“How about you ask your Father for advice?” she said. “I know you’re seeing him on your birthday next week. I am sure he knows many eligible young gentlemen.”
“That is not romance,” Helena said, outraged by the thought. “That is duty, and not what I want. My own parents were a love match, as you know. Mother ran away from home to be with Father. That’s what I want—not some arrangement of convenience and profit.”
“Perhaps not, but—”
“But nothing,” Helena said with a shrug. “Besides, there is simply no way that Father would do that to me.”
Chapter 2
“Good afternoon, Gentlemen,” David said as he marched through the main room of the gentleman’s club.
“Afternoon, Hartwick. And how are you on this fine day?”
“Always better for seeing you, William,” he quipped, hurrying past the young man.
He had a sheaf of papers tucked beneath his arm and his brown hair peeked out from beneath his hat. He walked through the club with purpose, stopping occasionally to make brief conversation with some of the club’s members. This was how it always happened when he visited the club, and he was there almost every day.
“Here, Hartwick! Any chance of getting some finer brandy in? This stuff tastes like urine.”
“You know I have nothing to do with that, William. You’ll have to bring it up at one of the meetings.”
“How do you know what urine tastes like?” Barton called from another table.
“I don’t, but if I had to guess, it would be like your wife’s kisses,” William said. “And this brandy.”
“You could always drink something else,” David said with a shrug. “The whisky is good, of that I am certain. I drank enough of it last night!”
David Barrington, the Duke of Hartwick, was three-and-thirty years, and a gentleman of humor and good breeding. He was a tall man, and his broad shoulders spoke of a muscular frame hidden away beneath his fine clothes. His eyes were coppery brown, flecked with rich earthy tones, while his perfectly groomed hair was almost chestnut in color.
“But you’re one of the top nobs, aren’t you?” William called, his voice straining as David had already passed him.
David swung around to answer him, a cocksure grin across his face, and as he spoke he continued to take small backwards steps in the direction of his table.
“I’m not any kind of nob, William. And you know full well I can’t make that sort of decision without the approval of the Committee. Try harassing them, instead.”
As well as his duties in the Dukedom, David helped out with the day-to-day leadership at the club. It was Committee run but with a strict hierarchy and, thanks to years of service, David was now near the top.
He did it more for a want to keep himself occupied than anything else. Without filling his days, David’s mind wandered into territory he did not wish to visit, and so he did whatever he could to stay busy. The past, he knew, was a wretched place.
Still, he was a proud man, with a kind and brave heart that he guarded closely. He felt lost more than he felt present, and he kept himself isolated whenever he could. The walls he had built around himself were all but impenetrable, and though he enjoyed the light-hearted, shallow banter of the gentlemen at the club, he rarely engaged in deeper conversation—and certainly never about himself.
“Any news on your hunt, Jeffrey?” he asked as he passed one particular table.
Jeffrey sat there with his nose in a book, his brandy glass balanced precariously on the arm of his chair. He looked up as David approached, and he sniffed.
“Not yet,” he said. “The private investigator I hired is absolutely useless. But I’ll find the brute who killed my Mother, you mark my words.”
“I have every faith,” David said with a nod. “You know I’m always here if you need anything.”
“Thank you, David. Your support means a lot to me.”
“Joseph!” David nodded toward the next table. “How are the wedding plans coming along?”
“How would I know?” Joseph said with a chuckle. “Her Mother has all but taken over. Not that I mind, really.”
“That’s what mothers-in-law are for,” Jeffrey said, turning his head to face them. “Taking over and generally being irritating. The sooner you learn that, Young Man, the more success you will have in your marriage.”
“Don’t get along with yours, then, Jeffrey?” David asked, his lips curling up into a grin.
“As if you’ve never heard him complain about her before,” Joseph quipped, his eyes bright with humor.
“She is the offspring of all that is evil,” Jeffrey said, peering over the top of his spectacles at them both. “I just pray they are wrong when they say a lady will ultimately become her mother.”
David opened his arms and offered them a mock bow. “And that, Gentlemen, is why celibacy reigns supreme.”
“And miss out on all that marriage has to offer?” Joseph said. “I think I’ll take the risk!”
David laughed, then turned and continued through the room, past the group of card players, around those who sat reading newspapers, until he found his habitual table in the corner.
