When You Wish Upon a Duke by Charis Michaels

Dearest Georgiana,

I’m home, Mama. I am home. I’m sending this letter by private messenger from London so you will know straightaway.

The mission was a success; you’ll not believe all we managed. I’ll share every detail when I see you. Unfortunately, the return sailing was dreadful. Autumn weather caught up with us and storms from the north made for relentless rocking and plunging, dipping and bobbing. I was sick for ten days, unrelenting. When finally we reached London, I staggered off the brigantine in search of fresh bread and ginger tea and chocolate.

But this is not what you really want to know, is it?

Before you expire from curiosity, I’ll tell you that the duke and I did . . . grow close on the voyage, but our farewell was largely without ceremony. The duke’s family was at the dock to greet him when we reached London. An important component of the mission had been to recover an abducted cousin, and Northumberland sent word to this man’s parents when our ship entered the Thames at Margate. The note was meant to put an anxious aunt and uncle at ease, but the result was a family reunion at the East India Company docks.

His desperate mother and sisters, aunts, uncles, and cousins created quite a raucous welcoming party, but they served as a useful distraction to my green-gilled quest for solid ground.

So there you go.

I have other news.

Your Norse crystals are in my possession.

I am so anxious to see you.

To that end, please begin to think about what you will pack for a visit. When I come for you, I’ll have no time to indulge this process. We will leave the same day I arrive, please be aware.

I should be relocated to Hammersmith by the time this reaches you. My work in the new shop will be exhausting and very pressing because we’re endeavoring to outplace any retribution from Drummond Hooke. That said, the joy of my own agency will not be as sweet without you there to share it.

All my love,

Bell