by Dayna Quince
To Love, Honor and Obey
Hot Historical Romance
Dayna Quince
Dreamcatcher Books
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Epilogue
Newsletter sign up
About the Author
Also by Dayna Quince
Afterword
Copyright
Chapter 1
Lord Willowton,
His Grace requests your immediate return to Willowton Park in preparation of your inheritance.
Sincerely,
M. Atler, Esquire.
* * *
How official. Chance sneered as his coach bobbed and swayed over the familiar roads that led home. Home. He sighed and looked out the window, not paying attention to the passing trees and farms. He was going home to see his father, a robust man fondly referred to as The Bear Duke, who was reaching the end of his life’s tether. For all Chance’s life, he had been the image of invincibility. He was like a Viking warrior—large, bearded, loud, and boisterous. He drank whiskey by the barrel, hunted, rode, and made a mockery of slim, elegant gentlemen when he wore his blacks. He was an unstoppable force. So why—Chance raised his eyes to the heavens—was he being summoned home to prepare for his father’s death?
It was unthinkable. It was heartbreaking.
Chance gritted his teeth and pictured finding his father in the best of health, coming back from a ride, possibly with a small deer slung over his shoulder. That was how he usually spent his time in the country. Riding, hunting, everything Chance had taken for granted. He had spent all his time in the country as a boy until he went to school. It was there he discovered his natural talent for being an aloof gentleman. He wore fine clothes, supple glossy Hessians, jackets and pantaloons so fitted they felt like his skin. He was charming, he was debonair, and he behaved perfectly in every situation. He was wealthy, eligible, and highly sought after by marriage-minded mamas. Nevertheless, when he returned every summer during university, it was back to his worn buckskins, scuffed top boots, riding, hunting, and swimming. Generally being the heathen his father had raised. It had kept him grounded while enjoying the frivolity of town life, kept him from being a ridiculous fop or a drunken gambling wastrel.
He knew the feel of wet meadow grass under his feet and the taste of wild acorns, but when in town, he played a role. He pretended to be above those things. Why? Well... He didn’t exactly know.
He hadn’t been home in years. His father had always made short jaunts to town, bringing father and son together for small visits. It wasn’t that Chance didn’t love his father. He truly did, but his father was rather...abrasive to the senses. His laughter boomed from him like thunder. His conversation centered on politics, war, and anything that shouldn’t be uttered in polite conversation.
But he was his father, and along with all those embarrassing attributes, he was a great father. He taught Chance how to ride, hunt, fish, read, and to know when to put up your fists or reason with words. He was the kind of father that gave great big hugs and kissed his son goodnight. A unique duke, if there ever was one, which made the thought of his death all the more painful.
The coach turned up the familiar oak-lined drive. Nothing had changed. Everything looked the same as when he battled imaginary dragons across the lawns as a small boy. The coach stopped in front of the portico, and Chance stepped out before the footman reached the door. He nodded to Edgar, a footman he had helped his father interview, and then headed inside. The greetings were somber, eyes downcast, and smiles fleeting. Everyone was already mourning the loss of their lord, the man they laughed with and worked to the bone with when the east barn collapsed. His father had joined in raising a new one. That was his father, a titled gentleman but also just a man.
“How is he?” Chance asked.
“He is resting, my lord. Would you like some refreshment after your journey?”
Chance grimaced. His body ached from travel. The last thing he wanted to do was sit. “No thank you, Gable. I’m going to the creek for a swim. I won’t be long, and then I will see my father.”
“Yes, my lord.” Gable nodded and directed the footman to take Chances belongings to his rooms.
Chance headed to the back of the house. Walking through the house was like stepping back in time to when life was much simpler.
“Obedience, you know how inappropriate it is to go swimming in nothing but a shift where anyone could come upon you.”
“There is no one in residence who would venture to the creek for miles, Patience. Who would see me?” Obedience said as she buttoned the front of her bodice.
“The Marquess of Willowton for one,” Patience returned snidely.
Obedience spun away from the mirror. “Teddy’s back?” she squealed, though she abhorred ladies who squealed.
“I cannot believe you would still address him so informally. Please remember to act like a well-educated lady. Now that I have debuted, your actions reflect on me.”
Her younger sister sighed impatiently and fussed over her perfectly curled hair in the mirror.
It was really Obedience who should be giving lectures on behavior, being that she was four years older, but for the majority of her life, Obedience had known she was different. All the decorum a proper young lady should exhibit seemed to elude her. She wasn’t graceful, she couldn’t sew, sing, or play the pianoforte, and most times, she could barely sit still.
Obedience just couldn’t help it. She liked to move, do things, dirty her hands, and run until her cheeks were pink and her heartbeat echoed in her ears. She long suspected she should have been a boy.
