Like a matron reclining on her chaise longue.” “So while I read, you’re just going to lie there. It was a largish sofa, but he was an even more largish man. “Yes.” He reclined on the sofa, sprawling across the full length of it. As I read, we’ll sort papers into two piles: Significant, to be revisited later, and Insignificant, to be set aside. And if she was being honest, as difficult as the Duke of Rothbury was to live with, she wasn’t terribly eager to be left alone in the place. More work meant more money for her fix-the-castle fund. Going through every bit of this correspondence would likely take weeks, but Izzy wasn’t going to complain. “If I’m going to understand just what’s going on here, I need to start at the beginning.” Do you want to begin with the old or the new?” The older letters are the ones nearest to me, and the newer ones spill toward the far end of the table. “It looks as though they’re somewhat chronological. She surveyed the snowdrifts of letters and packets, debating how best to proceed.

Not with all this correspondence to go through.” “And we don’t have time to be reading stories anyhow. And I’m certainly never going to style myself a Mordrangler.” They require the reader to possess a heart.” They require the reader to possess a certain amount of. “Even if you did read my father’s stories, I doubt you’d enjoy them. In fact, the possibility was so far out of the question, the possibility and the question were on separate continents. She was never going to be meek or docile with him, and she was never going to let him read The Goodnight Tales. If I read these stories of your father’s, does that mean you’ll be meek and docile with me?” He tapped his fingers on the back of a chair. I don’t want to disappoint them, that’s all.” And they expect a certain wide-eyed innocence from Izzy Goodnight.

They have clubs and gatherings and circular letters. His most devoted admirers call themselves Moranglians. My father’s stories took place in a fictional country called Moranglia. Why does she get the compliant Miss Goodnight, and I get the weasel-wielding harridan?”

“There’s no need for you to be concerned about it.” “ ‘Oh, yes, Miss Pelham.’ ‘I’d be so grateful, Miss Pelham.’ ” It was like you became an entirely different person.” He mimicked her girlish lilt. Your behavior, the moment Miss Pelham arrived. “What the devil was that?” the duke asked. While they’re gone, the two of us can get to work.” “There,” Izzy said, clapping her hands once the two had left. Duncan offered to accompany her to the vicarage to help fetch her things. Miss Pelham was overjoyed at the prospect. Within a matter of minutes, it was decided. I believe it was his suggestion.” He couldn’t see it, but just the same-Izzy cast a defiant smile in the direction of his scowl.

Romancing the duke