by Claudia Dain
Praise for
How to Dazzle a Duke
“Funny, superbly sensual, and filled with sassy wit and appealing characters, this rewarding story will be in demand.”
— Library Journal
“A delightful work full of bantering conversation, clever transitions from scene to scene.” —Romance Reviews Today
“I have loved Claudia Dain’s courtesan series from the very first book . . . Sophia is such a vivacious and scandalously rich character that one would have to be simply mad to miss her adventures! Miss Dain is deucedly clever, witty, and the fabulous cast of characters she has created are a delight to revisit and learn more about each time. Don’t miss this fun romp through the ton . . . You are going to love this series!”
— Sapphire Romance Realm
The Courtesan’s Wager
“Outrageous, offbeat, hilarious, and sinfully sensual, this romance employs lively, sassy dialogue, rare wit, and an effervescent sense of fun . . . Another winner.”
— Library Journal
“Dain concocts another wonderfully witty story, complete with unforgettable characters, sparkling dialogue, a clever plot, and amusing situations.”
— Booklist (starred review)
“Dain is a master of the Regency romp, and this one has witty repartee and an authentic setting. The characters are engaging, unpredictable, and outrageously funny.”
— Romantic Times
“A clever story and highly entertaining.”
— Fresh Fiction
“Told in a delightfully dry, tongue-in-cheek voice, this romance chronicles verbal skirmishes and even a physical brawl or two as part of an ongoing battle in the war of love.”
— BookPage
The Courtesan’s Secret
“Clever, smart, fresh, and passionate . . . [A] lively romp . . .
Delightfully entertaining.”
— Library Journal
“Highly amusing repartee and some wickedly attractive open ends round things out.”
— Publishers Weekly
The Courtesan’s Daughter
“This cleverly orchestrated, unconventional romp through the glittering world of the Regency elite [is] graced with intriguing characters, laced with humor, and plotted with Machiavellian flair.”
— Library Journal
“[The author adds] a feel for the ton . . . Well written.”
— Midwest Book Review
“Wonderful . . . Great dialogue . . . Sophia the seasoned courtesan [is] so feisty and fun . . . Don’t miss this fresh and extremely fun romp through romantic London. It is, as Sophia would say, ‘Simply too delicious to miss!’ ”
— Night Owl Romance
And more praise for Claudia Dain’s novels
“Claudia Dain’s emotionally charged writing and riveting characters will take your breath away.”
— New York Times bestselling author Sabrina Jeffries
“Dain deftly blends humor, adventure, suspense, and pathos.”
— Booklist
“Claudia Dain writes with intelligence, sensuality, and heart and the results are extraordinary!”
— New York Times bestselling author Connie Brockway
“Claudia Dain never fails to write a challenging and complex romance.”
— A Romance Review
“[Claudia Dain writes] a red-hot romance.”
— Publishers Weekly
Berkley Sensation Titles by Claudia Dain
The Courtesan’s Daughter
The Courtesan’s Secret
Tthe Courtesan’s Wager
How to Dazzle a Duke
Daring a Duke
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
DARING A DUKE
A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author Copyright © 2010 by Claudia Welch.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
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ISBN: 1-101-43824-X
BERKLEY® SENSATION
Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY® SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
To my three chicklets—
you are the heartbeat of my joy.
One
London 1802
Miss Jane Elliot of New York had traveled to London to have an adventure. She was, as yet, not having one. She had been in Town for a single day and a morning, which was perhaps too soon to have arranged for anything in the way of excitement; however, she knew it was not the fault of a disadvantage of time, but purely a disadvantage of company. She would never be able to arrange any sort of meaningful adventure with all the obstacles, and by obstacles she meant men, in her path.
She had her two brothers with her, ships’ captains both, who were, it was perfectly obvious, not the sort of men to allow a woman to wander freely about the Town. She had thought that, once ferried to their aunt and uncle at Hyde House, things would loosen a bit, enough for her to find her feet and get her bearings. She’d also thought, hoped really, that English men, her cousins namely, would be different from her very American brothers.
They were not. Her cousins, beginning with Lord Iveston, who was soon to be married, down to Josiah, who was not, barely allowed her into the large back garden to get a breath of air. What they imagined could possibly happen to her in a back garden she couldn’t begin to guess.
She’d finally been allowed to leave America and see something of the world and all she was seeing was a back garden. There were more back gardens in New York to have satisfied every urge for back garden exploration by now. She was twenty-one and ready for an adventure.
