Description : What the Duke Wants
Charles Evermore, Duke of Clairmont, glared at his solicitor, narrowing his eyes until he could no longer see the small framed man before him. There had to be a mistake. There was no other explanation for the wordsing from the man’s mouth.
“Your grace, if you’ll simply read the documentation for yourself…” Mr. Burrows spoke with practiced patience.
Charles stood and stalked around the desk, ripping the papers from his grasp. Mr. Burrows leaned back, folding his hands and watching Charles with unaffected impassivity. Not for the first time, Charles thought the man looked like a praying mantis, all long and lean with exceedingly large eyes and a patient demeanor that was all too deceptive.
But he was the best solicitor available.
He had better be for what Charles paid for his services.
“If you’ll start on the second page…” Mr. Burrows suggested.
Charles read the endless prattle of legal terms until his eyes focused on the chilling phrase.
Three girls, to be exact. Ranging from ages seven to sixteen.
And, as heaven stood by laughing, he was to be their guardian.
Charles stared at the words, willing them to disappear. He hadn’t the time, the energy, or the inclination to take over the raising of three insufferable...