Copyright © 2021 Sabrina Jeffries, LLC
Cover illustration © Jon Paul
Author photograph © Jessi Blakely for Tamara Lackey photography
The right of Sabrina Jeffries to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Published by arrangement with Zebra Books, an imprint of Kensington Publishing Corp.
First published in this Ebook edition in 2021
by HEADLINE ETERNAL
An imprint of HEADLINE PUBLISHING GROUP
Apart from any use permitted under UK copyright law, this publication may only be reproduced, stored, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, with prior permission in writing of the publishers or, in the case of reprographic production, in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cataloguing in Publication Data is available from the British Library
eISBN 978 1 4722 6634 7
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
About the Author
Praise for Sabrina Jeffries
Also by Sabrina Jeffries
About the Book
Dedication
Family Tree
LONDON SOCIETY TIMES
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
Epilogue
Don’t miss the dazzling novels in the Duke Dynasty series
Be seduced by the Sinful Suitors
Meet the Hellions of Halstead Hall
Find out more about Headline Eternal
About the Author
Sabrina Jeffries is the New York Times bestselling author of more than 50 novels and works of short fiction (some written under the pseudonyms Deborah Martin and Deborah Nicholas).
Whatever time not spent speaking to organizations around the country or writing in a coffee-fueled haze is spent traveling with her husband and adult autistic son or indulging in one of her passions – jigsaw puzzles, chocolate, and music.
With over 9 million books in print in more than 20 languages, the North Carolina author never regrets tossing aside a budding career in academics (she has a Ph.D. in English literature) for the sheer joy of writing fun fiction, and hopes that one day a book of hers will end up saving the world. She always dreams big.
For more information, visit her at www.sabrinajeffries.com, on Facebook at www.facebook.com/SabrinaJeffriesAuthor or on Twitter @SabrinaJeffries.
Praise for Sabrina Jeffries, queen of the sexy regency romance:
‘The women she writes are spirited, intelligent, devilish, brave, independent and politically and culturally savvy. They are true heroines’ Bookpage
‘The chemistry is as intense in the bedroom as it is in the science lab in Jeffries’s intoxicating third Duke Dynasty Regency romance’ Publishers Weekly on Who Wants to Marry a Duke
‘Sparkling banter, unique hero and heroine, and intriguing mystery make it irresistible’ Austenprose on Who Wants to Marry a Duke (5 star review)
‘Best-selling Jeffries brilliantly launches her new Duke Dynasty series with another exemplary Regency-set historical brilliantly sourced from her seemingly endless authorial supply of fascinating characters and compelling storylines’ Booklist on Project Duchess
‘Master storyteller Jeffries is at the top of her game’ RT Book Reviews
‘Quick wit, lively repartee, and delicious sensuality drive the elaborate plot of this sinfully delightful addition to Jeffries’s latest series’ Library Journal (starred review)
By Sabrina Jeffries
Duke Dynasty
Project Duchess
The Bachelor
Who Wants To Marry A Duke
Undercover Duke
Sinful Suitors
The Art Of Sinning
The Study Of Seduction
The Danger Of Desire
The Pleasures Of Passion
The Secret Of Flirting
Hellions Of Halstead Hall
The Truth About Lord Stoneville
A Hellion In Her Bed
How To Woo A Reluctant Lady
To Wed A Wild Lord
A Lady Never Surrenders
About the Book
Love is intriguing. . .
Along with his half-siblings, Sheridan Wolfe, Duke of Armitage, is determined to solve the mysteries behind the suspicious deaths of their mother’s three husbands. His investigations bring him into dangerous proximity with the captivating Vanessa Pryde, but the duke, still haunted by a tragically lost love, is resolved to resist the attraction. Besides, lovely Miss Pryde seems utterly smitten with a roguish London playwright. . .
Vanessa’s theatrical flirtation is intended only to break through the duke’s business-like demeanour and guarded emotions, for it is Sheridan she truly has her sights, and her heart, set on. As the duke’s jealousy becomes evident, the two find themselves propelled into a scheme involving a pretend engagement, a secret inquiry – and a perhaps not-so-secret leap into true love. . .
To my late mom, I miss you
and wish you hadn’t gone so soon.
Thanks for all the years of looking out for us and Dad.
LONDON SOCIETY TIMES
THE LAST DUKE STANDING
Dear readers,
I, your esteemed correspondent, cannot believe it. Not only has that randy devil, the Duke of Thornstock, actually married, but he chose Miss Olivia Norley as his bride! And this, after she refused him most soundly years ago. He must have reformed because Yours Truly knows full well Miss Norley would never have married him otherwise.
This means that his half brother, Sheridan Wolfe, the Duke of Armitage, is the only one of the dowager duchess’s offspring not yet married. What a coup it will be for the young lady who snags him! Although the usual wagging tongues claim he must needs marry a fortune to shore up his estate, that will not matter to anyone with an eligible daughter. He’s a duke, after all, and a young, handsome one at that, which is particularly rare. I daresay he will not be left unwed for long.
