Kieran Kramer - Dukes to the Left of Me, Princes to the Right (Impossible Bachelors)

To Mom and Dad

And to Jeannie

Thanks for all the love.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Once again, I have to thank Jen and Jenny for seeing me throughI couldnt have done it without either one of you!

And a big thanks to my sister Devon, whos always there to encourage me and make me laugh.

Id also like to thank Herbert Ames. Hes a NASCAR man (and secret angel) who was wearing a white suit and a huge grin the day I met him on a plane. I was flying with Devon, and we couldnt get seats together, which was a bad thing as my sister doesnt like to fly. Herbert, whos never met a stranger, said he couldnt move as he was squashed in, but he promised to take very good care of Devon for me.

A minute later, he called up the aisle in a big, booming Southern drawl, Kieran Kramer, are you a book writer?

I was in a middle seat six rows ahead, so I had to stand up, turn around, and answer Herbert in front of a bunch of bored-looking people waiting for the plane to take off.

I dared myself to say, Yes, Herbert, I am, even though I hadnt found a publisher yet.

And I was a book writer! I had the thousands of pages to show for it.

Well, Herbert whipped out his cell phone and called his good friend Janet, who was a writer, too, and urged her to read my book.

Kieran Kramers gonna make it, I just know it! he shouted into the phone. And then he passed it six rows up to me (everyone on the plane looked a lot less bored by this point), and I had a few words with his friend.

Janet was kind enough to read the first chapter of one of my manuscripts. She wrote me a note about itsaid it had some good things and also some things that needed work but that, overall, she thought I had a wonderful voice and to hang in there.

Well, I read those encouraging words from Janet Evanovich over and over again as I wrote another story that sold months later, my first book, When Harry Met Molly . So thanks very much to you, too, Janet. You and Herbert both helped out a strangerlucky me!and for that I will be eternally grateful.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER 1

In a proper English drawing room on Clifford Street in Londons Mayfair district, Lady Poppy Smith-Barnes, daughter of the widowed Earl of Derby, threw down the newspaper and stood up on shaky legs. Finally, the secret passion shed been carrying around with her for almost six years would have its day in the sun.

Hes here, she announced to Aunt Charlotte. Sergeis in England.

She could hardly believe it. Shed resigned herself to being a Spinstershe was in good company, after all. But now in a matter of a moment, everything had changed.

Her prince had arrived.

Aunt Charlotte, tiny in her voluminous, outmoded gown, stopped her knitting. Are you sure?

Poppy found the paper again and put it under her aunts nose. He and his sister are touring with their uncles last portrait and unveiling it for the very first time here in London.

Oh, Poppy! Aunt Charlottes eyes were a bright, mischievous blue above her spectacles, and her powdered white wig sat slightly askew on her head. Hes the only man on earth who could coax you out of the Spinsters Club.

Indeed, he is. She hurried to the front window and looked out, expecting something to be different. But the day appeared like any other day. She knew, however, that it wasnt. It was special.

Sergeithe perfect boy, and now the perfect manwas in Town .

She spun around to her aunt. Do you think hell remember me? Its been six long years. I was fifteen. We had only a week. It seems a lifetime ago.

How could he forget you?

She shrugged. So much has happened to him. Hes been traveling, he was in the militaryI kept up with him as best I could through the papers. Im afraid hell see me at a ball and walk right by me.

Aunt Charlotte laughed. No one walks right by you, dear. Not with that fiery hair and impudent air.

Aunt . Poppys cheeks colored. This is a fine time to remind me Im not the malleable sort.

Aunt Charlotte calmly resumed her knitting. Eversly will survive the turndown, and so will you. Its not as if you havent had a great deal of practice.

Eversly was due to arrive within the hour, and his would be the twelfth marriage proposal Poppy had rejected in the three years shed been out. Two of those offers had rather predictably taken place during the fireworks at Vauxhall. Another two had transpired at Rotten Row in Hyde Park at the fashionable hour, both times while shed sat astride docile mares (Papa wouldnt let her take out the prime-goers). One proposal had taken place in front of a portrait of a spouting whale at the British Museum at eleven in the morning and two more at the conclusion of routs that had dragged on until dawn. One had transpired in the buffet line at a Venetian breakfast after shed overfilled her plate with wedges of lemon tart to make up for the dull company, two had occurred in her drawing room over cold cups of teatepid because her suitors had prosed on so long about themselvesand one had taken place, inexplicably, at a haberdashery, where shed gone to buy buttons for Papas favorite hunting coat.

Two barons, a baronet, three viscounts, four earls (one of them only nine years old at the time), and one marquess had proposed to her. Two had had large ears. Four had had small eyes. Three had smelled of brandy, and one had lost his breeches in a fountain. One had been missing his front teeth (and it hadnt been the boy).

Stay calm, she told herself. More than ever, you have a reason to say no to Eversly.

As the clock ticked closer toward the earls arrival, Aunt Charlotte kissed her on the cheek and left the room. Poppy waited another agonizing twenty minutes. Finally, there was a knock at the front door, and she put her newspaper under a pillow. Kettle, Lord Derbys elderly butler, greeted the visitor in his usual sober way.

Poppy stood.

Then she sat.

And then she stood.

Finally, the earl, a veritable Adonis, entered the room. He had gleaming blue eyes, a golden curl on his forehead, and shoulders so broad she should feel weak in the knees.

But her knees stayed firm.

Youre alone. Everslys eyes were warm. She could tell he had genuine affection for her, and she did for him, actually. He was sporting, congenial company, but she couldnt help thinking of him only as a friend. It was always that way with her suitors, as if there were a big NO stamped on all their foreheads.

Thanks to Sergei.

Yes, she told Eversly, swallowing hard. I am alone.

They both knew what that meant. Without her father or Aunt Charlotte by her side, she was unchaperoned. Only an engaged or married woman could meet a man alone in a room.

But she wasnt quite alone, was she? There was her mothersedate, maturesmiling down at her from her portrait, her wedding rings sparkling on her pale, slender hand. Her hair was the same shining copper color as Poppys own wavy locks; her eyes, the identical emerald green.

The earl moved toward Poppy, skirting a small table and rounding a chair. He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed a soft kiss against her knuckles. We shall do well together, he said, in a low-timbred voice that should have sent shivers up Poppys spine.

But it didnt.

She stole a glance at his perfect lips. Shed heard from her aunts maid, whod heard from the maid of a widow whod had an affair with him, that he was a splendid kisser.

We should, she said with a little intake of breath, were we to marry.

Lord Eversly arched an eyebrow. Arent we?

No, we arent, she said in a small voice.

What? The earls voice became a mere squeak.

Poppy bit her lip. It was always at this point she reminded herself of the Spinsters Club and the vow shed made with her two very best friends, Lady Eleanor Gibbs and Lady Beatrice Bentley. None of them would marry except for love.