by Lauren Royal
THE DUKE’S RELUCTANT BRIDE
Lauren Royal & Devon Royal
The Duke’s Reluctant Bride is the SWEET & CLEAN edition of Amber by Lauren Royal
4th Edition, July 2017
Novelty Books
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page
Book Description
More Chase Family Books
A Message from Devon...
Chase Family Tree
Cover Image
Dedication
1: Kendra Chase adored...
2: The Duke of Lechmere...
3: Kendra awoke...
4: "Are you hungry?"
5: Trick looked up...
6: Kendra was soaked...
7: Trick paced...
8: "Thank you, Jane."
9: "Nervous, man?"
10: An impromptu wedding...
11: The sun was setting...
12: The next morning...
13: "You're a duke!...
14: "Wake up, milady."
15: "Mr. Caldwell!"
16: "Robin Hood...
17: Seated at Trick's desk...
18: A week later...
19: "Trick?"
20: Her pulse pounding...
21: "Not very much."
22: They rode across...
23: Kendra sat while Trick...
24: After supper...
25: Trick eased through...
26: "Mrs. Kendra?"
27: "He left...
28: "How dare you...
29: Night was falling...
30: The room Trick had rented...
31: It was pitch-black...
32: "There's the castle...
33: Robbed of breath...
34: Niall motioned Trick...
35: Back downstairs...
36: Although it had grown late...
37: Still wide awake...
38: When dawn had broken...
39: Led by a piper...
40: Niall stomped...
41: "How is he doing, dearie?"
42: "Trick."
43: "Elspeth wasn't dying."
44: "If I'm going to lug this...
45: "Good evening, dearies."
46: The storm had diminished...
47: The breath left Trick's body...
48: "For the last time...
49: Halfway downstairs...
50: The day was sunny...
51: Trick laid a calming hand...
52: They mounted their horses...
53: Kendra's heart felt light...
54: The ride back to Duncraven...
55: "Sit still, milady."
56: "Grab her!"
57: The villains were already...
58: He was freezing.
59: It was nearing midnight...
60: Duncraven seemed lighter...
61: Kendra held Hamish's arm...
62: It felt strange ...
63: "The Duke and Duchess...
64: At Caldwell House...
65: Kendra woke...
66: Before leaving...
67: It hadn't quite been a lie.
68: Knowing he'd have to leave...
69: "Mrs. Kendra?...
70: "Lord Garrick...
71: When Compton met Kendra...
72: Garrick's kitchen...
73: "Kendra! Cait! Open up!"
74: Kendra woke in her old bed...
75: Never in her life...
76: "Kendra, you cannot go...
77: When her brothers left...
78: "The graveyard?"
79: The gatekeeper at Whitehall...
80: She bolted past Barbara...
Epilogue: Kendra ran...
Thank You!
BONUS MATERIALAuthor's Note
Explore the Chase Family World
Excerpt from THE VISCOUNT'S WALLFLOWER BRIDE
Books by Lauren & Devon Royal
Contest
About the Authors
Acknowledgments
Contact Information
Copyright Page
BOOK DESCRIPTION
The Duke’s Reluctant Bride is the SWEET & CLEAN edition of Amber by Lauren Royal
England & Scotland, 1668
Lady Kendra Chase's brothers insist it's high time she wed. But although they've presented her with an abundance of suitable young men, no one has caught her fancy—until her coach is held up by a dashing, mysterious highwayman. When the two of them are caught in a compromising embrace and her overprotective brothers demand they marry, Kendra is aghast. Are they really desperate enough to match her with an outlaw?
Scottish-born Patrick “Trick” Caldwell is the new Duke of Amberley—and also the so-called Black Highwayman. But he’s about to learn that leading a double life isn’t nearly as complicated as marriage. When he’s compelled to wed beautiful, headstrong Kendra, he finds himself caught between his perilous secret mission and his watchful new bride. Can Trick untangle the web of half-truths and heartache before he loses his one chance at love?
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A MESSAGE FROM DEVON…
Not gonna lie, I thought it was pretty cool growing up with an author for a mom! I’d always been into books (like, every morning when 1st grade reading time ended, Mrs. Schultz had to physically pry the book from my hands), plus there were perks. Mom was always home with us kids, so we never had to go to daycare. She was also always on deadline, so we got to eat a lot of Pizza Hut for dinner. And I could impress my friends by moseying into Barnes & Noble and casually pointing out my mom’s books on the shelves.
The only problem: I wasn’t allowed to read them!
Her romance novels were for and about adults, and I was just a kid. A kid who loved books and hated rules—so you can imagine my dismay.
Of course, the instant I was old enough, I swiped a full set of her books from the garage and devoured them all in a row. And I wasn’t surprised when I loved every one, because, you guys, my mom is seriously awesome.
Recently the aforementioned awesome lady had an awesome idea: releasing new, revised versions of her novels that are appropriate for all ages, so that everyone can enjoy them. To think, all those dismay-ful years could have been avoided!
