They Mocked Her Brilliant Mind Until a Ruined Duke Chose Her in the Middle of Scandal

Chapter 2

The Duke of Silvermont arrived in London on a gray afternoon that smelled of rain and horse leather, a fortnight early, which his letter had not promised and London had not expected.

Margaret was deep in the freight ledgers of the northern division when her butler cleared his throat in the doorway of the study that had — without anyone’s permission — become her command center. The great oak desk was buried under railway charts, investment reports, and penciled engineering sketches. No embroidery frames. No piano. Nothing that resembled the gentle life a lady was supposed to be arranging for herself.

“Your grace has arrived, Miss Prescott,” the butler said.

“Already?”