Duke of Renown
Page 1
Duke of Renown
Dukes of Distinction
Book 1
Alexa Aston
© Copyright 2021 by Alexa Aston
Text by Alexa Aston
Cover by Wicked Smart Designs
Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.
P.O. Box 7968
La Verne CA 91750
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Produced in the United States of America
First Edition January 2021
Kindle Edition
Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.
All Rights Reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Additional Dragonblade books by Author Alexa Aston
Dukes of Distinction Series
Duke of Renown
Medieval Runaway Wives
Song of the Heart
A Promise of Tomorrow
Destined for Love
King’s Cousins Series
The Pawn
The Heir
The Bastard
Knights of Honor Series
Word of Honor
Marked by Honor
Code of Honor
Journey to Honor
Heart of Honor
Bold in Honor
Love and Honor
Gift of Honor
Path to Honor
Return to Honor
The St. Clairs Series
Devoted to the Duke
Midnight with the Marquess
Embracing the Earl
Defending the Duke
Suddenly a St. Clair
Starlight Night
Soldiers & Soulmates Series
To Heal an Earl
To Tame a Rogue
To Trust a Duke
To Save a Love
To Win a Widow
The Lyon’s Den Connected World
The Lyon’s Lady Love
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Publisher’s Note
Additional Dragonblade books by Author Alexa Aston
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Epilogue
About the Author
Chapter One
London—March 1812
Phoebe’s eyes flew open as she was jolted out of sleep. Nausea caused her stomach to roil. She tossed the bedclothes away and raced to the chamber pot, barely reaching it in time as she dropped to her knees before it. She rose unsteadily and went to the basin, where she rinsed the sour taste from her mouth and then washed her face for good measure. Padding back to her bed, she climbed into it, sinking into the pillows.
She was with child again.
Joy filled her as she finally admitted to herself the obvious. It had been over three months since her courses had come. She had waited years for this to happen.
She had conceived Nathan on her wedding night. Nine months to the day of her marriage to Edmund Smythe, Earl of Borwick, she had given birth to a healthy boy. Nathan had become the light of her life and made these past five years the happiest she’d ever known.
She had thought more children would quickly follow since she was obviously fertile but none made an appearance. After she birthed their son, Borwick rarely came to her bed. He was two decades older than Phoebe and she’d heard women talk of how men aged and had trouble performing the marital act. His infrequent visits to her bed troubled her but she had no say in the matter.
Until last Christmas.
Borwick had indulged in more wassail than he should have—and Phoebe used that to her advantage. She crept into his bed that night, sliding under the bedclothes, something she’d never done and would probably never have the courage to do again. Her husband had always come to her bedchamber. Their couplings were short and took place in the dark. She did what she could to tease his cock to life as he drunkenly slurred a series of words together that made no sense to her.
Her efforts were now rewarded. She couldn’t wait to tell her husband the news. He would probably want another boy but she would like a girl this time. One to dress in pretty clothes. She’d put ribbons in her daughter’s hair and buy her dolls. They would be as close as sisters and Phoebe would take care in helping the girl choose her wardrobe when her Season arrived.
And she would never, ever make her wed a man if she didn’t love him.
Her own father had done that to Phoebe. He scoffed at the notion of love, taking matters into his own hands and arranging her marriage to Borwick. The earl was a widower almost twenty years her senior, childless, and as practical a man as Phoebe had ever met. Love hadn’t come but at least they got on well enough, though she preferred their country estate in Devon, while he enjoyed the social aspects of London.
They’d arrived in the great city last night. Borwick was happy to be back at their townhouse so he could meet up with his friends in the House of Lords and at his various social clubs. Though shy, Phoebe would have been happy to attend a few events of the Season with her husband. Now, though, her gowns would grow too small for her. Relief filled her, her increasing being an excuse to forego all the social events.
Of course, she would have to attend the ball at the end of the first week of the Season since it was being given by her sister, the new Vis
countess Burton. Letty had wed at Season’s end last year, her first, and was eager to host her first large social gathering. That would be held three weeks from now. Phoebe would work with her modiste on designing a gown that would hide her condition and still be fashionable. After that, it would give her more time to spend with Nathan.
