The Duke Is a Devil

by Karen Lingefelt

  “I do believe you’ve put him in enough pain for now, my dear. I daresay I could not have done better. Or have predicted that you would do this.” Dane tossed the piece to one side with another smash as he scorched his uncle with a blazing glare. “I know what your son did, Willard, and what you did not do. You will never return to the dower house at Bradbury Park, or Bradbury Park itself, or Bradbury House in Mayfair, or any of my other holdings. As of this moment, you are evicted and cut off. You and Harry will be banished from society. Save your breath asking the obvious but ludicrous questions. I don’t care what you do, or where you should go. Those are questions for you to answer. If you can’t, I’m not your man of affairs. Be forever grateful that you suffer nothing worse for your otherwise unforgivable and unjustified treatment of Miss Logan.”

  Willard only whimpered in response. Harry suddenly appeared in the arched entrance to the hallway, stopped short upon seeing Dane, likewise whimpered, then turned tail and ran back down the darkened passage, calling for Cordelia.

  Cecily couldn’t hold back any longer. Tears streamed down her cheeks, though she didn’t know if they were tears of relief, or shame, or—

  Dane slid his arms around her and held her close. “’Tis all right now, sweetling,” he whispered. “I knew you could do what you did because as I said before, I believe in you.”

  She looked up at him through a blur of tears, sniffling as her heart slowly drifted upward. “That means as much to me, if not more, than saying that you love me. And oddly enough, that is why I love you, Dane.”

  Oh, it felt so good to say the words her mother and aunt had warned her never to say! But instead of laughing at her or running away at those words, he smiled tenderly, cupping her wet cheeks in his palms as he kissed her lightly and wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “I love you, too, Cecily.”

  They descended the staircase for what Cecily devoutly hoped would be the last time ever. The butler stood waiting at the front door, but Dane insisted on taking a slight detour to the drawing room. “My lady?” he addressed Thea. “I presume you’ve heard everything?”

  Cecily glimpsed Thea seated next to the fireplace, brandy decanter in hand. No, not snifter. Decanter.

  Dane was right, she thought. Everyone was behaving unpredictably this evening.

  Thea sighed forlornly. “I suppose we shall have to reside here for the time being with Marianne and her husband. And his sister. And mother.” She raised the decanter to her lips. “I don’t suppose my brother would take me in?”

  “Frampton? I’m sure he’d welcome you, Thea, but not your husband and son.”

  She shifted her reddened gaze to her niece. “Honoria left you in my care, Cecily, but I already had two daughters, and Harry was always such a handful, and you seemed to prefer living in a world of your own making, and Willard always threatened me with—”

  “Never mind, Aunt Thea,” Cecily cut in. “I understand. You’re the innocent, helpless victim. I refuse to be one anymore. Farewell.”

  Rebecca sprang from the sofa where she’d been sitting with Mr. Eastman all this time. “What about me? Don’t I get to marry Mr. Eastman? I’m one and twenty since last Tuesday.”

  “Then you shall marry him if you wish,” Dane assured her. “A special license will be my wedding gift to you both. Come see me on the morrow.”

  Amid their thanks, Dane and Cecily stepped out of the drawing room and back into the front hall. She sighed in relief. “I suppose that ties up all the loose ends? Just like a novel.”

  He scooped up what appeared to be a wet oilskin cape from the floor next to the door and draped it around her shoulders. “Not quite yet, my dear. We still have to get back to Bradbury House before midnight. It seems a great many people, to include Prinny, have wagered that you will jilt me before the clock strikes twelve. But I mean to be the only man who wins tonight.”

  She furrowed her brow. “You wagered, too?”

  He smiled back. “Not at all. Indeed, I’ve already won.”

  Elation swirled around her even as she glanced at the long case clock opposite the staircase. “We barely have twenty minutes. It took us almost an hour to get here earlier. As it is, I wonder how you...?” She gazed up at him questioningly.

  “How I got here before you?”

  Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened.

  “I’ll never stop saying this, but I love it when your eyes do that,” he said, smiling. “I arrived here ahead of you and the others because I ran on my two long legs. Thank God it’s stopped raining for now. We can make it back on foot and arrive just in time...that is, if you’re sure you can do it in your slippers, and everything that’s happened to your feet since all of this started?”

  A thrill swept through Cecily as her heart rose to the challenge. “What are we standing here for? Let’s go!”

  So it was that Dane and Cecily returned to Bradbury House on foot. They didn’t run, but she gladly and easily kept up with his long, swift strides in spite of the heavy oilskin cape. Raindrops fell intermittently in a light drizzle, and they finally reached his front door. Evie stood in the center of the front hall, and she nearly leaped for joy at the sight of them.

  “You’re just in time!” she exclaimed. “But that’s only if neither of you change. You both look dreadfully bedraggled.”

  “Then I daresay we’re well matched,” Dane replied, as he divested Cecily of the cumbersome cape. “Do you still have the parcel that arrived this evening?”

  “I haven’t let go of it since you charged me with its safekeeping.” Evie handed him the small, rectangular parcel. “Everyone in that ballroom is dying to read it. I shall return there now.”

  Smiling, Dane presented the parcel to Cecily with a flourish. “Behold.”

