Captive to the Kiss of a Wicked Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Scarlett Osborne

  Meredith didn’t want this to ever stop and yet, as he continued, she felt that familiar pressure. It began in her legs, as usual, but then spread throughout her body. The force of it mounted within her and she tried to tell him what was about to happen. The words came out as garbled mess. All she could do was close her eyes, begging silently for him to never stop. For him to keep going until she exploded.

  And explode she did—right alongside him.

  Heath grunted loudly in her ear as his entire body shook. Meredith couldn’t speak, her throat closing up as she clung to him, the force of her release too intense to behold. For those few seconds, they only held onto each other, in a world that was entirely their own.

  “How do you feel?” Heath asked her after a moment.

  Meredith hardly had the strength to speak. “I…I…”

  He chuckled, lying to her side and pulling her into him. “Give yourself some time.”

  She did, and then she said, “I feel wonderful. I can’t believe…that was what you had been resisting all this time?”

  “You understand what you do to me now?”

  She nodded against his chest. She never wanted him to let her go. “I do because you do the same. God, I love you, Heath.”

  “I will never tire of hearing that,” he sighed, stroking her hair.

  “Neither will I,” Meredith mumbled expectantly.

  His chuckle shook her body. He kissed her on the forehead. “I love you too, Meredith. With all my heart.”

  Meredith smiled—and she knew that smile would be there for the rest of the day. Because the love and happiness she felt with this man was more than she could have ever imagined. And she did not plan on letting it go.

  The End?

  Extended Epilogue

  Eager to know more on how Meredith and Heath’s relationship evolved? Then enjoy this free complimentary short story featuring the beloved couple!

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  But before you go, turn the page for an extra sweet treat from me…

  Preview: A Guide to the Bed of her Lord

  Chapter 1

  Georgiana Spencer leaned back in the carriage, closing her eyes as she folded her Aunt Mae’s letter. It was a reply to one in which she had lamented to her mother’s sister at length about having to come to London for the Season. Her dearly beloved younger sister, Ester, was to come out, which was a momentous and happy event. However, being in London brought back some of Georgiana’s worst memories.

  She turned her head to the side, brushing aside a rebel tendril of auburn hair that insisted on falling over her face no matter how tightly she knotted her hair. Her head was throbbing from the anxiety of going out in society as well as how severely her lady’s maid had pulled back her hair. It tended to break out in curls given the slightest leeway and Lucy tended not to give it any.

  “Will I see the Prince Regent when I am presented at court?”

  “Of course you will, darling. That’s the whole point of coming out.”

  Ester sighed excitedly. “I can hardly wait, Mama.”

  “I know, Dear. Me too.”

  Georgiana could hear the smile in her mother’s voice. The Duchess of Frashire dearly loved all the bells and whistles that came with the Season. She also wanted her children to make good matches by fully participating in the marriage mart.

  Although they shared a similar physical appearance, Georgiana often thought that she could not be more different from her mother. The same green eyes might adorn both their faces, but they looked at the world in vastly different ways. They might sport the same fiery hair, but their tempers were nothing alike.

  Georgiana did her best not to furrow her brow. It wasn’t her place to sully her sister’s coming-out experience. Just because her own had ended in disaster did not mean she had the right to spoil Ester’s Season.

  “Georgie?” her sister’s voice was tentative and unsure. Georgiana opened her eyes slowly and smiled as genuinely as she could.

  “Yes, Ester?”

  “Are you all right? You look angry.”

  Georgiana straightened up and tried to relax her face. “I’m fine. Just…tired. I suppose I haven’t been sleeping too well since we arrived here.” She smiled reassuringly at her sister. “I guess I haven’t gotten used to the noise of London yet.”

  Ester frowned worriedly. “It’s been three days since we arrived.”

  “I guess my old bones take longer to adjust.” Georgiana grinned, trying to divert her.

  Ester seemed unsure but smiled back nevertheless. “You’re not that old.”

  Georgiana clapped her on the arm mock-pouting at her. “That was a jest!”

  “Oh! Of course, I knew that.”

  Georgiana rolled her eyes and sighed, exchanging looks with her mother. Ester was a good-hearted girl but not very quick on the uptake. She leaned back and closed her eyes again. They’d just left there, but she already could not wait to go back home so that Lucy could unknot her hair and brush it with a hundred strokes. It was always so soothing. For the duration of her ministrations she could forget her troubles; she could forget everything.

  “Mother, we’re stopping at Madame Devy’s first thing are we not?” Ester asked.

  “Of course, Dear, we’ll go right away.”

  Georgiana suppressed a sigh. “I don’t see why I had to come. Wouldn’t it have been better if I stayed home?”

  “No! You have to have a new gown as well!” Ester protested.

  I don’t want a new gown.

  Georgiana opened her eyes and looked at her sister. “I have plenty of gowns and it’s you who is getting presented.”

  Ester’s robin-egg blue eyes widened anxiously in her beautiful face as she leaned forward and squeezed Georgiana’s hand. “But I need you there with me. You are planning to come aren’t you?”

