by Kathy Heart
The Rogue Duke
A Regency Romance
Kathy Heart
Published by
A Paradise for your Mind.
© Copyright 2018 by Fable Charm - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Table of Contents
The Rogue Duke
Introduction
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
The Rogue Duke
Introduction
Lady Madalene James does not want to be in Scotland. When her family’s carriage is waylaid by brigands, she thinks that that will be the most exciting thing to happen to her for the summer. Until she meets Andrew Dunn, Duke of Annadale, and her whole world is turned upside down. He is the son of noble houses in both England and Scotland. He has a great deal of influence and a large circle of friends, among whom is numbered an infamous highwayman. As he works to help his friend, he falls deeply in love with Maddi. But when she sees him with a strange woman with two children in tow, she thinks Andrew is committed to another, and so she refuses his proposal of marriage. Will she discover her mistake before she makes a fool of herself? And once he discovers what the cause of the misunderstanding is, will Andrew be able to persuade her to give him another chance?
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About Kathy Heart
Kathy Heart, a happy-go-lucky person, was raised on a farm. She studied abroad in the United Kingdom, with a major in English Literature, and a minor in European history. Once she graduated, she moved to New York City and worked as an interior designer part-time, and self-published author in the Regency Romance genre.
Chapter 1
The coach ride was interminable. Lady Madalene James and her parents were on their way to visit the James clan of Edinburgh, a yearly trip that she had begun to hate from the moment of her coming out at age eighteen. The London parties were a lot of fun, and the young men who tried to entice her each Season made her feel so beautiful and special. But the summer visits to Edinburgh had increased in length, and Maddi knew it was her parents’ fondest wish that she finds a nice Scottish laird to wed. She preferred the parties and the social scene in London, and at Winthrop Manor, where the local peerage resided in late summer. By the time they got back from Scotland, the marquess and marchioness would have returned to London, and the parties would almost all be over.
She sighed disgustedly, hating the way the carriage swayed and fell into the ruts in the poorly tended road. The conveyance was sturdy enough, and well appointed for long-distance traveling, but in her present mood, Maddi was not prepared to see any virtue in her surroundings. She settled her shoulder against the corner of the carriage seat and closed her eyes. Her parents sat across from her quietly observing the countryside, or speaking to each other in low tones, either oblivious to her pain, or uncaring of it. Neither one made her feel any more charitable toward them as they ignored her. She sighed heavily again, cocking an eye open to see if her sulking was having any effect. Remorse or guilt would have been nice, but her parents had now moved on to reading. Disgruntled, she closed the observing eye again and tried to sleep.
She thought of her relatives whom they were journeying to see. Lord John and Lady Fanny Darrow, the Earl and Countess of Oakley, were her mother’s brother and sister-in-law, and they and their children lived in drafty Cumberland Castle on the outskirts of Edinburgh, where each summer they hosted a number of parties of lesser quality than those in London, Maddi believed. They were pale imitations of the real thing, in her view, though to be fair, the fact that she did not really know most of the gentry who were invited to attend did make for some difficulty in fully enjoying the entertainment. And as if to add insult to injury, all the handsome young men invited each year were already taken, or evinced no interest in her whatsoever. Maddi did not enjoy being sidelined by buxom Scottish lassies with heavy burrs and ruddy cheeks
A short time later, before Maddi had had a chance to fall into sleep, the carriage gathered speed and swayed rather recklessly, as though the coachman were being chased by the hounds of Hell. Wild cries urging the horses on sounded in her ears, along with the heavily pounding hooves of the racing animals. The carriage tipped perilously, and Lady Mary James, Maddi’s mother, squealed in fright. The vehicle righted itself and slowed to a stop, but the cacophony of sound continued, as more horses’ hooves pounded up and scattered around the conveyance. Then she heard a man’s voice.
“Stand and deliver!”
The gruff voice ordered the coachman to step down from his perch, while what sounded like a barrel of monkeys seemed to be scrambling all over the vehicle.
Maddi went to look out the window, and Lord Henry James, her austere father, hissed at her.
“Madalene, keep yourself within! These highwaymen need not know there is a young woman aboard. I cannot keep you safe if you expose yourself to their attention.”
Maddi smiled amusedly, though she hid it behind a gloved hand raised to her lips to feign a yawn, being rather of the opinion that her dear papa could not keep her safe in any event, and protested,
“Oh Papa, what would they want with a slip of a thing like me?” she quipped. “I just want to see what’s going on. There’s so much shouting and carrying on. What do they seek?”