If she were a boy, she could climb trees, swim, and beat any man in a horse race without the threat of ruination upon her family. But alas, she had been born a girl with rioting black curls that wouldn’t hold pins. And now she had developed hips and a full bosom that were always getting in the way, or at least threatening to spill out of the ridiculously fashionable dresses her mother insisted she wear.
Obedience couldn’t help who she was. It was in her blood. Along with her looks, she had inherited her father’s wild demeanor. He had died when she was ten years old, leaving a hole in her heart that his vibrant and loving presence used to fill. All she had left of him were her dark locks and blue eyes. He had been her only ally. Without him, she was the black sheep, the awkward middle sister between her elder sister of three years, Prudence, and her younger sister, Patience.
The sun was high as Obedience made her way through the wheat fields that ran along the western border of the grand estate of His Grace, The Duke of Maltravers. Obedience had known the Armstrong family all her life. Her father, Lord Clive, had been the local magistrate and a frequent guest of His Grace’s hunting parties. Obedience had frequently swum with Chance, the duke’s only child and heir, as children. In fact, it was Chance who had taught her how to swim.
As she drew near the line of trees that ran the length of the creek, she could hear the quiet bubbling of water against rocks. The creek ran through a small ravine, breaking into waterfalls that dumped into pools ground out by time. The surroundings were lush and green. Oaks and willows lined the banks creating a thick canopy that trapped the warmth of the afternoon sun.
She picked her way down a well-worn path. It brought her to the bank o
verlooking the largest of the falls that emptied into the deepest pool. She looked down, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she saw the lean back and muscular arms cleaving the water. He was swimming away from her, but if she took a running leap, she could land beside him.
Never one to waste an opportunity, Obedience quickly undressed and stepped back a few steps.
“Tally ho!” she shouted as she ran to the edge and her feet left the ground. The drop was not far, so she balled her legs under her for optimal splash.
She only had time to see Chances startled glance just before she hit the water—a little too close to him.
Chance had only enough time for a quick inhale of breath before a pair of feminine legs filled his vision. She broke the surface of the water, landing on his chest and knocking the breath from his lungs. It felt like minutes had passed before he could find the surface. She popped up at the same time, laughing delightedly while he coughed and sputtered.
“Oh Teddy, did I hurt you?” She giggled.
“You almost did me in, you—” He froze. His eyes felt like they were bulging from their sockets.
“What is it? Did I really hurt you?” she cried in alarm. She grabbed his arm and tugged him toward the bank. He followed her, and when they reached the bank, she spun around to face him.
“Where are you hurt? Oh, please don’t be hurt, I was only—”
“Obedience?” he said dumbly.
Tears pooled in her eyes. “Oh God, it’s your head! I knocked your senses right out of you. It’s me, don’t you remember me?” she asked hysterically and hugged him.
Chance stared down at the top of her head in amazement. He was dumbstruck by the woman before him, who slightly resembled the girl who had been his constant shadow. She had been an aspiring hellion then, and by all indications had succeeded, but what left him at a loss for words was her startling beauty.
Chance almost groaned aloud. She was unabashedly pressing her body against him, and while his body was appreciative of such attention, his brain was still frozen on her identity. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was Miss Obedience Wickenham, all grown up. Belatedly, Chance pulled out of her embrace and put her at arm’s length lest he embarrass himself and thoroughly shock her. His body was all too aware of how grown up she was now.
“Obedience, I’m fine, I was just...shocked by how much you’ve changed.” He looked down at her, his gaze raking her curling black hair, wet shift cloying to her body—thankfully, not transparent—and her wide, glittering blue eyes.
Chance quickly looked away and backed up into the cool water until he was waist deep.
“I’m sorry, Chance. I didn’t mean to startle you. I just wanted to surprise you.” She was timid, but she followed him back into the water. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.” He laughed nervously. “Just surprised me...really surprised me.”
“I was so glad to hear you were home, and then I saw you here, and well... I wanted to make a big entrance.” She smiled.
“That you did.” His eyes darted to her again and looked away. “It’s been some time, Porcupette.”
“Ugh.” Obedience rolled her eyes. “Please don’t call me that. I hate it, and you know I do.”
“I know, but your name does not suit you.” He laughed, trying to relax enough to leave the water.
“I heartily agree, but it is the only name I have, and I am much too old to be called a baby porcupine.” She sighed. Why did it still sound so endearing coming from him?
“All right then. Now that you are all grown up, I shouldn’t address you so informally.”
Obedience narrowed her eyes at him. “Don’t start that. I will forever call you Teddy. That will never change.”
Chance winced. He hated his nickname as much as she loathed hers. “All right, but I beg you, keep it between us, never in front of others.”
“Agreed.” Obedience playfully flicked water at him and then dived away.
