To Redeem a Duke: Regency Romance (Rogues and Laces) Read online

  Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  EPILOGUE

  BONUS CHAPTER 1:THE CAPTAIN & THE STOAWAY

  PROLOGUE

  BONUS CHAPTER 2:THE DUKE’S SECRET DESIRE (ALSO PART OF A COLLECTION)

  KEEP IN TOUCH!

  Copyright © Regina Darcy 2018

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher and writer except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a contemporary work of fiction. All characters, names, places and events are the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  For queries, comments or feedback please use the following contact details:

  reginadarcy.cleanandwholesomeromance.com

  [email protected]

  SIGN UP TO THE MAILING LIST!

  ONE

  “I am quite sure she will make you a wonderful wife!” the Marquess of Winchester exclaimed, looking decidedly satisfied at his future son-in-law. James Smith, the Duke of Essington, sniffed once but said nothing. He did not particularly care for the Marquess, but given that the arrangement the man was speaking about had been of long standing, he had to, at the very least, engage him in conversation.

  “You have seen her, have you not?” the Marquess continued, his light blue eyes practically gleaming as he rubbed his gnarled hands together. “Quite the diamond of the first water, I can assure you, Your Grace!”

  James wanted to tell the Marquess that he did not care what Lady Christiana looked like, given that their betrothal had been in place since the day she had been born, but settled for a small shrug. The only thing that mattered to him when it came to his bride-to-be was that she came from a good family line and had enough beauty to entice him into bed. The last thing he wanted was an ugly bride, for then how was he meant to produce his heir? That, he supposed, did not need to be a concern of his, since Lady Christiana was hailed as a stunning beauty.

  “And she is more than happy with the wedding date,” the Marquess finished, clearly ignoring the fact that the Duke had not, as yet, said a single word. “We might call the banns very soon, Your Grace.”

  James nodded sharply. “Of course.”

  He did not particularly want to marry but knew full well that it was required of him. Besides which, he had very little intention of allowing the marriage to change his life in any way. There would be the fuss of the wedding day itself, of course, but thereafter, he intended to return to his country estate with his new wife and continue on with his life just as it was.

  His wife would have her own quarters, and he would not need to dine with her if he did not wish it. The children that would come from the marriage would be sent to boarding school just as soon as possible, which meant that he would be free to continue to live as he pleased. Of course, his heir would have to be properly trained, but he could, he supposed, deal with such matters easily enough when the time came. It was not as though his own father, God rest his soul, had had any opportunity to raise James. Despite this, he had managed to take on the responsibilities expected of him without any particular difficulty.

  “I shall go in search of her, then,” he heard the Marquess say. Only then did he realise that his thoughts had been very far away for some time. The Marquess bowed and took his leave. “Do excuse me, Your Grace.”

  James managed a stiff nod and retreated back into the shadows of the ballroom as he watched the Marquess walk away. The man was short and rather rotund. His head was covered with a shock of grey hair that seemed unable to be tamed in any way as he waddled quickly across the room. Grimacing, James leaned back against the wall, not enjoying a single moment of the ball.

  How he hated coming to London! He had only done so in order to meet and secure his betrothal, but even that had taxed him greatly. To be a duke meant that the eyes of the ton were on him from the moment he entered the room until the moment he left. It did not help that rumours and whispers about his parents' tragic death – albeit over five and twenty years ago now – were still running wild throughout the beau monde. None ever spoke to him of it, which was wise of them, for he knew full well the sharp retort that would spring to his lips should they try to do so.

  His parents had been foolish, and he had learned from their poor example. Love meant foolishness, and that was all there was to it. To be in love meant to be unable to make clear, well thought out decisions. It meant abandoning one’s careful thoughts and throwing them asunder, caught up in a whirlwind of emotion. It was certainly not what James intended to allow to occur with him. And yet, the ton persisted in their dreamy whispers about just how much the late duke and his wife must have loved one another.

  He despised every word of it

  Grimacing, his eyes flickered towards the rest of the guests, who were either conversing or dancing, a smile plastered on each face. The gentlemen appeared to be having a wonderful time dancing with whichever eligible young lady was in their arms, and he could tell from the look on some of their faces that they had more than just dancing in mind. Some of them – the fools – were clearly besotted with the creature they were dancing with and, most likely, would either be courting or betrothed to them very soon.

  Snorting in derision, he let his gaze drop elsewhere. Love was ridiculous nonsense that had brought death to both his parents when he had been but five years of age. They had both been aboard a ship to take them to his father’s holdings across the sea but had hit a terrible storm. The story told to him from the surviving crewmembers had been that his mother had fallen from the deck into the raging seas, and his father, unable to simply leave her to her watery fate, had attempted to save her. The sea had claimed both their lives.