“Our valuables, my dear,” her mother interjected. “We are carrying some money with us, you know, as well as gifts for Cousin Fanny and Cousin John and the twins. I pray they do not seek to enter the carriage.” Lady Mary’s voice shook with suppressed fear.
Maddi listened harder, trying to determine how many brigands had waylaid their coach, and whether or not they sounded like desperadoes. More shuffling, thuds and bumps, and raucous laughter intrigued her, and before she could stop herself, she put her face to the window. All was ordered chaos without. There were about four men in the band, three in ragtag vestments, the fourth better dressed and clearly the leader. He was directing his gang of thieves as to the distribution of the items they had stolen, and once that was done, he invited the coachman to resume his seat and be on his way. Maddi’s cheeks flushed with color at the excitement of it all. This was probably going to be the most exciting thing to happen to her all summer, she thought, unconcerned for the inconvenience that a lack of money would mean for them. She was sure her mother had some hidden away somewhere on her person. She couldn’t imagine her parents being foolish enough to put all their valuables into the trunks.
Turning his horse, the highwayman saw her as his men rode off into the tree line. Maddi’s heart beat a rapid tattoo in her chest. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen, with his dark, wavy hair and gray eyes, one of which winked at her as he smiled and rode after his partners in crime. The coach started up abruptly, the coachman no doubt shaking with relief that he had not been more hard used by the brigands. He moved the horses along at a fast clip, shaking the passengers’ bones with little regard for their comfort as if he were trying to put distance between their conveyance and the brigands. Maddi watched as her parents strove to come to terms with the morning’s events, and she wondered how much they had lost. Time would tell. For now, they had to make the most of a bad situation. A visit to the local constabulary would no doubt be the first order of business once they had settled in, but there was little else they could do about things.
Cumberland Castle loomed like an enormous ghost ship in an ocean of gloom as they approached. It was dusk, and Maddi had had more than enough of the uncomfortable ride. Three days in a carriage, with stops at inns where the beds had been lumpy and the food mediocre, and a robbery, had made for a very trying journey. She was more than ready for it to be over, and no doubt so were her parents. Her mother was dozing against her father’s shoulder, and that gentleman stared into the gathering darkness outside his window. Maddi straightened her spine, and stretched.
“Papa, we must be almost there now,” she said, looking out the window herself.
The darkness had claimed the land, though a faint gray tint still lingered in the sky. As though to confirm her observation, the carriage turned off the road between two high iron gates onto a long entryway, and the coachman slowed the horses. Maddi could see the castle to her left, lit up against the now complete darkness, growing larger as they approached. The carriage made the last turn, and they were soon stopped in front of the dwelling. Lord John and Lady Fanny stood in the chilly evening air, accompanied by their servants with lanterns in their hands, waiting to greet them and escort them indoors. Maddi was helped down from the carriage at last, and stood with her parents while the servants unloaded the coach, and she bore the hugs and kisses of her relatives with ill-concealed impatience.
“You grow more beautiful each year, young Madalene!” her Uncle John said, his whiskery kiss tickling her cheek.
He was a tall, gaunt man with a dour expression that made him seem a perfect match for the castle. That is, until he smiled, and then his countenance was transformed. Maddi liked him well enough, and was more comfortable with him than with her even more austere aunt.
“Thank you, Uncle John,” she replied, striving to be polite. “And you grow more whiskery.”
Her uncle laughed heartily and gave her an extra affectionate squeeze. Her Aunt Fanny, almost as tall as her husband, with a face that was rarely relieved of its frowning burden by a lighter smile, stood waiting to be greeted. Maddi knew the routine. There was no hugging her aunt, but a kiss on the cheek was required, followed by a solemn and impersonal greeting. The required kiss having been delivered, Maddi said,
“Good evening, Aunt.”
One never addressed her aunt by her given name if one could avoid it. Maddi wondered, as they all trooped inside behind her, whether her uncle called her ‘Wife’ instead of Fanny. That might be one way to relieve her boredom this visit...she could keep a tally of the number of times anyone called her aunt by name. The thought made her smile, and her aunt bestowed a more severe frown upon her for such lightheartedness before turning to escort her guests into the castle.
“We were set upon by bandits on the high road,” she heard her father say to Uncle John. “I am certain they took all our valuables, including the gifts that we were bringing you.”
A distressed sound escaped her uncle’s lips, and he and her father went immediately into his study, while the ladies were escorted into the sitting room by the butler. Maddi was hungry, and hoped they were not to be served a paltry supper. Trays were brought in laden with pies and sweetbreads, with meats and cheeses and fruit, and a separate tray was placed where the ladies could serve themselves tea.