  “Of course, Darling! I shall be there.” Georgiana winced inwardly, trying not to think of being back at the palace. The Beau Monde would probably turn out in force and she knew that they still whispered about her. She was a cautionary tale for all the new debutantes. A bed-time story that ladies had their governesses tell their children to let them know the dangers of choosing the wrong man.

  She turned away so that her sister couldn’t see the despair on her face or see the lone tear that rolled down her face. Her mother’s warm hand ghosted over hers before squeezing it hard. She turned and gave her a grateful smile before looking out of the window again in resignation.

  There is nothing to be done but endure this.

  They arrived at the seamstress not ten minutes later and Georgiana alighted as slowly as possible, wishing she had her hair down so she could hide behind it. She could already hear some hissing nearby, no doubt someone alerting her friends to the arrival of the plague in their midst.

  Ester and her mother came around from the other side of the carriage and grabbed her hands pulling her into Madame Devy’s sandwiched between them. She barely caught a glimpse of the parasols held by the ladies whispering about her on the street before she was enveloped by the cool darkness of the seamstress’ shop.

  Madame Devy herself came forward to greet them and soon Ester, their mother, and the seamstress were twittering away in excitement. Georgiana leaned against a green bolt of cloth, tuning them out. She had no interest in a new gown or the latest styles. She just wanted this to be over as quickly as possible.

  Being back in London after all this time caused a burning sensation in her chest. She almost felt as if she was back at the altar of St. George’s Church, awaiting her affianced. She had been smiling so wide, suffused with happiness.

  And just as the priest asked, “Let anyone with an objection speak up now or forever hold their peace,” there she was. Long, flowing blonde hair, robin-egg blue eyes, flushed cheeks, pouty lips. She was the very caricature of an Engli
sh Rose.

  Her protruding belly shattered the illusion though, as did the words she shouted at Wernbrook.

  His baby in her belly.

  She was disgraced, humiliated, and embarrassed. She’d ran out of the church, tears pouring down her face and climbed into the carriage that was supposed to take her away for her honeymoon. Instead, she asked the coachman to just drive and keep going until she told him to stop. She was forever grateful that the coachman had done as she said. Technically, he was the Marquess’ coachman and would have been within his rights to refuse.

  Georgiana supposed her distress had been enough to sway him.

  Two years and it still feels like yesterday.

  She was not one to dwell on the past but that had been one memory she had extreme difficulty getting past. All the ladies who had laughed at her, the gentlemen who had known of Lord Wernbrook’s illicit affair, they all participated in her disgrace. Now she had to face them all again.

  If it wasn’t for poor innocent Ester, there is no way I would do this.

  Ester had been a mere five-and-ten years old when Georgiana had her coming out. The whirlwind romance with Ambrose Powell, the Marquess of Wernbrook, had ended up at the altar before Ester could come down to London.

  She knew something awful had happened but she didn’t really know the details. Every time she asked, their mother would divert her attention or Georgiana would change the subject.

  There’s no need for her to know any of it.

  Georgiana hadn’t wanted to stop her sister’s anticipation or excitement about her coming out. It would not have been fair.

  “Georgie!”

  She looked up to see Ester holding a bolt of cloth against her body, bright eyes looking for Georgiana’s approval. She smiled as well as she could. “It looks lovely against your skin. That shade of gold really does compliment you.”

  Ester smiled wide and happy. “Thank you, Sister.” She turned to Madame Devy, “I’ll take this one.”

  Georgiana smiled more genuinely at her sister’s excitement, thinking back to her own naïve anticipation when she’d come out. Lord Wernbrook, had swept her off her feet so fast, accosting her at her first ball where she’d been feeling rather gauche, the country cousin, not really knowing anyone. In spite of her father’s extensive business interests, Georgiana and her sister had grown up mostly in their country seat, rarely coming into the city and not staying very long when they did.

  He had paid her a flattering amount of attention, going so far as to book two dances on her card. It was a declaration and she didn’t know how she had gotten so fortunate as to attract a gentleman’s attention so fast. Her heart had fluttered with joy and triumph that she would not end up a spinster. Oh no, she’d snapped up a husband right away.

  Without even trying!

  Lord Wernbrook had definitely had her building castles in the air. He seemed attentive and enamored, presenting himself at the house every afternoon to escort her for a walk or a carriage ride in Hyde Park depending on the weather. He took her to Gunter’s for ice and escorted her to balls and to plays at Convent Garden.

  It was everything she expected of a courtship and when he’d formally asked for her hand, she had not even thought of refusing. In fact, she might have felt a bit smug at how easily she had snagged herself a husband when those ladies who had turned up their noses at her were still searching.

  “I don’t want to wait, my Darling,” he had said as he stole kisses from her under the cover of the trees at Hyde Park. “Let’s get married right away.”

  Her heart had almost burst with joy at his words. She wanted their marriage to work. She dreamed of their future with starry eyes. She hadn’t expected to marry for love and so to have this tall, handsome, square-jawed, golden-haired, blue-eyed gentleman turn his attention on her was so far beyond her dreams coming true. The Marquess of Wernbrook was everything a lady could want and he was all hers!