  Even now, anger burst through him like a fire. It had been selfish of his father to do such a thing, to go after his wife and forget all about his son. The son who had been thrust into the role of duke at such a young age, the son who had been left without a father or mother to protect him. He hadn’t understood at the time, but the loneliness that had seeped into his soul from that day onwards had taken a firm hold of his heart. He had grown hard – deliberately so – for he did not want to ever have someone mean so very much to him that he would take leave of his senses. He had learned how to exist entirely alone and fully intended to continue in such a way regardless of whether or not he was wed. No one would ever lay claim to his heart.

  “Here she is, Your Grace!”

  James started, not realising that the Marquess had returned. Taking a deep breath he turned around and bowed as the lady in front of him dropped into a perfect curtsy before looking back at him with the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen. She had perfect blonde curls that were piled up on top of her head, with a few dancing around her temples. Ivory skin and dusky pink cheeks added to her beauty, her oval face and slim figure perfect in every way.

  He felt nothing.

  “It is very good to meet you, Your Grace,” she said, her eyes flickering to his eyes for just a moment before returning to a little way over his left shoulder. “I hear the banns are to be called very soon.”

  He nodded. “They are.”

  She did not look happy with this news, but neither did she look particularly upset either. It was as if she did not care, and for whatever reason, James found that this irritated him somewhat.


  “May I also present my elder daughter, Lady Prudence,” the Marquess said, as another young lady stepped forward. “Do forgive me, Your Grace, for not introducing her at the same time as Lady Christiana, I was quite caught up with excitement!”

  James bit back the harsh retort that stated he did not particularly care which daughters he was introduced to, given that he was only to wed one of them, but forced himself to bow regardless.

  His eyes alighted on the girl as she rose from her curtsy, a little surprised to see light green eyes assessing him sharply. She was nowhere near the beauty that her sister was, yet there was something about her that gave him pause. Whether it was the way that she looked at him, so unguarded, or whether it was that she made her disdain clear by the slight curve of her lips, he could not say. Annoyance tugged at him. Why should she look at him in such a way? Why was there such evident dislike on her face? It was not as though he knew her from Adam, which meant that she could not know him particularly well either.

  “Ah, a waltz!” the Marquess exclaimed, as the music began to play. “I am sure my daughter would be glad for the opportunity to dance with her betrothed, Your Grace, and it would, of course, allow the beau monde the opportunity to see you both together.”

  “Papa,” Lady Prudence murmured, before the Duke could speak. “You are much too forward. I am quite sure that the Duke can decide what it is he wishes to do for himself.”

  A small feeling of satisfaction settled over him as he saw the Marquess’ chagrin.

  “I would be glad to dance with you, Your Grace,” said a small voice, and as he turned, he saw Lady Christiana incline her head again before offering him her hand. “Shall we?”

  This was not what he had expected nor what he had intended. He had no desire to dance with the lady and yet found himself now strong-armed into it! This was not what he wanted from a wife, and the sooner the young lady knew as much, the better.

  “Of course,” he said, rather icily. “Come, Lady Christiana.” As he led her onto the dance floor, James felt his skin crawl with the awareness that every single eye was on him. He hated the ton’s scrutiny, hated how they watched him with sharp, unrelenting gazes. Holding Lady Christiana carefully, he began to swing her around the floor, feeling the tightness growing in his chest.

  “I do hope you enjoy dancing,” Lady Christiana said, with a small smile in his direction, which did not stir his blood in the least. “I have a great fondness for it.”

  He snorted. “Lady Christiana, let me absolve you of any illusions you might have as to what our marriage will be like.”

  Her eyes caught his, the smile fading from her face.

  Clearing his throat, James felt his satisfaction begin to rise as he prepared to lay out to Lady Christiana exactly what he expected.

  By the time this waltz was over, Lady Christiana would be in no doubt what her future held, and James would not tolerate any whining or pleading for things to change. His life was planned, his expectations firm. What Lady Christiana wanted was of no concern to him.

  TWO

  Prudence watched as Christiana paced up and down the drawing room, clearly in torment over something. Her heart broke for her as the expression on her face grew pained, her eyes darting here and there all across the room.

  “Sit down, Christiana,” she said encouragingly. “You are going to make yourself utterly weary with all of this pacing.”

  Christiana shook her head. “No, Prudence, I cannot.”

  “You must.”

  For a moment, she thought that Christiana would do as she had asked, but her sister hesitated for only a moment before continuing to walk up and down the room again. This was now the third night she had done so, the third night where she had cried over her future with the Duke but, to Prudence’s relief, there were no tears this time.

  She did not know what to say in order to soothe her sister’s fractious heart and mind. It was clear from the moment that they had been introduced to the Duke that he was not a particularly kind or amiable man. But what could be done when the betrothal was already in place? It was not as though Christiana had any choice in the matter, which meant that the only thing she could do was accept that this was to be her lot in life. Prudence had, on their first night together since that meeting, tried to find as many good things as she could about the Duke, and her sister’s marriage to the man, but had struggled to make any progress into her sister’s upset. Now that they were on their third night together discussing the matter, Prudence felt herself growing a little gloomy.