“Buntin, please see if their Lordships are ready for supper.” Aunt Fanny’s voice was as distant as her face, and when Buntin returned a moment later accompanied by the gentlemen, it achieved a notable shift, from cold to merely cool. “We are so happy that you could join us, gentlemen,” she said, with absolutely no intonation at all, so no one could tell how she was feeling.
Maddi ignored her relatives and dug into the food with appetite. Whatever else may be said about Cumberland Castle, the one thing that always made any stay there bearable was the food. The cook was exceptionally gifted in the gastronomic arts, which was surprising given where she worked. But the mince pies were a delight, the meats succulent, the cheese rich and hearty, the breads nutty and wholesome, and fresh made daily. Maddi washed down her supper with three cups of tea, and was then quite pleased to sit and doze by the fire while her elders droned on. She heard snatches of conversation...the constable would be summoned at the crack of dawn, the Earl of Ross had recently died, and his son and heir was coming back from the Americas to take over his holdings, there was to be a house party at the weekend...she had all but drifted off to sleep when she felt herself gently shaken.
“Really, Madalene, why did you not ask to be shown to your rooms? You are not a child, to fall asleep in the sitting room!”
Her mother’s reproving tones, albeit turned down to avoid notice, woke her up instantly, and she wondered, as she stifled a yawn, why her life had to be so difficult. Who made the rules regarding how and when people should fall asleep when they were tired? And why were those rules so particularly arduous for women? Covering her mouth to hide the yawn that no self-respecting lady ever allowed in public, she rose to her feet and was relieved when her mother did the same.
“Fanny, I think it best that Madalene and I retire for the evening,” her mother said. “She is dead on her feet, as am I. And after all the unpleasantness of the day’s journey, I hope we may be excused.”
Maddi blinked at her mother in astonishment. Aside from her having called her cousin by name, Lady Mary had spoken with an extra touch of asperity usually missing from her speech. She must really be exhausted. Whatever the cause, it seemed to galvanize her aunt, who rose and addressed the men.
“My Lords, the ladies and I will retire for the night,” she announced before turning and leading the way out of the sitting room, up the broad staircase to the second floor where she guided Maddi and her mother to their quarters.
A lady’s maid was waiting to help Maddi undress, and after she had had her hair brushed till it shone, she climbed into the luxury of a soft, warm feather bed. She was asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow.
Chapter 2
“Cailean, you will be discovered,” Drew warned, pacing back and forth before his friend, who lay atop his hard mattress staring at the ceiling. “You cannot long continue to steal from innocent passengers before you are shot and killed.”
Cailean Blair turned weary eyes to his friend’s face. “I know this, Drew,” he said, “but I do not have enough funds to pay for our passage to Nova Scotia. I canna leave my sister and her bairns to starve.”
“At least promise me to stay off the roads for the next fortnight,” Drew said. “I have business to attend to, including a house party at Cumberland Castle, where the victims of your latest adventure are currently housed. Fiona will have enough food and coin to keep her solvent for another two months. In that time, we will find a way to get you all to a ship, or at the very least perhaps find her a willing husband here.”
Cailean looked up at his friend, Andrew Dunn, the newly minted Duke of Annadale, and wished again that his life could have run along as easy lines as Dre
w’s. However, instead of a ducal inheritance in two countries, he was a wanted man, as like to be hanged as not, trying to find a husband for his sister, the unmarried mother of twins, and a way of escape to the New World for himself. He tried not to dwell on the way he had ended up in the predicament that he was in, but it was hard not to do so, when all around him, his story was clear.
The illegitimate second son of a philandering duke, Cailean had never had a chance at being anything more to his dead father than an embarrassing lapse in judgment. He had been left no inheritance, and had instead been warned against trying to make or have any kind of contact with his father’s family. His mother was a trollop, and his sister, who had been his only advocate before he had been banished, had been disowned for refusing to obey her family’s dictates where he was concerned. He felt wholly responsible for what had happened to her, as he had taken her into his shabby lodgings, where she had been mistaken for a woman of the streets and ill used by the landlord and his men.
He cut short the painful memories, and sat up. The room he occupied was drab at best, and downright depressing at worst. The walls were stained an unappetizing gray, and here and there were splatters of food thrown or blood spilled...Cailean could never tell. The wooden floors were permanently scarred by the markings of brawls and the movement of heavy furniture. The bed was sturdy enough, but the mattress was thin, and the bedclothes threadbare. A grimy window overlooked the street below, the dirt so thick it had no need of further covering. And yet he had strung a thin pillowcase across it, to disguise the times when he was in and not.