How delicious it will be to watch him hunt for his bride. Armitage is discreet where Thornstock was not, and he’s more reclusive even than his other half brother, the Duke of Greycourt. So it will have to be a most intriguing lady to pierce his armor and seize the rare heart that surely beats beneath. We await the result with bated breath.
Chapter One
Armitage House, London
November 1809
“The Duke of Greycourt is here to see you, Your Grace.”
Sheridan Wolfe, the Duke of Armitage, looked up from the list of horses in the stables of his family seat, Armitage Hall, to find his butler in the doorway. “Show him in.”
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Grey, his half brother, was supposed to be in Suffolk. Thank God that wasn’t the case. Grey would be a welcome distraction from trying to decide which horses should be auctioned off. Sheridan didn’t want to get rid of any of the truly superior mounts or prime goers. But the Armitage dukedom was being crushed by a mountain of debt, thanks to his late uncle’s overspending and the fact that Sheridan’s father . . .
A lump stuck in his throat. The fact that his father—Grey’s stepfather—had died much too soon.
Sheridan shoved the list aside. Damn it, it had been a year already. Why did Father’s death still haunt him so? Even Mother seemed to be handling it better than he was. If not for Grey’s arrival, he could take Juno out for a run in Hyde Park to get his mind off of it.
Perhaps later. The Thoroughbred mare had a knack for—
With a groan, he remembered that Juno no longer belonged to him. She’d been the first he’d had to sell to keep the estate afloat. He’d hated to do so—she was the best saddle mare in his late uncle’s stables—but it was either sell her or one of the racing Thoroughbreds, and he could still get money out of those in stud fees and racing prizes, even if they didn’t make good saddle horses.
What a depressing thought. He rose and walked over to the brandy decanter. He supposed midafternoon was early for spirits, but if he couldn’t ride, then he needed a brandy and a pleasant chat with Grey. He poured himself a glass and was about to pour one for his half brother when the butler showed Grey in, and Sheridan’s idea of a pleasant chat evaporated.
His brother looked as if he’d drunk one too many brandies already and was now about to cast up his accounts. Pale and agitated, Grey scanned the study of Sheridan’s London manor as if expecting a footpad to leap out from behind a bookcase at any moment.
“Do you want anything?” Sheridan asked his brother, motioning to the butler to wait a moment. “Tea? Coffee?” He lifted the glass in his hand. “Brandy?”
“I’ve no time for that, I’m afraid.”
Sheridan waved the butler off. As soon as the door closed, he asked, “What has happened? Is it Beatrice? Surely you’re not in town for the play, not under the circumstances.”
In a few hours the rest of the family would be attending a charitable production of Konrad Juncker’s The Wild Adventures of a Foreign Gentleman Loose in London at the Parthenon Theater. Although Sheridan barely knew the playwright, his other half brother, Thorn, had asked him to go because the charity was a cause near and dear to his wife’s heart: Half Moon House, which helped women of all situations and stations get back on their feet.
Grey shook his head. “No, I came to fetch an accoucheur to attend Beatrice. Our local midwife says my wife may give birth sooner rather than later, and she is worried about complications. So I’ve rushed to London to find a physician to examine Beatrice, in case the midwife is right. The man awaits me in my carriage even as we speak.”
Lifting an eyebrow, Sheridan said, “I would suspect you of having taken Beatrice to bed ‘sooner rather than later,’ but you’ve been married ten months, so this is hardly an early babe.”
“No, indeed. And the midwife might be wrong, but I can’t count on that. That’s why I stopped here on my way out. I need a favor.”
Sheridan cocked his head. “Sadly I have no skills in the area of bringing babies into this world, so—”
“Do you remember how we decided I should be the one to question Aunt Cora about those two house parties we suspected were attended by my father’s killer?”
“I do indeed.”
Their mother’s five children had finally concluded that her thrice-widowed status had not been just a tragic confluence of events. Someone had murdered her husbands, including Maurice Wolfe, the father of Sheridan and his brother Heywood, and the previous holder of the title Duke of Armitage. They suspected the person behind the murders was one of three women, all of whom had been at the house parties underway when the first two husbands had died. So Sheridan and his siblings were now engaged in a covert investigation, and had each taken assignments. Grey’s was to question his aunt Cora, otherwise known as Lady Eustace, who was no relation to any of the rest of them.
Sheridan suddenly realized what the “favor” must be. “No. God, no. I am not doing that.” Damn.
“You don’t know what I’m going to ask,” Grey said.
“I can guess. You want me to be the one to question Lady Eustace.”
Grey sighed. “Yes, given the situation.”
“You’ll be back in town soon enough. It can wait until then, can’t it?”
“I don’t know. I honestly have no idea how long I shall have to be in the country.”
Sheridan dragged in a heavy breath. “Yes, but why ask me to do it? I barely know her.”
