only dimly; he was concentrating on not throwing up as he tried to think through the dilemma before him.

The duke continued, amusing himself by laying out the distinction between mistresses and wives. Not much to think about, is there? But he had lost the battle, and he forced himself to lay out the rules for surrender. As I said, we can admit amongst ourselves that little Theodora is not the beauty of the bunch. I will never again take responsibility for any debts you might incur—nor for any theft. He looks like a lion pretending to be a lion-tamer. Geoffrey threw back his head and laughed, and all the other young men echoed him.

Except James. He scowled, because he never liked it when she was malicious, even when the malice was funny. His eyes were warm and admiring. I have sweet moments! Miss Saxby, that is a remarkable pendant. She had the feeling that he would look for her the next night, and the one afterward. Feeling magnanimous, Theo dropped a curtsy in the general direction of Claribel and the unpleasant Althea, and allowed James to tow her away. James strode through the crowded ballroom like one of those Greek gods in a bad mood.

Theo trotted along beside, feeling too happy to protest. Geoffrey was quite taken with me! I love that word. You could not have been more obvious flirting with Trevelyan.

I meant to be obvious. Not at all. He used to poke at me, just for fun, and if I had paid him any mind, he could have proved a pain in the ass. You would listen to him, and he would cut you to pieces. Very odd. Not for you. I lived with him. Only when he put on skirts—which he did at the slightest pretext—did he stop being so nervy that he bit at someone every five minutes.

But go ahead.

I gather you think you know him best. You may have played at charades when you were at school. Geoffrey has noticed me now, you see. One more encounter will be enough. True love?

You are infatuated with those enormous bubbies that she was displaying to everyone on Oxford Street. She was seventeen, after all. She had to act like a lady. Theo laughed. Even with the dim lantern that lit the carriage he could see the line of her thigh.

Not to mention her bubbies, breasts, whatever. Trevelyan had certainly noticed them. She would not marry Trevelyan. Not under any circumstances. Even—even if he really did have to marry her himself to prevent it. Theo took a closer look. He wore a beautiful indigo coat with dark green velvet lapels, entirely appropriate for a private musicale hosted by the Prince of Wales. But there was something about his face, and his eyes.

Are you about to cast up your accounts, or will you just sway gently all night? You look like a hollyhock that someone forgot to stake. Or that she was as bosky as you are.

Besides, I mentioned it yesterday. Theo looked up at him and felt a wave of affection. We should both keep that in mind. I may have drunk a bit more cognac than was ad. Is my father here? Most of the company was grouped in straight-backed chairs, listening raptly to the command performance of the evening. No one seemed to have noticed the two of them at the other end of the room. He would never willingly sit through an evening of music.

Then she backed against the wall, tugging him over to her. James swayed gently toward her, bracing himself by putting his hands against the wall, one on either side of her, creating a little cave that smelled like the best cognac and the outdoors, with just a note of soap.

You have the most peculiar look on your face. For some reason—could it be that odd encounter they had had in her bedchamber the day before? He was hopelessly beautiful. He had all the elegance of his father, but his jaw was measurably stronger, and his eyes were steady—even though he was tipsy. Just then his face came much closer.

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Instead, he did the one thing that she had never imagined James doing: His lips came even closer, and then they touched hers. His lips were very soft, Theo thought dimly.

It was her first kiss, after all. Yet it was so unlike the kisses she had imagined. She had imagined kisses as a delicate brushing of one pair of lips against another.

But what was happening now was nothing like that. In fact, the whole kiss was like that: A manly James. It was all odd, and yet her knees went weak and she found her arms twining themselves around his neck. James stood back from the wall, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her against his chest.

His voice was unsteady, his breathing harsh. She started to speak, but he bent his head again and silently demanded that she kiss him back. At the same time, she rather desperately wanted to do whatever he asked, so she touched his tongue with her own. She expected it to be revolting, but instead.

Dimly, she knew that she should have laughed, or pushed him away, or called for help. Her mother —not to mention the Prince of Wales himself! She should slap him, really.

Or in private, for that matter. But she wanted more of the taste of James, more of the melting fire that was sweeping her body, more of the irresistible longing that made her move closer and closer to him. Giddy heat seared what little logic Theo had left. She took his face in her hands.

She could kiss It was a matter of possessing him. The way he was possessing her.

The Ugly Duchess

Once she realized that, kissing him was easy. Her tongue tumbled over his, and her fingers clenched his hair, knowing that the same flame that touched her singed him.

James made a kind of inarticulate noise, almost a groan, and pulled her closer. The sound of his growl was so heady that Theo shivered all down her body, a direct response to his tight grip and the sensual touch of his tongue. It was intoxicating. It made her tremble with desire, from an almost savage feeling of wanting more of him. She pressed closer and felt her breasts flatten against his chest; he made that sound deep in his throat again.

And then he bit her lip. She gasped and— Found herself reeling backward, thanks to a hand pulling her free as if she were a dog in a fight.

To her profound dismay, it was her mother. Saxby demanded. Have I taught you nothing? Looks like your girl will be the first of the season to tie the knot.

