by Abby Ayles
Copyright
Copyright © 2020 by Abby Ayles
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Table of Contents
Copyright
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Table of Contents
Caught in the Storm of a Duke’s Heart
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
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Epilogue
The Extended Epilogue
How to Train a Duke in the Ways of Love-Preview
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
A Message from Abby
About Starfall Publications
About Abby Ayles
Also by Abby Ayles
Caught in the Storm of a Duke’s Heart
Chapter 1
1816
Charleveaux Estate
Judith Brewen held her breath, counting her steps as she made her way to her father’s study.
She had waited a long time for this moment, building her courage and preparing herself for whatever would come of the conversation she wished to have with him.
She had never deceived herself into thinking it would be easy to convince her father to acquiesce to her request. Yet, she dared to hope. The least she could do was try.
Finally, she came to the doors of the study. They stood tall and proud, as they had for the past eighty years—long before even the dream of her birth came to life.
The wood shone still with the coat of varnish applied only a summer ago—just before her elder brother’s wedding. Not that anyone had ever tried, but it was apparent to anyone on seeing the stout oak doors that breaking through them doors would be near impossible.
They were strong, sturdy, just like the bricks and mortar holding the house together, and every other piece of furniture it contained. Her grandfather had been quite the practical man and that was mirrored in the elegant simplicity of the architecture, décor, and furnishings of the manor she called home.
Taking her mind away from the aged beauty of the doors, Judith concentrated instead on her reason for standing there before them that evening.
It was the perfect time: The sun was starting to set, and her father would be weary from his day’s work. She hoped, for this reason, he would not have it in him to give much resistance.
Releasing the breath she hardly realized she was holding, she balled her hand into a fist and raised it up to knock.
She gave three short, loud raps.
A moment later, a familiar voice called from inside the room.
“Who is it?”
She swallowed, wetting her throat before answering. “It is I, Father. May I come in?”
“Is anything the matter?” her father, Baron Davenforth, inquired.
She was quick to answer. “Oh, not at all, Father. I simply wish to speak with you concerning a matter, is all.”
There was a moment of silence, and she waited patiently, praying he would let her in.
When his response came, she sighed in relief.
“You may enter, Judith.”
With his permission, she opened the doors and stepped into the large room. It was one of the biggest in the house and rightly so.
The study had belonged to her father’s father, but when he passed away, leaving his first son to inherit all, her father had made it his own.
There were ten shelves reaching up to the roof, all filled with books, on the wall facing the doors. It made the place look like a small library. There were also sofas arranged about the left side of the room.
This was where her father received his guests.
The walls of the study were paneled with wood, with a polished wooden floor, whose old boards creaked slightly when walked upon. There were four large windows, affording the whole room a brightly lit aspect.
However, her father mostly preferred the curtains drawn, making the room appear perpetually dim, especially when the sun began to set—as it was just about to do that very moment.
Ranged about the other walls were an ornate pendulum clock far older than her, and paintings of her grandfather, father, and brother; three generations of great men.
Then, there was his desk, dark and massive, dominating that part of the study—and behind it Father, ensconced in his large leather chair—with two less comfortable one set out for guests in front.
A globe sat on the left side of the desk and next to it were stacks of journals and ledgers.
Her father looked up from the file he was assessing as she neared his desk. When she reached him, he removed his spectacles and placed them aside.
The Baron had seven and fifty summers behind him. His blond hair had started to turn gray, further bringing out the green of his eyes.
He was a tall man, at six feet three, easily towering above Judith. Though his age was starting to tell, he remained agile, with sharp senses, quick movements, and a bright mind.
His beard reached up to his ears, stopping just beneath his lobes. A thick moustache sat beneath his long nose. His broad shoulders stood proud as always.
Judith’s lips curved into a smile as she appraised him. Her mother thought him the most handsome man she had ever seen. It had never been hard for Judith to see why.
Her father was easy on the eyes, as was her brother, who looked just like him.
She too had taken some of her father’s features. His green eyes and blond hair; but her hair fell in tumultuous waves, reaching her lower back.
Her nose was her mother’s, small, just perfect for her oval-shaped face. Her lips were small, too, and a natural crimson. It was a feature many women admired on her—and others envied.
Spine straight, shoulders square, and chin raised, she stood before him. Her skin was, in her mother’s words, “Like silk and milk mixed together. So beautiful
, so smooth.”
That evening, she wore her day dress still; a simple coral-colored gown, caught beneath her breast by a satin ribbon, before flowing gently out to frame her hips and legs.
She was aware that her own looks had also been the source of some admiration within her limited social circle, although she was more prone to laugh and dismiss the idea as nonsense than ever let it go to her head.
Knowing she now had her father’s attention, Judith dipped into a curtsy and rose, gracefully.
“I apologize for interrupting, Father. I know you must be busy.”
Her father waved away her remark.
“This is the only record I have left to assess. You came at the right time.”
His words made her smile. Mentally, she commended herself: It was just as she had hoped.
“Tell me, what do you wish to discuss with me?” he asked, gesturing at one of the chairs.
She took a seat, while her father’s eyes remained on her, expectant.
Judith held his gaze, trying to recall the words she had repeated over and over to herself, preparing for this day.
As she groped for the first few words, she opened her mouth to speak but nothing came. She shook her head as her lips closed shut.
Her nerves were threatening to engulf her.
“Judith?”
“Yes, Father.”
“You said there was something of importance.”
“Yes, there was… There is.”
“Then by all means, tell me what it is.”
She searched his eyes and saw nothing but compassion. It reminded her that her father was a wonderful man, who had only ever loved her, and the thought calmed her a little.
This time, when she spoke, the words came easily.
“Father, I have an enormous request to make.”
