The Duke and I (Bridgertons, #1)

by Julia Quinn

The duke, although lean, was powerfully built, with broad shoulders and firmly muscled thighs.

but, really, was it her fault that current fashions dictated such snug breeches?)

She’d tried to be kind and generous toward her erstwhile suitor, but really, enough was enough.

“My dear Miss Bridgerton—” “If you call me that one more time, I swear I shall scream.”

“That would draw a crowd, and if you recall, you don’t want to be seen with me.”

“Forget it. Forget me. Forget this entire evening. I’m leaving.”

the Duke of Hastings was helping her out of a possibly embarrassing scandal.

Of course if anyone found her in this position, she’d find herself in even worse straits.

She hated that men thought that women were fickle, changeable creatures, and she hated even more that she was living up to that image right then.

There are three Featherington misses on the market right now, after all, whereas Lady Bridgerton need only worry about one.

but his bizarre encounter with Daphne Bridgerton was definitely turning out to be the evening’s high point.

he’d been lusting—even briefly—after his best friend’s younger sister.

whether to treat Nigel like a criminal or care for him as she would her dearest friend.

His oh-so-clever plan of slipping into the ballroom, giving his regards to Lady Danbury, and leaving unnoticed had fallen into instant ruin.

two hours later, he’d been introduced to every unmarried lady at the ball,

the sisters—well, the sisters were so forward Simon began to wonder if he’d stumbled into a brothel. Six of them had made extremely suggestive remarks, two had slipped him notes inviting him to their boudoirs, and one had actually run her hand down his thigh.

He’d delivered a solid punch to the man’s jaw

He thought of Daphne, with her simple sage green gown. Daphne, with her direct brown eyes and wide smile . . .

It was bad enough having these women acting as if he were some prize horse to be bred,

listen to this woman tell him what a good father the old duke had been . . .

Two were pleasant-looking, but the third was still cloaked in baby fat and an orangey gown

“Your grace, may I present Prudence, Philipa, and Penelope.”

“I have another daughter at home,” the lady continued. “Felicity. But she’s a mere ten years of age,

Portia Featherington's daughter's names are Prudence, Phillipa, Penelope and Felicity.

My husband passed on three years ago, but he was your papa’s, er, dearest friend.”

Portia Featherington's husband , died three years ago. Simon's father, and Portia's husband were good friends.

“Prudence is quite accomplished on the pianoforte,”

“And my darling Philipa is an expert watercolorist.”

Penelope was not terribly attractive,

and her somewhat pudgy figure

“Penelope is . . . ah . . . well, she’s Penelope!”

Simon decided that if he was forced to dance, he’d ask Penelope.

“Bah. She’s feathers for brains, and so do her girls, except maybe that unattractive young one.”

“Strangest old woman,” Anthony said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s that cursed Whistledown woman.”

“You mean the gossip columnist?”

two other Bridgerton men, both clearly marked by their chestnut hair, tall height, and excellent bone structure. Simon noted that one had green eyes and the other brown like Anthony,

“I’m certain you can understand why my mother is convinced that Colin will be the first of her children to drive her to insanity.”

“Have you met Daphne?”

Simon and Daphne have already met, yet none of her family knows.

Daphne was one of those dreaded unmarried young ladies being paraded about by her mother.

She couldn’t have been more than twenty,

Daphne's age.

her name was still Bridgerton she was clearly a maiden.

“We should save Daphne,” Anthony said. “We really should,” Benedict added. “And Macclesfield,” Anthony said. “Oh, certainly,” Benedict added.

“We should save Daff,” Benedict said. “We really should,” Anthony added. “What my brothers are too lily-livered to tell you,” Colin said derisively, “is that they are terrified of my mother.”

These were the Bridgerton brothers, after all. Tall, handsome, athletic, with every miss in the nation setting her cap after them, and here they were, completely cowed by a mere slip of a woman.

Of course, it was their mother.

“If I save Daff,” Anthony explained, “Mother might get me into her clutches, ...

his mind filled with a vision of Anthony being led around by his mother, mov...

to unmarrie...

“Now you see why I avoid these functions li...

If the debutantes and their mothers don’t find me, my mother makes ...

“Why don’t you save her, ...

Simon saved Daphne, from being introduced to all the eligible gentlemen at the ball.

“You’re a duke.” “So?” “So?” Anthony echoed. “Mother would forgive any impropriety if it meant gaining an audience for Daphne with a duke.”