It was very difficult to have any sort of adventure with two older brothers at her heels.
Too many men, that was the trouble. Entirely too many male relatives. Why, including her cousins, who did seem very eager to take on the job of watchdog, that made seven fully grown men who had obviously made it their chief am
bition to keep her from adventures of any sort whatsoever. So typical of men, really. They did seem so selfish about keeping all of life’s adventures entirely in male hands.
The one pleasant surprise she’d found within the walls of Hyde House were the new wives dwelling there. They were very British, of course, which created its own challenge, but they were female, and that was very welcome indeed. She was prepared to tolerate their bone-bred British delusions of superiority for the implied comfort of their common sex.
“I should have known that it would be Penelope Prestwick,” Louisa said, shaking her red head almost playfully.
“If any woman was capable of snatching Iveston up, I knew it would be she. I’ve always thought her to be the most clever of women.”
“Is that the word you used?” Amelia asked. “I must be remembering it differently.”
“Yes. You certainly must,” Louisa answered, giving Amelia a rather arch look.
Louisa and Amelia were cousins. They had married brothers, just this Season, in fact. They were quite close and therefore quite often sharp with each other, and it was plain that neither minded being sharp in the slightest. Jane was not quite certain if it was a British trait or merely a trait within their family. Either way, she was making it a point to tread as carefully as she could with them, at least for the present. How she decided to treat them later, as they all became more familiar with each other, would rest entirely upon how they treated her now while they were still com-parative strangers.
Men were a challenge, of course, but women were equally so. It was never sound policy to put too much trust in anything a woman might say. Or a man. And most especially a British woman or man.
She was from New York, after all. Was she to be expected to think otherwise?
“That’s not at all what you said, Louisa,” Eleanor said.
“Why pretend otherwise? It’s only us. We’re all family.”
Eleanor, Louisa’s younger and only sister, had quite a habit of making the most forthright remarks. Jane had warmed to her nearly instantly.
But, of course, upon that remark, Louisa looked askance at Jane with a swift movement of her eyes, and then looked at Amelia. Amelia smiled and looked at Jane without any hesitation whatsoever. Or rather, without any noticeable hesitation.
Family? Yes, they were all family, after a fashion.
It was all rather complicated, as families usually were.
Jane’s mother was sister to Molly, the Duchess of Hyde.
Amelia and Louisa, cousins through their mothers, who had been sisters, were married to brothers, who were the sons of Molly.
So.
Were they family? Yes. By marriage, which was not as firm a thing as blood, but nearly so. Were they bound by the usual bonds of family devotion and loyalty? It didn’t seem likely.
They were British, and of the aristocracy at that.
She was American, and certainly no one she knew had forgotten the war for independence, and the British navy did have the most unattractive habit of snatching men off American ships whenever the mood struck. As her father was in shipping and as he had been quite involved during the recent revolution, it was not something she was inclined to ignore.
How her mother and Aunt Molly had ever kept alive the bonds of familial devotion was a bit of a mystery, unless one believed that the bonds of family were unbreakable, that is. Her mother devotedly believed so. Her brothers and her father were leaning firmly against the notion. Jane was nominally undecided, mostly for her mother’s benefit.
Being in England, with her British relatives, was supposed to encourage her to fall in with her mother’s conclusions about the matter.
It was perfectly obvious that her mother had sanctioned this voyage to England in the hope that Jane would become entranced by the British side of her family, a highly unlikely outcome.
Jane had come because it was an adventure. Or it should have been an adventure, if she could only find a way to see beyond the walls of Hyde House and the back garden.
Would the women of the family help her? More importantly, could they help her? One did hear the most amazingly unlikely things about the women of the ton, and of the many things they were and were not permitted to do.
“You did not approve of Penelope?” Jane asked Louisa.
As Jane had been introduced to Miss Penelope Prestwick only last night and had found her to be quite pleasant, she was curious as to what possible objections Louisa could have had to her.
“Approve?” Louisa said, setting down her cup on a nearby table. They were in the music room of Hyde House, a truly impressive room of huge proportions and a fortune in fine furniture and musical instruments on display. Jane, whose own lovely home in New York could not begin to compare, had spent most of her first day in Hyde House trying not to gawk. She was confident that she had mastered the response as today was midmorning of her second day. “It was nothing so tawdry as approval, Jane.”
As a setdown, it served quite well. Jane, however, merely smiled and raised an eyebrow. Louisa, Henry’s wife, was somewhat sharp as a rule. Henry, her cousin, seemed to find that endlessly amusing. It was unfathomable, really.