She closed her eyes, feeling tired, knowing her maid would appear soon with her morning breakfast tray. Moments later, a knock at the door sounded. Not only did her meal arrive, but Nathan came with it, barreling in gleefully and jumping into bed with her, snuggling close. These were the times that meant the world to Phoebe. While her husband remained distant, her son was always happy to give her a hug and a kiss.
“Good morning, Mama.”
“Hello, my beautiful boy.” She kissed his brow.
Frowning, he said, “Girls are beautiful, Mama. I’m a boy.”
“Well, then. Good morning to my handsome boy,” she declared. “Is that better?” she asked, tousling his hair.
“Papa says we’re going to see the dinosaurs today,” he said excitedly.
“At the British Museum?”
Nathan shrugged, obviously not knowing the location of these dinosaurs.
“You’ll need to be on your very best behavior, Nathan. You may see one of Papa’s friends while you are out. Remember your manners.”
“I will,” he promised and kissed her. “I need to eat breakfast with Nanny.”
He clambered from the bed as his nursery governess appeared at the door.
“There you are, Viscount. You’ve got a nice porridge waiting for you in the schoolroom.”
Nathan ran across the room and took the servant’s hand. Looking over his shoulder, he called, “Goodbye, Mama.”
“He’s a whirlwind,” her maid declared.
Phoebe smiled. “I wouldn’t have him any other way.”
She ate her toast and drank her hot chocolate, happy not only about the new baby but also glad that Borwick was taking Nathan on an outing. He’d told her he knew nothing about babies when Nathan was born and had never once held his son. Her husband had kept his distance while Nathan learned to crawl and then walk and talk. It was only within the last six months that Borwick had anything at all to do with the boy. Phoebe hoped today’s trip to the British Museum would be the start of a new relationship between father and son.
Setting the tray aside, she dressed for the day with the servant’s help. She wanted to speak to Borwick before he and Nathan left the house.
Going downstairs, she spied their butler. “Do you know where Lord Borwick is?”
“Still in the breakfast room, my lady.”
“Thank you.”
Phoebe headed there and stopped just outside the door. It wouldn’t do to share her good news in front of the footmen stationed about the room. She entered and went to her husband, who pored over the morning newspapers as he sipped his tea.
Kissing the top of his head, she said, “I hear you are taking our son to see dinosaurs today, my lord.”
He looked up in surprise since they were never demonstrative toward one another.
“Why, yes. There is a new exhibit of bones that have been reconstructed. It’s a something Rex and is supposed to stand thirteen meters high. The bones, that is. I gather they’ve tried to restore what they’ve found on some archaeological dig.”
“Nathan is terribly excited. As much to see these dinosaur bones as to spend time with his father.” She paused. “Would you come see me in my salon before you leave the house, my lord?”
He frowned. “I’ll be another half-hour or so.”
“Very well. I will see you then.”
Phoebe left and went to her salon. She dashed off a brief note to Letty, asking her and Burton to come to tea this afternoon so that she could share her news with them and rang for a servant.
“This is to be delivered to my sister at once,” she instructed.
After that, she worked on menus for the coming week, which she hadn’t done yet because of their late arrival Monday night. All yesterday had been spent supervising the unpacking and seeing to things in the household as they opened the place for the next several months.
Just as she completed her task, her husband entered. Phoebe rose and met him.
“What do you need?” he asked brusquely, sounding inconvenienced to have been asked to stop by and visit with her briefly.
She tried not to be hurt at his tone. They rarely spent time together, which she’d discovered was actually a good thing. They lived under one roof but led separate lives.
“I know I rarely ask you to come here, Borwick, but I have some very good news.” She beamed at him. “We’re going to have another child. Next autumn.”
His usually solemn face lit with pleasure. “You are certain?”
“As much as I can be. It should be in late September.”
Borwick took her by the shoulders and kissed her cheek, surprising her. “This is most excellent news, my lady. You will need to see the doctor, of course, and confirm things with him.”
“Yes, I can arrange that,” she replied.
“I don’t want you doing anything strenuous.”
She smiled at his sudden thoughtfulness. “I won’t.”