His brow raised, and he relaxed back into in his chair.
“I hope I will not have to ask you again what it is. Come on now, get on with it.”
Heart hammering in her chest, she blurted, “Father, I wish to go to the North of England to spend some time with Aunty Tia. I know you will be inclined to refuse, but Father, you must let me go.”
“And why is that?” he asked, his voice betraying surprise.
“Because I must. I must leave this house. I have been here my whole life. I want to go out there and—” She gestured widely with her arm toward the world beyond the windows. “I want to see the world! You, Mother, Edward, and Theresa … you have all had your adventures, seen amazing things, and have stories to tell. Edward is a scholar, Mother is an art genius, and Theresa’s voice causes the whole of England, the whole world, to simply stand still and listen when she sings. And you, Father? You are the best businessman in England and beyond.”
She stopped to catch her breath, pausing to remind herself to remain calm, lest her voice rise unbecomingly.
“Don’t you see, Father? Everyone has something. Everyone is someone. I am simply the last child of Baron Davenforth. Perhaps, if I were allowed freedom to roam, I, too, would discover myself ... find something inside me to make me someone other than who I presently am. I truly want this, Father. You would not deny it to me, would you?”
Her voice cracked as she said those last words, and she felt her eyes sting with the promise of tears. Desperately, she blinked, pushing them away.
She had not come here to grovel or cry. It would not do to get overly emotional with her father.
“Judith…” her father said after a while, his voice laced with emotion; emotion she could not quite decipher. “I had no inkling you felt this way. I always thought you were happy …content … I made certain you lacked nothing. Not even affection.”
“On that part, you are right, Father, and I shall always be grateful to you and Mother for raising me so well. However, I am afraid it’s not enough. I want more for myself.”
Her father released a sigh—one tinged with resignation: It gave Judith hope.
“I see. And the only way you shall have that is by travelling halfway across the country to see your aunt?”
Judith nodded. “I have thought long and hard about this, Father. Something keeps telling me that somehow, my true destiny awaits me there. I shall only be gone for a while. Once I have learned who I really am, the things I’m capable of, I shall return. And I shall return a better person.”
“Judith, what you ask of me is … it would take four days to get to Northern England. Your brother, Edward cannot take you, I’m afraid. His wife is heavy with child, and he will not be away from her, not when her time is almost upon us. I cannot take you either. Certainly not your mother. Theresa, as you know, is touring the world with her music. You are but a young, untraveled lady, Judith, and it is such a long journey. I am afraid I cannot let you go on your own. I cannot let you go at all.”
Her heart began to break as her hopes crashed.
“No! Father, Please! I shall take a carriage and the coachman will be by my side until the end of the journey. You see, I shall not be alone.”
“The coachman does not count as a chaperone, Judith.”
Her heart broke into further pieces.
This time when the tears came, they filled her eyes, threatening to spill over; she fought harder to keep them at bay. Her mind scrambled for a way to combat her father’s insistence: She came up short.
Realizing defeat had come too easily, one tear broke free. She closed her eyes as it rolled down her face, her pain reaching into the very depths of her being.
“Father … I…” she swallowed and continued. “I promise I shall return to you safe and sound. Just let me go, please!”
She would not surrender so easily. She could not.
Her father looked away. She could tell this was not easy for him either and he believed he was simply protecting her.
“I am sorry, Judith. You shall have to forgive me. Anything else, I would grant you, but not this. You may take your leave now. This conversation is over.”
There was a tone of finality in his voice that made her understand he would not discuss the subject further.
Sighing, Judith rose to her feet and dipped in a curtsy. She remained that way for a long moment, holding on to hope that her father might still change his mind.
But all she got was a clearing of his throat, followed by silence. So, she rose again, and said, “Thank you, Father.”
With these words, she turned around and left the study.
She found her way to her chamber, grateful not to have run into anyone who would ask about her tears.
As soon as she entered her chamber, she closed the door behind her and ran to her bed, where she fell in a heap of tears.
Her mind raged: It isn’t in any way right for me to be forced to live this way for the rest of my life—fated to remain captive in this manor, until Father finds a suitor he approves of, and marries me off!
Then I’ll have to live in my husband’s home, never leaving, never seeing more of the world than beyond this tedious domestic sphere I’ve known all my life. My life is simply going to unravel in this way, uneventful, plain, boring, and then I shall die an ordinary old lady, with no exciting stories to tell my children or grandchildren.
Merely thinking about it was enough to make her head hurt. The stars had vanished from her sky, along with the sun and the moon. In her small world, there was no light: Only darkness.
After a while, she ceased her weeping and dried her eyes. Then, she sat up in her bed and looked around, her mind casting about for a solution to her problem.
It isn’t over, she told herself. You knew it would not be easy, so why be so downcast after the first try? If you want this change badly enough, you will keep asking until Father finally agrees.
There suddenly came a knock on the door, followed by a familiar, soft voice.
“My Lady, it is I, Amy.”
Chapter 2
Judith looked up at the clock that hung on the wall opposite her bed. It told her it was almost time for dinne
r.
That explained why Amy Mitchell, her lady’s maid was at her door.
“You may enter, Amy.”
The door opened and a tall, slender woman entered. Amy was two years older than Judith and had been her maid since they were children.
Amy dropped a shallow curtsy as she reached Judith’s bed.
“My Lady, I have come to help you dress for dinner.”
Judith nodded. “Get me a bowl of water and a towel, please. I shall need to clean my face.”
Amy obeyed without question. When she returned, Judith proceeded to hide the evidence of her tears.
As she did, she felt Amy watching her closely.
“Have you been crying, my Lady?” Amy asked, taking the bowl and towel when Judith had finished with them.
