Dukes to the Left of Me, Princes to the Right by Kieran Kramer Read Free Book Online

true love, who happened to be extremely eligible. She’d be a duchess and married to a man so handsome that just looking at him sideways took her breath away. She couldn’t even describe what happened to her when she looked at him head-on, when her eyes locked on to his unfathomable gray ones.
    But she was a Spinster. She would marry only for love.
    She straightened her spine, prepared to say no as graciously as possible—no matter the consequences. Eleanor, Beatrice, and Aunt Charlotte would support her.
    “Yes!” shouted someone from the stairs.
    Poppy looked up.
    It was Prinny—he’d arrived late, and was carrying his usual open bottle of wine. “Is that Drummond on bended knee?” he cried.
    “Yes, Your Highness,” the wily duke called up to him. “I’m proposing to a young lady.”
    Prinny laughed. “She says yes, yes, yes ! She’ll have you, Drummond, and it shall be the wedding of the Season! Shan’t it, everyone?”
    “Yes!” replied the crowd. And broke into wild applause. “Yes, yes!”
    Poppy blinked.
    Drummond stood and tugged her close.
    And then he kissed her. Thoroughly. A possessive, sensual kiss that sent shocking tingles to her toes. She had no time to think when she finally managed to pull her head back. She could only feel. And what she felt was rage.
    Hot, burning rage.
    Her hand itched to slap him. But she couldn’t. She was supposed to be in love with him.
    Damn the man.
    “You never said yes,” he said into her ear. “But don’t get any ideas. I’ll be one step ahead of you.”
    That was exactly the kind of rude statement the wicked, unscrupulous Duke of Drummond would make to an unsuspecting girl.
    And then he had the temerity to raise her fingers to his lips for another kiss. The crowd went wild; everyone, that is, except Sergei, Natasha, and of course, Eleanor, Beatrice, and Aunt Charlotte. She swung around to see them, to gain strength from their indignation.
    Sure enough, her dear friends and aunt stood frozen like statues and staring at her and Drummond together—
    With silly grins on their faces.
    What were they thinking?
    The Spinsters were in crisis. One of them had been entrapped!
    Poppy had never felt so alone in her life. She pretended to smile graciously at the duke. “I don’t know what you’re about,” she murmured for his ears only. “But hell will freeze over before I marry you .”
    “I shall explain the situation further tomorrow”—his voice was unperturbed—“when I arrive at your house for dinner at seven o’clock.”
    “But I’ll be out tomorrow night. I’ve a musicale to attend—”
    “You won’t be attending any musicale,” he said. “You’ll be waiting in your drawing room for me, if you know what’s best for you,” he added silkily, and held her hand up high, to the crowd’s delight.
    She almost gasped. How dare he tell her what to do? And hold her hand aloft as if she were a trophy?
    He left her side to accept congratulations from Prinny and all her former suitors, and she simpered for the company, accepting her own felicitations—but inside, she was livid. Absolutely livid.
    This man was not going to get the best of her.
    She was saving that for Sergei.

CHAPTER 7

    Victory.
    Nicholas tried not to savor it too much, as his prize despised him, but he couldn’t help feeling a little bit triumphant.
    He’d never had his hand wrung so hard—never heard so many men say in awed tones, “You must be something extraordinary,” or “How did you manage it?” or from one fellow, a tear trickling down his cheek and a mumbled, “Take good care of her, will you?”
    He felt as if he’d won Helen of Troy—and perhaps he had.
    He looked over at Lady Poppy and she was glorious in her suppressed fury, so untouchable and fierce that if someone had brought him enough wood to build a gargantuan wooden horse for her at that moment, he might just have done it.
    “Take her home, Drummond,” Lord Derby told him after the hubbub had died