He frowned. “I had wanted us to host a dinner next week.”
Chuckling, she said, “I am having a baby, Borwick. Months from now. I can plan a dinner with ease.”
“It’s just that it has been so long. I know we have Nathan but . . .” His voice trailed off.
“I understand. I will be careful. I doubt I’ll go to many events this Season, though. Most likely, just Letty’s ball.”
“No dancing,” he told her firmly.
Though she loved to dance, Phoebe merely nodded in agreement and added, “Who is it you wish to have for this dinner? And should I plan entertainment for afterward?”
“I’ll give you a list of guests to be invited. It will include a few men who might invest in one of my mines. You could think about having—”
“There you are, Papa!”
Nathan flew into the room and stopped short, seeing the stern look on his father’s face at being interrupted.
“Decorum, young man,” Borwick chided.
Phoebe wanted to protest. Nathan was only five years old. He was a boisterous child, full of good cheer. But what Borwick said was law in their home. When her son looked to her, she shook her head.
Contritely, he said, “I’m sorry, Papa. I’ll be good today.”
“Of course you’ll be good, my boy. You are the future Earl of Borwick.”
Her husband looked back to her. “Thank you for sharing the news with me. We’ll discuss the matter at further length once the boy and I return from our outing.” He touched his son’s shoulder. “Now, kiss your mother goodbye and we’ll be off.”
Phoebe bent and hugged her little boy tightly and then kissed him once. If Borwick hadn’t been present, she would have smothered Nathan’s face in kisses. Her husband didn’t approve of overt physical affection, though, saying it would make their son weak.
She walked them to the front door and said, “I do hope you will return by teatime. Letty and Burton are coming.”
“We should return long before that,” her husband promised.
She watched them head toward the waiting carriage. Nathan looked so happy as he accompanied his father to the vehicle and climbed inside with the help of a footman. Pride filled her, knowing how special her little boy was. Then she held her hands to her belly, thrilled at the new life growing within her and feeling doubly blessed.
Phoebe called at her seamstress’ shop later that morning, explaining to the modiste that she was with child and would need to change the previous order that she’d placed by mail. Fortunately, Madame Toufours hadn’t started on much, wanting Phoebe to pick out several of the materials. They settled on a half-dozen gowns now and she would return as her waistline expanded and new dresses would be created for her.
She r
eturned home and found Letty had replied to her note, assuring her that she and Burton would come for tea today and to catch up, since it had been several months since they had seen one another. Phoebe smiled, thinking how Letty had been her first child. Their mother had died when Phoebe was ten and Letty three and it had fallen to the older sister to mother her younger one.
Retreating to her bedchamber because she was exhausted by the outing, she took a nap. Upon awakening, she completed what she believed would be a suitable menu for her husband’s investors when they came to dine and discuss business. She would share the dinner party menu with Borwick when he returned and they could talk over ideas regarding the evening’s entertainment. She was fond of the pianoforte and hoped they might book a pianist.
By now, it was almost time for tea and she went downstairs to await her sister and brother-in-law in the drawing room. They arrived and it was obvious the couple had grown close since their marriage last August. Both greeted her warmly and she had them sit as the teacart arrived.
“Will Lord Borwick be joining us?” asked Burton.
“I told him you were expected before he left this morning. He took Nathan to see the new dinosaur exhibit at the British Museum. I would have thought they would have returned by now,” she replied, recalling that Borwick had said they should arrive home in plenty of time for him to take tea.
“How is my darling nephew?” Letty asked. “Growing straight and strong?”
Phoebe laughed. “You will be surprised when you see him. He’s grown so tall in just a matter of weeks.”
“Nathan will be going away to school before you know it,” Burton proclaimed.
The thought saddened her and she determined to make the most of the next few years before her boy left home to continue his education.
Letty swatted her husband. “No mother likes to think of her darling boy leaving her.”
Grinning, Phoebe confided, “There may be another boy in the family. Or perhaps, a girl. We also are expecting a child in late September.”
“What?” Letty gasped. “How wonderful!”
The sisters hugged again and Phoebe poured out for them. They all chose sandwiches for their plates and various sweets. She only hoped she would be able to keep the food down.