By Julia Quinn
Simon Basset, the impossible to resist Duke of Hastings, has hatched a plan to maintain himself unfastened from the town′s marriage-minded society moms. He pretends to be engaged to the stunning Daphne Bridgerton. in spite of everything, it isn′t as though the brooding rogue has any actual plans to marry - although there's something concerning the pleasing pass over Bridgerton that units Simon′s center beating a section quicker. And as for Daphne, without doubt the shrewdpermanent debutante will allure a few very helpful suitors now that it sort of feels a duke has declared her fascinating. yet as Daphne waltzes throughout ballroom after ballroom with Simon, she quickly forgets that their courtship is an entire sham. And now she has to do the very unlikely and continue herself from wasting her center and soul thoroughly to the good-looking hell-raiser who has sworn off marriage without end!
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Additional info for The Duke and I (Bridgerton Series, Book 1)
Featherington echoed, her voice a touch shrill. "Penelope is... ah... " Her mouth wobbled into a patently false grin. Penelope looked as if she wanted to dive under a rug. Simon decided that if he was forced to dance, he'd ask Penelope. "Mrs. " Lady Danbury raised a brow as she moved her head slowly toward him. " She turned back to Mrs. Featherington, who had gone quite green. Mrs. Featherington said nothing. Lady Danbury said nothing. Mrs. Featherington finally mumbled something about seeing her cousin, grabbed her three daughters, and scurried off.
The woman had to clear her throat several times before managing to say, "I see. Well. " Simon said nothing, hoping an aloof demeanor would prompt her to take her leave. Damn it, where was Anthony? Simon couldn't possibly bear it. "Your grace! " Simon forced his icy eyes back to the lady in front of him and told himself to be more patient with her. After all, she was probably only complimenting his father because she thought it was what he wanted to hear. " "Yes," Simon murmured, looking for any break in the barricade of ladies through which he might make his escape.
The dark-haired stranger's head snapped around. "Daphne? " She drew back, unnerved by his direct question and the rather intense look in his eyes. " Now she was beginning to wonder if he was an idiot. " He groaned. " Her face slid into a puzzled frown. " Simon staggered back a step. He suddenly felt physically ill, as his brain finally processed the fact that she had thick, chestnut hair. The famous Bridgerton hair. Not to mention the Bridgerton nose, and cheekbones, and—Bugger it all, this was Anthony's sister!