This story takes place in England, 1760, some years before lady Georgia sadly married Lord Walter Pearson at the young age of sixteen. Four years later, Lord Pearson tragically lost his life in a duel to his former lover's husband. Now, widowed fro...
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Some say His Grace, Francis Audley the Duke of Richmond is a very rich man indeed. In fact, he happens to be the fourth richest man in England at the moment owning five different Estates, three townhomes as well as, fine investments in the granite and ceramic tile industry, but he wasn't acquitted in the manner of needing a wife.
His father, the previous Duke of Richmond taught him at a young age the ducal ways and accustoms, but mostly how to navigate, network, and invest his money making his family entails all the merrier. Like his father, he was a man that preferred the high tide of the London society, forming many aristocratic connections, investment partners, and ultimately people he could call his truest of friends, which were now all currently married off at this time.
His younger brother and sister both had been married off as well and his mother and stepfather grew tired of him taking up in their London residence even though the Duke had multiple homes and residences of his own. He was a grown man. Just nearing his thirtieth year, refusing to marry oddly.
They didn't know what had happened to their beloved son. He showed very little interest in courting women over the past year and more time in his stepfather's study and at meetings nearly all day willingly. Before his parents had known it, they put him on a coach sending him off to his country-seat home in Shrewsbury, the Granville Estate, which he had never even resided in, but had been freshly renovated four years ago for some odd reason like he had planned on returning, but never got around to it.
The Duke of Richmond silently wanted to curse his parents for sending him to what he felt like was countryside non-sense, getting in the way of all the piles and piles of work of managing his lands and smaller investments. That was his cold way of tuning out the feminine world. All his parents wanted was for the Duke to maybe finally relax after years and years of working like a mere peasant. They had thought perhaps the fresh country air and change of scenery might have been just what he needed.
So, when the horses' hooves finally collapsed to the ground one last time and the carriage finally came to a halt after two days of riding and stopping the Duke couldn't help but feel a swarm of relief at finally setting foot on his own land again, hell any land again, even if it was a country property that he had gained from all the tile and granite investments instead of a well-groomed London townhome. The duke was quite a large man and didn't quite acquaint well with the unpleasant uncomfortableness carriage rides had to offer.
He stepped out the carriage rounding his achingly broad shoulders then tilted his neck from side to side. It had to be the hottest day in the summer. The fresh country lawn scent of the air had smelled like any child's childhood dreams. He had instantly felt the heat of the scorching sun sweltering him. And, then he felt the heat of something else on the back of his neck. He instinctively peered all the way to the left.... Nothing. He moved his head slightly backwards at an angle, and then...there she was.
