There’s an ideal standard of beauty amongst English nobility, and Miss Margaret Preston doesn’t fit any of it.That’s quite alright–she likes who she is, even if she’s never going to be able to share gowns with her sisters.
Or find a husband of her own. She’s fine with that. Truly.
What she’s not fine with is being mocked. Especially not by a stunning, six foot five Scottish lord whose accent makes her weak in the knees.
But the handsome brute seems determined to chase her across every ballroom in London, unaware or uncaring how miserable his teasing makes her.
The Duke of Ettrick loves Scotland–the misty moors, the craggy rocks, and the green rolling hills. The only thing that might improve it is a bit more sunshine.
If only that sunshine weren’t intent on leading him in a cat-and-mouse game across all the ballrooms of London…