“The others don’t know her at all,” Grey pointed out. “But you at least are friendly with Vanessa, and that gives you an excuse.”
Which was precisely why Sheridan didn’t want to do it. Because questioning Lady Eustace meant being around her daughter, Miss Vanessa Pryde, who was too attractive for his sanity, with her raven curls and lush figure and vivacious smile.
“I’ve chatted with Vanessa a handful of times,” Sheridan said. “That hardly makes me ideal for this.”
“Ah, but my aunt and I hate each other. That hardly makes me ideal, since it’s unlikely she’d tell me the truth.”
It was a poorly kept secret in their family that Grey’s uncle Eustace had badly mistreated Grey as a boy, hoping to force him to sign over several properties. That Grey’s aunt Eustace had looked the other way while her husband had done so.
Sheridan sipped some of his brandy. “And why should your aunt tell me the truth?”
“Because you’re an eligible duke. And her daughter is an eligible young lady. Not that I’m suggesting you should even pretend to court Vanessa, but her mother will certainly see the opportunity, and be more likely to let her guard down.”
“I’m not so sure. Your aunt has always been cold to me, probably because I’m a poor eligible duke. She’s looking for a wealthy man for Vanessa. And Vanessa will need one, to be honest. The chit is spoiled and impudent, a dangerous combination for a man who can’t afford expensive gowns and furs and jewelry for his wife. I’m already barely treading water. A wife like Vanessa would drown me.”
Grey narrowed his gaze. “Vanessa isn’t so much spoiled as determined to get her own way.”
“How is that different?”
“A spoiled girl has had everything handed to her, so she expects that to continue once she’s married. Trust me, while Vanessa has been given certain advantages, she’s also had to grow up in a turbulent household. Hence her determination not to let anyone ride roughshod over her.”
“Still, marrying such a woman means having constant strife in one’s marriage.”
“Gwyn and Beatrice are both of that ilk, and so far Joshua and I are quite content. Indeed, I rather like being married to a spirited woman who knows what she wants.”
“Good for you,” Sheridan clipped out. “But you have pots of money to indulge her if you wish, and I don’t. Nor does your wife have an absurd fixation on that damned poet Juncker.”
“Ah, yes, Juncker.” Grey stroked his chin. “I doubt that’s anything more than a girlish infatuation.”
“Trust me, I’ve heard her babble on about Juncker’s ‘brilliant’ plays plenty of times. She once told me some nonsense about how Juncker wrote with the ferocity of a ‘dark angel,’ whatever that means. Frivolous chit has no idea about what sort of man she should marry.”
“But you know, I take it,” Grey said with an odd glint in his eye.
“I do, indeed. She needs a fellow who will curb her worst excesses, who will help her channel her youthful enthusiasm into more practical activities. Sadly, she has romantic notions that will only serve her ill, and those are leading her into wanting a man she thinks she can keep under her thumb, so she can spend her dowry as she pleases.”
“You mean Juncker,” Grey said.
“Who else? You know perfectly well she’s been mooning after him for a couple of years at least.”
“And that bothers you?”
The query caught Sheridan off guard. “Certainly not.” When Grey smirked at him, Sheridan added with ill grace, “Juncker is welcome to her. She could do better perhaps, but she could also do a hell of a lot worse.”
“You’ve convinced me,” Grey said blandly. “Unless . . .”
“Unless what?”
“You’re merely chafing at the fact that she thinks dukes are arrogant and unfeeling, or some such rot. So she would never agree to marry you.”
“Yes, you told me.” More than once. Often enough to irritate him. “And I’m not looking for her to marry me.”
“I suppose it’s possible you could coax her into liking you, but beyond that . . .”
When Grey left the thought dangling, Sheridan gritted his teeth. “You’ve made your point.”
Not that Sheridan had any intention of making Vanessa “like” him. She was not the right woman for him. He’d decided that long ago.
“Didn’t you agree to fund Vanessa’s dowry?” Sheridan added and swallowed more brandy. “You could just bully Lady Eustace into revealing her secrets by threatening to withhold the dowry unless your aunt comes clean.”
“First of all, that only hurts Vanessa. Second, if my aunt is cornered, she’ll just lie. Besides, all of this depends upon our pursuing our investigation while the killer still thinks she got away with it. That’s why I haven’t told Aunt Cora or Vanessa that we’ve determined my father died of arsenic. Which is another reason you should question my aunt. She won’t suspect you.”
“What about Sanforth?” Sheridan asked. “Originally we decided I was to ask questions in the town. What happened to that part of our plan to find the killer—or killers—of our fathers?”
“Heywood can manage the Sanforth investigation perfectly well.”
That was probably true. Sheridan’s younger brother, a retired Army colonel, had already made significant improvements to his own modest estate. Compared to that, asking questions of Sanforth’s tiny populace would be an afternoon’s entertainment.
Undercover Duke Page 1