It was his preferred spot in the club, for two main reasons. First, it was the only table from which one could view the entire room without needing to swivel in his seat. Second, it was hidden in a corner, allowing David a little privacy and removing the need for him to communicate with anyone, unless he chose to do so.
He put his papers down, then flicked the tails of his coat back as he took a seat with a deep sigh. As much as he enjoyed the chatter of the men, he recognized it for what it was—shallow, unfulfilling associations rather than real, genuine connections.
David had no true friends, not really, and he hadn’t had any since he was a young man of three-and-twenty, when he fell in with the wrong crowd. He wouldn’t allow himself friends any longer, not after what had happened all those years ago.
“Would you like anything, Your Grace?”
The footman appeared beside David as though by magic, so stealthily he had arrived.
“I’ll take a bowl of urine, please,” David said.
The footman paled and blinked. “I… I beg your pardon, Your Grace?”
David laughed, but then immediately felt guilty for teasing the man. “Brandy, please,” he said, his word disguised by the chuckle. “Lord William is under the impression it tastes like urine. I’m sorry if I—”
He shook his head, realizing he was not making much sense, and he was blithering at the poor man. He couldn’t even talk to a footman without making a fool of himself!
“I see,” the footman said, his cheeks coloring now. “Right away, Your Grace.”
David picked up the first of his papers and began to read.
“Anything interesting?”
David bit back his sigh of frustration as Arthur pulled out the chair opposite him and unceremoniously threw himself down. He looked up slowly from beneath his brow.
“Membership proposals, nothing more.”
He looked back down at his papers, hoping that would be the end of the conversation. It was not that he didn’t like Arthur—in fact, the opposite was true. Arthur was as close to a friend as David had and they talked often. But Arthur had a knack of getting David to open up and talk about his own life in a way he normally avoided. Today, he was not in the mood for it.
“Ah, yes, it’s almost that time of year again, isn’t it? When we’ll have an influx of new whippersnappers to bite at our heels. We oldies will be out on ears before we know it, if we keep allowing them in.”
“Oldies? Speak for yourself! I’m still in the prime of my life—you’re the only geriatric here.”
In truth, there was only two years’ difference between them, Arthur being five-and-thirty, but those two years were not ones David would forget lightly, and they jested about it often.
“That sounds exactly the sort of thing an old person would say.”
; Arthur Bexley, Duke of Huntingdon, was classically handsome. He had hair dark as night, and eyes as blue as the summer’s sky. When he smiled, the whole room lit up with the pleasure of seeing it, and everyone he spoke to left the conversation feeling wonderful.
He pulled a pipe from his pocket and stuffed the tobacco into the bowl, all the while talking to David.
“Have you had a chance to visit the new docks on the Thames yet?” he asked. “They’re quite impressive, I must say. That architect is something of an engineering genius, I’d say.”
“I haven’t, no, but I’ve heard all about them,” David said, putting his papers down and resigning himself to the conversation. “Many of the gentlemen are complaining about how much busier it has made London.”
Arthur snorted. “London didn’t need any help in getting busier, let’s be honest. But yes, Wapping is now teeming with people. I’m not surprised, really. The vessels are bringing in some wonderful products from all round the world. This very tobacco, for instance, is to die for.”
“You know I’m not a fan of smoking.”
“Indeed. You always were an oddity. But whether you like it or not, it’s great for commerce and ultimately, great for our coffers.”
David tilted his head to the side in agreement. “And making money is definitely something I am a fan of.”
“Exactly. So you can store it all away until you take a wife.”
“A wife!”
David and Arthur had this same conversation more often than David cared to remember, so he knew how it was to go. He leaned back in his chair and settled in to repeat his own parts of the script.
“Yes, it’s about time, My Friend. I believe a wife will do you a world of good.”
“And what about you?” David asked. He picked up his brandy and swirled it around in the glass before taking a sip.
“We’re not talking about me.”
“I have yet to meet anyone worthy of my love,” David said with an exaggerated sigh. He put a hand to his forehead, pretending at being distraught, but Arthur only tutted.
“I am not talking about love, David. I’m talking about marriage. Don’t you think it’s time you found someone to look after and provide you with an heir?”