“Not disapproval?” Jane replied. “Then I suppose it was simply that you didn’t like her.”
Eleanor burst out laughing. Jane quirked a smile at Eleanor and then turned back to face Louisa. Jane had learned after only an hour of knowing her that one did not turn one’s back on Louisa Blakesley. She was not vicious precisely, but she was volatile.
“Of course she did not like her,” Eleanor said, tucking her feet up underneath her, her slender body curved into a ball on the end of the small settee placed near the window facing Piccadilly. “Louisa did not like anyone who might have taken Lord Dutton from her.”
“Penelope Prestwick was never going to waste an ounce of interest on Lord Dutton,” Amelia said, shaking her blond head slowly. “It was a duke or nothing for her and Dutton is nothing of the sort.”
“And now she’s got Iveston,” Eleanor said, squirming slightly, her knees moving under her muslin skirt.
“And in only a day,” Amelia said, smiling. “An impressive bit of work, that.”
“You hardly seem bothered by it,” Jane said.
“Bothered? Why should we be bothered?” Louisa asked, eyeing Jane with a tad too much scrutiny than was polite.
Jane had quickly become inured to it.
“Is it not a bit forward?” Jane asked softly.
“But of course it is,” Louisa said, leaning back upon her chair. “How else is a woman to get the man she wants if not by being forward? Men are so very backward about everything, aren’t they, and a woman is simply forced to bring them to heel. I can’t think but that American men must be the same. Aren’t they?”
“I’m afraid I lack the experience to know,” Jane said, setting down her cup on a highly polished table to her right.
“Truly?” Louisa said with a definite sparkle of mischief in her vivid blue eyes. “There is no special gentleman in New York who has captured your heart?”
“Certainly not my heart. Not even my attention,” Jane responded instantly, her mouth quirking into a half smile.
“Truly?” Eleanor asked, sitting up pertly on the sofa, her feet upon the floor once again. Eleanor had very little capacity for stillness, which sometimes reminded Jane of a bird in a cage, fluttering and hopping about, inquisitive energy and warbling joy battling within her narrow frame.
“You are not betrothed, or even spoken for?”
“Not even whispered for,” Jane said.
“But, your family,” Amelia said, putting down her cup and leaning forward, every movement expressing concern,
“they are not eager for you to make a good match?”
“I think they expect that I will, but they are not anything so energetic as eager,” Jane said. “I am far too young for marriage to be the business of the day.”
“But are
n’t you one and twenty?” Eleanor asked.
“Yes,” Jane said, smiling fully. “Is that old by English standards?”
“Not old,” Louisa said, “but old enough. Are you not eager to be wed?”
“Since no man has been able to capture my attention, let alone my regard, I should say that I am far from being eager. That’s logical, isn’t it? Or isn’t it?”
“Are all American women like you, Jane?” Eleanor asked, her dark blue eyes glittering with curiosity. Eleanor was curious about a great many things. It was entirely likely that she was kept sequestered and allowed only back garden adventures as well.
“I have no idea,” Jane answered dryly, “since I rarely leave New York and there are, I’m told, women in other areas of the country. I take it that not being eager for marriage has made me entirely contrary, then? Am I now determined to be unnatural in my interests?”
“But you are interested in men, aren’t you?” Louisa asked.
“Tolerably,” Jane responded with the barest hint of sarcasm. “When I happen to find one who will sit still long enough for me to study him. I can’t begin to contemplate marriage without a thorough study of the man I might deign to consider. I’ve yet to find a man who will sit quietly long enough for me to perform a proper examination.”
“There is that,” Amelia said with a soft sigh. “They can be very difficult to pin down. Something in their diet, no doubt.”
“Or their education,” Eleanor said, nodding, her eyes bright.
“Or the general arrangement of their,” Louisa said baldly, “manly bits.”
Jane laughed. Louisa laughed with her. It may have been the first unguarded moment between them.
“Louisa, you are grown coarse,” Amelia said, though she was grinning.
“Oh, no,” Eleanor said, “she’s always been coarse.”
“Thank you, Eleanor,” Louisa said, reaching over to pull her sister’s dark red hair.
Eleanor swatted Louisa’s hand away and tucked her body into a ball again, her gaze returning to Jane.
“But Jane,” Eleanor said, leaning forward, “it is all of love matches in America, is it not? You are free to marry where you will?”