Theo looked at James and saw confusion in his face at the same moment that she realized that her lips felt puffy and her hair was falling around her shoulders. She must look like one of those ravished maidens in a bad melodrama. But she had to say something. He no longer sounded tipsy. I am going to marry Daisy. James was glaring at her mother, his voice grating a little. And you read to me all that summer in a darkened room because my eyes were weak? But if you are going to marry anyone, Daisy, it will be me.

James turned back to Theo. A flash of uncertainty crossed his eyes. She reached out and took his hand in hers—his familiar, utterly dear hand.

The Ugly Duchess

You are the only one. Her oldest friend, her near-brother—that person was gone. Instead there was a desirable, powerful man looking down at her.

And the look in his eye made her flush straight down to her toes. My son marrying my ward. Keeps it all in the family, so to speak. He had never experienced a kiss like that, never thought to feel such a searing wave of possessive passion in his life. But he had done it only because his bombastic, embezzling father had demanded it. That kiss. He felt like the dirt under his own shoe. And the aching pain in his heart said something even worse: He would give anything to have entered into that kiss with a pure heart and a clean conscience.

Saxby drew Theo away, and his father came up to slap him on the back with a stream of inconsequential, patently false remarks directed at the people gaping at them. He waved his hand with that dilettantish, amused air that Theo appreciated and James loathed. All that ardor and whatnot.

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He turned to look at her, but she was gone. The next few minutes passed like some sort of dizzy nightmare. James found himself bowing to the prince, who was genially cheerful about the whole thing. Fitzherbert, standing to his right.

James flinched, and bowed his way out of the room. I would never have thought of doing it myself. She looked at you as if you were King Arthur and Lancelot rolled into one. It must be a shock. As they rounded the corner of their street, James felt his control snap. Do you understand? But at the same time he knew that for all he blamed his father, it was he who was the real villain.

He had betrayed Daisy. I merely wanted to offer my congratulations. The fact that I expressed a need for help, and you responded within the day, doing precisely what I asked you to.

James waited until his father descended before leaning forward to empty his stomach onto his own shoes, not that there was anything in his stomach but cognac and bitterness. Seven June 14, The wedding of James Ryburn, Earl of Islay, future Duke of Ashbrook, to a little-known heiress, Miss Theodora Saxby, drew the kind of breathless attention usually reserved for royal nuptials. The scandal rags, in particular, had latched onto the story of a true love match. And the wedding itself promised to be as lavish as that of a princess.

Not only had it been orchestrated in a matter of mere months, but no expense had been spared. The Duke of Ashbrook had declared that nothing was too good for the wedding of his ward to his only son and heir.

On the grand day itself, Miss Saxby was delivered to St.

As the carriage approached, they crowded forward, pressing against the barricade erected to keep out hoi polloi. She wore flowers in her hair and held a bouquet in her hands as well. Her features speak to the generations of Englishmen and women who have stood shoulder-toshoulder with our monarchs.

Although he was likely speaking to himself, every reporter in the vicinity heard him and rejoiced. Obviously the Earl of Islay had married for money: And what the press declared to be fact, England believed. She had found herself the recipient of a large emerald and a formal She had found herself the recipient of a large emerald and a formal good-bye a few months earlier.

Rosie was more cynical, and wiser. He loved my apple-dumplings, if you know what I mean. You know Magis down in the box office? The wedding itself was a blur of smiling faces.

With ruffles. Her new father-in-law had vacated the matrimonial chambers, and she had undressed in the bedchamber belonging to the former duchess, a room so large that it could contain her former bedroom three times over.

After that the night had been a blur of nervousness and flashes of desire and just plain awkwardness. When it was over, James had kissed her, very precisely, on her brow.

And that was the first time she realized that if she had felt a little dizzy at various points, her new husband appeared to be remarkably collected. Before she could say a word, he had quietly closed the door between their adjoining rooms. Of course, his departure was to be expected. She knew that no one but the poor actually slept together in the same bed: Perhaps it was all right, then, that James slept in his own room. But did he have to leave so quickly? Still, the tabloids give the marriage six months.

Theo would have given it a lifetime…until she discovers that James desired not her heart, and certainly not her countenance, but her dowry. Society was shocked by their wedding; it's scandalized by their separation. Now James faces the battle of his lifetime, convincing Theo that he loved the duckling who blossomed into the swan. We read the originals as children and learned valuable lessons, and now, as adults, we can read them and learn those lessons again while being entertained and seduced by the magic and power of love.

I cannot even begin to tell you how much I adored James who had loved Theo, his Daisy, since childhood.

Best friends, companions, confidantes… these are the things enduring relationships are built on, and James and Daisy had that, and more, from the start. I will instead send you through a window. And not on the ground floor, either.

Instead, he held out his arm to his wife.Just last week, Mrs. He would give anything to have entered into that kiss with a pure heart and a clean conscience. I have a good idea what happened to the estate; I just wanted to see whether you had the balls to admit it. Minor spoiler: view spoiler [ There's part of the story where James and Daisy have been apart for years, at Daisy's demand. The duke stared back at his only son, his long, aquiline nose quivering with anger.

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