I knew instantly I was the girl for the job. My mom and I have been writing together basically since I learned how to type—our first all-new collaborative release, Alice Betrothed, is a project we started when I was in middle school—plus, I was a sweet-romance-reading teenager myself only a few years ago. I literally bumped into walls walking around high school with my nose buried in a book.
There’s a crazy amount of fantastic romance out there right now—we’re SO excited that you’ve chosen our book! Like, spontaneous-dance-party-excited! I would be doing the robot right now if I weren’t busy typing. Maybe I’ll wrap up this letter so I can go do that.
I so hope you’ll enjoy Kendra’s story!
xoxo
March 2016
CHASE FAMILY TREE
To see a larger version of the Chase Family Tree, click here!
For Emma, Ashley, Elizabeth,
Kailee, Lauren, and Meggie,
the best bridesmaids a girl could ask for!
ONE
Sussex, England
June 1668
KENDRA CHASE adored her brothers, except when she wanted to kill them.
“Jason is right,” Ford told her as they rattled down the road in a shabby public coach. �
�You’re eighteen years old, and it’s high time you take a husband.”
“You’re eighteen as well,” she retorted, glaring at her twin, “but I don’t see you being dangled before every eligible lady in the county.”
Ford rolled his eyes. “It’s different for men, Kendra, and you know it.”
She did know it. But she didn’t have to like it.
“We only wish to see you live a life of comfort,” Jason put in. Crammed onto the bench seat between Kendra and his wife, Caithren, he tried unsuccessfully to stretch his long legs. “Or would you prefer to travel this way all the time?”
As if to drive home his point, the springless vehicle lurched in and out of a rut, rattling Kendra’s teeth. She gritted them. Though Jason was careful with money, he was, after all, the Marquess of Cainewood, and they did own a much more luxurious carriage. But one of its wheels had broken on their way out of London, and they’d been forced to take public transport—or else risk missing an urgent appointment back home at Cainewood Castle.
An appointment to introduce Kendra to the latest “suitable” man her brothers planned to foist upon her.
“Better the public coach than the Duke of Lechmere’s,” she said stubbornly. “I vow and swear, I’ll not become a duchess and be ‘your graced’ for the rest of my life.”
“And what, pray tell, would be wrong with that?” Jason shook his head. “I’ve never understood what you have against dukes.”
Kendra turned her glare on her eldest brother. “You may not understand my feelings, but plainly you were aware of them—and yet you approached Lechmere anyhow.” She noticed the other passenger, a stranger dressed in simple clothing, was observing their argument with frank interest. She glared at him, too.
A noise of agreement rose from Caithren’s corner of the coach. “I told you, Jase, that his grace wouldn’t suit Kendra,” she said in her Scottish brogue.
“And I told you, Cait, that she’s got no good reason to refuse him.”
Kendra huffed. “But he’s a—”
“Yes, he’s a duke,” Jason snapped, “that most abominable of creatures.” He began gathering the cards from the hand of piquet they’d just played. “You’ve dithered long enough. This is your last chance to make your own choice. If you won’t marry Lechmere, you’ll have to select one of the other gentlemen who have offered for you. Or I will do the selecting.”
“The other gentlemen?” Scoffing, Kendra tossed her head of dark red curls. “Old but well-off, or widowed and settled with children, or young but just plain boring. Stable, wealthy gentlemen in the good graces of King Charles, every last one of them.”
Jason’s green eyes flashed. “Yes, perfectly acceptable, every last one of them.”
“As it should be,” Ford put in, earning a kick from his twin sister. She would have kicked Jason, too, if she thought for an instant he meant to enforce his ultimatum. The wretched day had put him in a bad mood, that was all. He’d never marry her to someone she disliked.
Would he?
In any case, Caithren wouldn’t let him.
Kendra leaned forward to give her sister-in-law an imploring look. “They’ll never understand, will they?”
Cait’s eyes filled with sympathy and a bit of shared exasperation. She laid a hand on her husband’s arm. “I’ve told you before, Kendra wishes to marry for love, not—”
“Stand and deliver!” a deep voice interrupted from outside.
With an unnerving suddenness, the coach ground to a halt. Stopped in mid-sentence, Cait’s mouth gaped, and Kendra’s stomach clenched in fear.
Ford leaned forward and pushed open the door. A man on horseback—a highwayman!—poked his head inside.
The most gorgeous head Kendra had ever seen.
“You?” Jason and Ford said together.
They knew this villain?
Since Kendra hadn’t heard that either of her brothers had been hurt—or even robbed, come to think of it—most of her fear dissipated, and her heart lifted with excitement instead.
Nothing like this had ever happened to her!
Looking slightly disconcerted, the highwayman dismounted. “Aye, it’s me,” he said slowly. Beneath the mask that concealed the upper half of his face, a grin emerged, a slash of perfect white.
Well, not precisely perfect. One of his front teeth had a small chip, but she found that tiny imperfection charming. And he was dashing, not to mention dangerous. Why, if any of her hopeful suitors had been like this highwayman, she’d have married him in a trice!
