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Chapter 1

Hart Mackenzie

It was said that he knew every pleasure a woive it to her Hart wouldn’t ask what the lady wanted, and she ht not even know herself, but she would understand once he’d finished And she’d want it again

He had poealth, skill, and intelligence, and the ability to play upon his fellowhe wanted and believe it to be their own idea

Eleanor Ramsay knew firsthand that all of this was true

She lurked a a flock of journalists in St James’s Street on an unexpectedly reat Hart Mackenzie, Duke of Kilown and old hat, Lady Eleanor Rary for a story as the rest of them But while they craved an exclusive story about the fae his life

The journalists snapped alert when they spied the tall duke on the threshold, his broad shoulders stretching out a black coat, Mackenzie plaid swathing his hips He alore a kilt to remind everyone who set eyes on him that he was, and alould be, Scottish first

“Your Grace!” the journalists shouted “Your Grace!”

The sea ofher out She jostled her way forward, using her folded parasol withoutyour pardon,” she said, when her bustle shoved aside a man who tried to elbow her in the ribs

Hart looked neither left nor right as he pulled on his hat and walked the three steps between the club and the door of his open landau He waswhat he did not wish to

“Your Grace!” Eleanor shouted She cupped her hands around her mouth “Hart!”

Hart stopped, turned His gazeher across the twenty feet of space between them

Eleanor’s knees eak She’d last seen Hart on a train, alo, when he’d followed her into her coift of money from him He’d felt sorry for her, which had rankled He’d also tucked one of his cards into the collar of her bodice She reers and the scrape of the card, with his naainst her skin

Hart said souards aited next to his carriage The ave Hart a nod, then turned and shouldered his way to Eleanor, breaking a path through the frantic journalists