“Still so young,” Chance murmured, but he smiled too. He used the opportunity to return to shore and dress.
“You’re leaving already?” Obedience waded toward him.
“Yes. I returned at my father’s request. His health is declining, and he needs me.”
“Yes...I know.” She looked down at the water, her joy fading. “Tell him I will visit today and bring him strawberry jam. He loves my jam.” She smiled brightly again.
Chance nodded and finished dressing.
She waved as he turned up the path, dancing in the water like a playful sprite. Chance stopped above the waterfall and looked down at her. He still couldn’t believe his eyes. She was one and twenty now, if his memory served him right. It had been five years since he last set eyes on her. Five years since he had ventured back to Willowton Park, his ancestral home. Things had certainly changed, and it left him feeling...out of sorts.
He shook his head and continued up the path. He needed to focus on his father now, on preparations for his eventual passing. It was heartbreaking and a tedious task that would be almost impossible if Obedience were there distracting him, and distract him she would. That was also unsettling. He didn’t have time to be sidetracked by a woman, let alone a woman he shouldn’t be having such thoughts about. She had been a childhood friend and nothing more... So why couldn’t he stop picturing her in a wet shift?
Chapter 2
Chance returned to the manor and changed before making his way to his father’s room. When he arrived, Horace, his father’s valet, had him sitting up and was sliding on his robe.
“Here, Horace, let me help.” Chance rushed to the bedside.
“I should be attended to by women—pretty, busty women,” his father grumbled. “It’s humiliating to be waited on by one’s own son.”
“Some humility would be good for you, Father.” Chance smirked. “For too long now, you’ve terrorized the countryside and its inhabitants.”
“Oh, bah,” his father rumbled. “’Tis nice to see you too.” His eyes crinkled with a smile. “I need some grandchildren to soften me up.” He caught Chance’s eye and grinned.
Chance exhaled with an exaggerated sigh. “This again?”
His father chuckled as Chance and Horace moved him to his wheeled reclining chair. His father’s beard was growing thick and wild and almost white, but the old man was in good spirits.
“An interesting chair you have here.”
“Yes, well, it keeps me from being tied to the bed. I like to sit in the garden in the afternoons and feel the sun on my face. Will you join me?”
“Your every wish is my command, Father,” Chance said playfully.
“Don’t think I won’t hold you to that.”
“Shall we begin our adventure then?”
“Adventure? I’ve wrestled tigers in the jungles of India, boy. You’ve no idea how it feels for a man like me to be so restrained,” he said with disgust.
Chance just laughed and pushed his father down the hall to the stairs. With the aid of two footmen, they carried him down the stairs, and Chance pushed him out a side door into the refreshing air. They wandered toward the topiary garden, enjoying the warm afternoon sun.
His father was unusually quiet as they strolled through leafy figures of charging horses and chess pieces. Chance wanted to speak, to provide the easy banter that was his shield, but held his tongue. There was so much that needed to be said but so little time to say it. He didn’t want to fill it with meaningless words. As if his father could read his thoughts, he spoke.
“I want to see you married, Chance,” he said quietly.
“I know, Father.” They'd had this argument many times.
“Have you been looking for a wife?”
“I have spent many seasons in town, Father, but have yet to find a woman I could stand to spend my life with, let alone one you would tolerate.” An image of Obedience in her wet shift popped into his mind, and he thrust it away.
“Ha, the pickings are slim. I could see that when I was last in London. What
about that woman you spent many evenings with...Cranston’s daughter?”
“Lady Lillian, you mean?”
“Yes, her. She was beautiful and quite intelligent if I remember.”
“She married The Earl of Redwick. They are most likely expecting their first child by now.” Chance smiled fondly as he remembered how happy and in love they were when he last saw them.
“Really? You had no interest there?”
“No, Father. Lilly was a good friend, that’s all. I am very glad they found such happiness together.”
“I want to see you happy, my son.” His father’s milky blue eyes met his. “I want to see you settled before I can no longer be a part of your life. My time is waning.”
“Please don’t talk like that. We will find the best doctor in England. We won’t stop until we do.”
“It will make no difference, Chance. Please do this for me.”
They stopped before the image of Venus on the shell. Chance frowned. “I cannot summon a wife at will, Father. I wish I could. I’d give anything to do this for you. To see you hold your grandchild as you wish and know our line will continue, but I’m at a loss as to how I can do that for you. Time is the only thing I don’t have on my side.”
His father was silent as he stared down at his hands. “I want you to marry Obedience.”
“I beg your pardon?” Chance was stunned.
“She has been a great comfort to me. She is intelligent and beautiful.”
“Don't forget willful and rash,” Chance added.
“She will make a fine duchess and mother. She may not be a brainless twit like those London darlings with blood as blue as royalty, but I love her like she is my own.”