  Bewildered, Cecily removed the wrapping to reveal a slim book beautifully bound in deep blue leather.

  “I suppose one can have it bound in any color one chooses,” said Dane, “but I chose this shade of blue because I thought it matched your eyes. And it does. No more so than now.”

  Cecily gazed in awe at the gold-embossed letters on the cover. The Duke Is a Devil.

  By The Lady He Loves.

  She was published.

  And despite all of her earlier misgivings, now that she was...she liked it.

  But more importantly, she was loved by the man who stood before her now, his blond hair, spangled with raindrops, now hanging as limply as her own.

  Cecily and Dane were the perfect match.

  “Oh, Dane,” she whispered tremulously, riffling through the pages to see her own words—in print! “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything more beautiful than this.”

  “I have,” he said, “and I’m going to marry her and see her write many more books.”

  “Then marry me,” she said, her eyes brimming with tears of joy. “You needn’t get down on bended knee and ask. Just marry me.”

  He smiled, his own eyes shining, almost sparkling in the blaze of candlelight. “I will. And I won’t ask why, because I finally know.”

  The lady he loved kissed him back. “I love you, Dane,” she said. “I only wish I could have said it long before tonight. I was so afraid you might laugh at me for saying it, or worse. And I know now it’s because I listened to others who said you would.”

  “You need never mind them again,” he assured her, with a glance at the hall clock. “Should we present ourselves as we are? We have less than two minutes.”

  “Then why are we just standing here—again? Let’s go! Upstairs to the gallery and thence to the balcony, as originally planned.”

  They rushed up the staircase, Cecily’s hand holding Dane’s while the other clutched her book. They reached the double doors leading to the balcony just as the clock began to strike.

  “Open!” Dane ordered the waiting footmen.

  The doors swung open wide, and Dane and Cecily, hand in hand, emerged onto the balcony to astonished, uproarious cheers and applause from the ballroom below.


  Cecily swept her gaze over the ocean of guests. At the opposite end she glimpsed Lord and Lady Frampton flanked on one side by Evie and Gareth, with Ross and Tabitha on the other. Next to Evie stood a tall, willowy blonde Cecily recognized as Cassandra Frey, who blew a kiss to her and Dane.

  And next to Cassandra stood a corpulent, middle-aged man who—could it be?

  Still in possession of the ducal powers that enabled him to read her mind, Dane said, “That’s the Regent you see next to Mrs. Frey.”

  Cecily almost hugged her book against her thundering heart, except she didn’t want to get it wet.

  Dane waited until after the clock struck the twelfth and final time before raising his hand, and the ballroom fell somewhat silent, though the mystified murmurs continued.

  “Good evening, Your Royal Highness,” Dane called out. “Ladies and gentlemen. We stepped out for a bit of fresh air, lost track of the time, got a bit drenched, but then this is England. May I present to you my bride, Miss Cecily Logan, who is also...” He glanced at her and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Shall I tell them?”

  “They’ll find out in any event,” she replied. “Tell them!”

  Dane turned back to the guests. “She is also a very gifted writer. I am very proud of her for being the author of a new book about a certain duke who finally discovered his one and only true love.”

  Smiling in delight, Cecily held up the book. “I would beg all of you to forget the broadside that’s been circulating about Town. He did not ruin me or any other lady. He has saved me many times. The Duke of Bradbury loves me.” She cast him a loving glance through misty eyes. “And I love him.”

  Everyone cheered—except for the handful who’d wagered against this moment.

  Dane murmured in her ear, “Now that we’ve observed the formalities and Prinny looks too foxed to mind, what say we change out of these sodden clothes before we catch our death of cold?”

  Cecily knew he had more than that in mind, and she couldn’t wait. Still smiling, her heart singing with joy, she flipped to the back of the book to find the closing words she’d written and knew by heart.

  Those words were there. Her own words. In print.

  The duke was no longer a devil to me. He was a dream, my dream. He was my true love forever.

  About the Author

  Author of historical romance and light paranormal, Karen Lingefelt probably dreamed of being a writer while still in the womb. As a preschooler, she scribbled with crayons in picture books to put her own spin on the text. In school, she sat at her desk defiantly writing stories when she should’ve been working on her remedial math assignments. Later she joined the Air Force and when she wasn’t traveling overseas, she spent her off-duty hours banging out epic sagas on a portable typewriter. Even after leaving the service to become a stay-at-home mom, she still eked out the time to continue pursuing her lifelong dream.

  Karen now lives in Florida with her family. For more information about her books, please visit her website: http://www.karenlingefelt.com

  Books by Karen Lingefelt

  True Pretenses

  Playing the Duchess

  Bride in Hiding

  Confessions of a Lady Ruined

  The Truth About Georgiana

  Pride and Promises

  Wagered to the Duke

  The Duke’s Foolish Heart

  Playing the Countess

  To Catch an Earl

  The Highwayman’s Lady

  Because He’s a Duke

  Heart of Gold

  The Earl and I

  The Duke and Miss Jones

  Much Ado About Charlotte

  Playing the Princess

  All About Evangeline

  The Duke Is a Devil

  Dust a Bit of Magic (light paranormal novella)