She wanted to say something to make him notice her. But for the first time in her memory, her mouth refused to work.
His gaze swept the coach’s dim interior as though she weren’t even there. “You,” he said succinctly, motioning to the ashen-faced stranger seated beside Ford. “Get out.”
“There be five of us in here, three of them men, likely with pistols,” the man said stiffly. From his haircut, plain clothes, and the short, boxy jacket beneath his cloak, Kendra knew he was a Puritan. “Perhaps thee had better think again.”
“Oh, it’s violence you threaten, aye?” The highwayman’s voice was deep and a little husky, with, curiously, the barest hint of an accent. “Perhaps you had better think again. My friends,” he drawled, gesturing toward the hill behind him, “would make certain you cease to exist within the minute. Get out. Now.”
Kendra looked out the door and up. Sure enough, there were a dozen or so men at the top of the hill, their guns trained on the coach.
The Puritan must have recognized the threat, for he reluctantly climbed down. Kendra shifted within the coach, the better to see out.
The victim was a good foot shorter than the robber, who looked impossibly tall and elegant in a jet-black velvet surcoat. Close-faced and resigned, the Puritan emptied his pockets and handed over his money, then turned to reenter the coach.
The highwayman reached to grab the victim’s sleeve. “Not so fast.”
Visibly shaken, the smaller, older man stilled but said nothing.
The highwayman hesitated. “Surely a…man of business, such as yourself, will be carrying more gold on his person than this. Where is it? Sewn into your cloak? Hidden in your luggage?”
Though Kendra could see the rise and fall of his agitated breathing, the Puritan turned back boldly. “Surely thee has no need of gold,” he spat out, tugging his sleeve from the bigger man’s grasp while eyeing his groomed appearance and expensive, tailored suit. “A…gentleman such as thyself.”
The highwayman’s eyes were amber, edged in a deeper hue—bronze, Kendra decided—that now spread in toward the center as his expression hardened. “Your luggage and your cloak, then—seeing as you won’t cooperate.”
He swung his pistol in the coachman’s direction. The driver scrambled down and fumbled with the ropes securing the passengers’ belongings. A shove sent the Puritan’s trunk to the rutted road with a decisive thunk.
“Your cloak.” The highwayman held out his free hand, almost as though he were bored, while his victim struggled out of his plain mantle.
“What about them?” he sputtered, handing it over. His gaze swung toward the Chases.
The highwayman glanced inside and flashed Kendra’s brothers a conspiratorial smile before answering. “They’re friends. Good day.”
“Good day? Good day?” The poor man looked as red as a squalling newborn, and Kendra almost felt sorry for him—until she reminded herself that it was his ilk who had killed her parents during the Civil War.
Her brothers indeed carried pistols—and swords and knives and heaven knew what else—and had the man not been a Roundhead, she was sure one or both of them would have jumped to his defense. But because of men like this one, Jason had been left to raise his orphaned siblings, all of them forced to spend the Commonwealth years in poverty and exile.
She turned to watch the amber man remount and make his way down the road and up the hill toward his cohorts. He’d been superb. Magnificent.
Romantic, she thought on a sigh.
Amber. His clean-shaven, suntanned complexion. His eyes, a deep gold the color of the finest liquor. The black plume on his cavalier’s hat fluttered as he rode, and beneath it he wore a crimped brown periwig that rather reminded her of Ford’s hair. But she was certain the highwayman’s real hair wasn’t brown. Though many men had shaven heads under their periwigs, he wouldn’t. His own hair would be cut short, but not off, certainly—she shuddered at the thought—and it would be golden. Amber.
“Are thee going to let him get away with this?” the Puritan demanded, clambering up and glaring at her brothers with their rapiers at their sides.
One of Jason’s black brows rose, and he spoke for them both. “I expect so.”
The coach lurched and they continued on, but the atmosphere was decidedly strained, and the Roundhead got off at the next stop.
Kendra moved to sit in the now-vacant spot beside Ford. “A highwayman,” she breathed as soon as the carriage resumed moving.
“Why didn’t he rob us?” Caithren asked. “How is it you know him? He called you friends.”
“He uses the term lightly.” Jason’s smile was enigmatic. “We’ve run into him before. But he’s never robbed us.”
“He didn’t look like he needed to rob anybody,” Kendra pointed out. “His suit was nicer than yours.”
He’d looked nicer than Jason all around, she mused. Not that Jason was hideous, but he had the general look of her family, a look she was inured to, to say the least. The highwayman, on the other hand, had looked…exotic. All golden and dressed in black—black suit, black shirt, black boots, black mask—not the look of your typical scruffy outlaw, that was for sure.
Jason shrugged, absently running a hand through his wife’s straight, dark-blond hair. “Almost anyone can afford one nice suit of clothes, if he makes it his priority. You cannot judge a man by his looks, Kendra.”
But she had, of course. Judged him, and liked what she saw.