“Don’t you?” David retorted. “You’re not getting any younger yourself. Besides, I don’t need anyone to look after me. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”
“And why be merely fine when you could have it all?” Arthur urged, leaning forward in his seat. “I’m telling you, David, you need a wife. At the very least, she’d take the edge of the loneliness.”
“I am not lonely,” David snapped back, but even as he spoke the words, he squirmed in his seat. He prayed his true feelings were not as obvious as Arthur made them out to be.
“If you say so.” Arthur shrugged.
“Besides, you nag me quite enough. I do not need a wife as well!”
They lapsed into a companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Arthur was probably right, a wife would do David good, but he couldn’t allow himself to get close to anyone. He had committed far too many wrongs in his life to be worthy of any kind of love.
But Arthur had not taken a wife either, and he hadn’t thought much of it at all. While for David, remaining alone was the only way he could hide his guilt and his scars, for Arthur being a bachelor—and a brazen one at that—was all he had ever wanted from life. That’s why his next words came as such a surprise to David.
“I think I’m in love.”
“What!” David’s head jerked up in surprise. That was a sentence he never expected to come from Arthur’s mouth.
“I said, I think I’m love.”
“You’re mocking me, aren’t you?” David narrowed his eyes at Arthur, but to his even further shock, he seemed genuine.
“Not at all. I met her yesterday.”
“You know her well, then?” David chuckled. “Who is she?”
“I don’t know.” Arthur shook his head. “Our conversation was brief, at best, and she wasn’t particularly forthcoming.”
David roared with laughter, throwing his head back and slapping his thigh.
“I’m being serious!” Arthur cried, although with laughter behind his words, too. “She truly was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, and since I met her, I cannot get her out of my head. She has invaded my peace of mind.”
“Where did you meet her?” David asked, catching his breath, though his eyes still sparkled with the residue of laughter.
“At the marketplace.”
David, unable to contain himself, laughed again. “The market! Quite the usual haunt for finding love,” he mocked. “Did you manage to talk to her at all?”
“A little,” Arthur replied, his cheeks coloring with embarrassment. “She’s a commoner, a maid, I think.”
“A maid!”
“You’ve got to understand, David.” Arthur leaned forward in his seat again, urging his friend. “I am desperate to find her again. She was like an angel, and my soul is crying out for her.”
“Really, Arthur,” David tutted. “If you’ve a penchant for maids, there are much simpler ways of going about it.”
“It’s not maids in the plural I like, but this particular one. I am telling you, I will find her, and I will make her my wife!”
“Because that doesn’t sound at all sinister,” David laughed. “How can you be so sure she will agree?”
“Because it’s fate, David. It’s fate. And once we are married, we can do our level best to pair you off with someone, and we shall all live happily ever after.”
Want to know how the story ends? Tap on the link below to read the rest of the story.
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Thank you very much!
Also by Scarlett Osborne
Thank you for reading A Fiery Duchess for the Dashing Duke!
I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, may I ask you to please write a review HERE? It would mean the world to me. Reviews are very important and allow me to keep writing the books that you love to read! ♥
Some other stories of mine:
The Blind Duchess and her Wicked Duke
His Minx of a Countess
A Scandalous Desire for Duchess Wallflower
Captive to the Kiss of a Wicked Duke
A Guide to the Bed of her Lord
To Desire and Conquer Lady Temptress
***
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Scarlett Osborne
About the Author
Born in the Sunshine State of Florida, but of both British and Nordic descent, Scarlett Osborne grew up reading historical romances from the land of her ancestors. Fascinated with the British society of the 1800s and armed with a wild imagination, she obtained a degree in Creative Writing and immediately started her career as a Regency romance author.
A daydreamer extraordinaire, Scarlett likes to jump in the shoes of her heroines, immersing herself in her own stories, living the adventures that she wished she had experienced as a child. An avid reader and fan of the outdoors, Scarlett spends her free time either reading or going on long horseback rides along with her two sons.
Get lost in a land of enchantment, where adventure and love await around every corner...Scarlett hopes that through her heroes, you too will get to live a whirlwind romance in the Regency era, when fairytales were real and all dreams possible!
Scarlett is part of Cobalt Fairy’s team of authors! Visit cobaltfairy.com for new, bargain and free deals for every dedicated bookworm there is out there!
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A Fiery Duchess for the Dashing Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 28