  As a cherry on the cake, her mother was so proud of her. Georgiana could not recall another time that her mother had seemed more pleased. She knew that making a good marriage was important to her mother but the reality of it was really driven home to her when she saw the enthusiasm with which her mother threw herself into the wedding plans.

  It was doubly crushing to not only have been embarrassed at the altar but also to have let her mother down so monumentally. It wasn’t just the embarrassment though. Georgiana lost all faith in her judgment. She had fancied that Lord Wernbrook loved her and was completely blindsided by the existence of a mistress. She absolutely had not seen any of it coming. Honestly she’d never felt so stupid in her life.

  She had gone to ground at Frashire Manor to lick her wounds in peace. Except that her mother was there worrying at her, urging her to get back on the horse as fast as possible. Georgiana loved her mother, but she had never wanted to be farther away from her.

  The first letter from Aunt Mae had come like an answer from heaven. It was not so much what her aunt said but what she didn’t. She didn’t speak about how terrible it must be for Georgiana or offer any platitudes. Instead she spoke of her life in Scotland with the laird she was married to. She opened Georgiana’s eyes to the mystery and magic of Scotland, telling her of the people’s belief in fairies and changelings and other supernatural beings.

  It’s all very superstitious, but entertaining nonetheless.

  For the duration of the letter, Georgiana found escape from the misery that was her life. She wrote back promptly, asking questions and complimenting her aunt on her vivid descriptions. Aunt Mae wrote back and before she knew it, they had a regular correspondence. She made Scotland sound like quite an attractive place and extended an open invitation to visit, should England get to be too much.

  Maybe after Ester’s coming out, I shall go.

  The thought heartened her and she straightened up, paying more attention to the shopping. She noted the entrance of three society ladies into the shop and how they stood huddled together, whispering. She tried not to shrink into herself at their presence but it was difficult. Even if she knew that it was unlikely that everyone was talking about her behind their backs, she still could not shake the feeling that they were.

  “Mama, can we leave now?” she came close behind her parent and whispered in her ear.

  “In a minute, Darling,” her mother was distracted by something Madame Devy was saying about fabrics. Georgiana sighed, wandering toward the door and then venturing outside for some relatively fresh air. It was still early summer and so the humidity was not so ripe and putrid. She breathed in, ignoring the passersby and focusing on enjoying her day.

  Someone jostled her from the right and she made a startled sound as a steel band caught hold of her arm and prevented her from falling.

  “Apologies Miss. Are you all right?” she looked up and met a pair of concerned hazel eyes and blinked in surprise.

  “Um, yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”

  He let go of her arm and stepped away with a bow before walking away. She gawped at the chestnut-haired man with the neatly trimmed beard–so unusual to see in these clean-shaven days–as he walked away, before shaking her head and heading back into the shop.

  “Oh, there you are Georgiana. We were just discussing some suitable gowns for you. How do you feel about red?” her mother asked.

  Georgiana sighed. “Red sounds lovely, Mother. Let’s go with that.”

  She really didn’t care and any color would do. So why not red?

  “Wonderful!” Ester smiled happily, “It’ll complement my gold gown and we shall look quite fetching together. I feel sure we will both find spouses before the night is done.”

  Realization dawned on Georgiana and she flushed with embarrassment. Her sister was not only trying to make Georgiana feel included, she was also trying to help her find a husband.

  How mortifying.

  Georgiana looked away, swallowing the harsh words that wanted to spew forth like poison. She knew that Ester meant well but nobody
had asked her to do this. Georgiana was quite sure she would much rather join a convent than go through another failed courtship. Ester was probably worried about being able to marry if her older sister was not, but Georgiana had already decided that she would take up her aunt’s invitation and travel to Scotland if it came to that.

  Last season, her mother had dragged her to London yet again for the Season and she had noted the Marquess of Dargue’s interest in courting her. His blonde hair and devil-may-care attitude reminded her too much of the Marquess of Wernbrook and she’d shut him down as fast as possible. She’d removed to the country not soon after, hoping that he would forget about her.

  To her surprise, he’d persisted, writing her letters and promising that he would be honest and trustworthy and worthy of her love. She’d found his letters to be insincere and over the top and deigned to ignore them. In her next letter to her aunt, she described his courtship such as it was and was heartened when she agreed with Georgiana about the false note she found them to contain.

  Why can’t they just leave me alone?

  Chapter 2

  Hamish Shaw, Viscount of Newenham, came up to the foredeck from his berth to watch the sunrise. They were just coming in to dock as the day broke and it was his first sign of London in almost five years. He was eager to lay eyes on his father’s homeland once again even though his reason for coming back was somewhat poignant.

  It was his mother’s death that sent him away, seeking solace in traveling through the Far East and visiting her homeland of India. He had brought the news of her death to his uncles and met kin he otherwise would never have known. The adventure of it all quieted his mind and provided an escape from grief.