  “I cannot believe he expects me to simply fade into the background once we are wed,” she heard Christiana mutter, shaking her head to herself as she walked. “What sort of gentleman states that kind of thing on the very first introduction to his betrothed?”

  “The sort of gentleman that is used to getting precisely what he wants,” Prudence replied, a little sadly. “I am sorry, Christiana, but I do not think that he will change, no matter how much you protest. He has every intention of carrying on with his life just as he pleases once you are wed, and given that he will be your husband, then he will have control over what you do also.” A small smile quirked her lips. “Although I will say that the thought of having such a marriage – one where I could remain in the library or outdoors as much as I liked without having to be beholden to his company – seems rather pleasant to me, although I know it does not please you.”

  That was the difference between herself and her younger sister. Prudence had always been terribly boring according to their father, being entirely caught up with nothing but her desire to learn as much as she could about the outside world. Her pin money was not spent on dresses or ribbons but on books, and she had read every single book in her father’s library. He had despaired, particularly when she showed no interest in finding herself a suitable husband, but she had not cared. Why should she flaunt herself in front of a gentleman whilst pretending to be a person she was not? She knew full well that the gentlemen of the ton did not want a bluestocking for a wife, but this is what she was! Knowledge brought her so much happiness, that marriage, she was sure, simply could not compare.

  Christiana, however, was the beauty of the family, and she was the one betrothed to the Duke, practically from the moment she had been born. Why her father had decided on Christiana instead of Prudence, she had never been sure, but mayhap her father had seen in her, at the age of five years old, a bookishness that displeased him. Regardless, Christiana had become betrothed to the Duke and was now at the age to wed him, even though he was over ten years her senior. All seemed to be in hand, except for the fact that Christiana herself was deeply upset at the thought of marrying such a man.

  “But that is it!” she heard Christiana exclaim.

  Startled, Prudence lifted her eyes from the book she held in her lap to look back at her younger sister in surprise.

  “That is the perfect solution, Prudence!”

  “What is?” she asked, her eyes urging her to drop them back to the book so she might continue reading. “Whatever are you talking about, Christiana?”

  Christiana hurried over towards her and sat down by her side in a flurry of skirts. Seeing that this would require all of her attention, Prudence set her book down carefully and turned towards her sister.

  “There is something I have not told you,” Christiana began, looking a little guilty. “Something that I should have mentioned some time ago, but I have always been quite sure that it would come to nothing, but now…” She trailed off, her gaze drifting away as an expression of frustration crossed her features.

  “Now?” Prudence pressed gently.

  Christiana’s gaze shot back to hers. She bit her lip, her cheeks growing red as she tried to explain. “I have met another gentleman, you see,” she stammered, no longer looking directly at Prudence. “Lord Timothy Archibald. A viscount.”

  Prudence stared at her sister for a moment, her stomach beginning to churn uncomfortably.

  “I know a viscount is not t
he kind of gentleman Father intends for us to marry,” Christiana continued, sounding desperate, “but I have been unable to stay away from him, Prudence. I have known him but the three weeks we have been in town and find that he occupies my thoughts, occupies my time, and leaves me almost desperate with the desire to be in his company once more. Oh, Prudence, I really do think I love him.”

  The book now entirely forgotten, Prudence stared back at her sister and saw that her beautiful face was ravaged with a deep, agonising pain. She had known that her sister had many attentive gentlemen all looking to further their acquaintance with her but had never suspected that there had been anyone in particular.

  “Why did you not tell me before?” she asked hoarsely, suddenly caught up with emotion. “I thought we shared everything.”

  Christiana looked away, guilt in her expression. “I thought you would think badly of me,” she said slowly. “To know that I am engaged to another and yet to be spending my time with Viscount Archibald – it is not the behaviour expected of a Marquess’s daughter, is it?”

  “But I would not have criticised you,” Prudence replied earnestly. “Truly, I do not think badly of you in any way, my dear sister. I am only sorry that you are to marry the Duke when you care for another.”

  “But that is precisely why I am telling you such a thing now!” Christiana exclaimed, her eyes suddenly bright. “You see, the Viscount has offered to marry me, and I have not been able to accept him, even though I wish to do so with every part of my being! After what the Duke said to me, I cannot abide the thought of marrying such an odious gentleman when I can marry a man who will love and cherish me in the way that I have always dreamed of.” She smiled gently at Prudence. “And now, I think that I can do so.”

  Prudence frowned, not understanding in the slightest. “What are you talking of, Christiana?”

  “You can marry the Duke!” her sister exclaimed excitedly.