A Fiery Love for the Reluctant Duchess: A Clean & Sweet Regency Historical Romance
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Copyright
Copyright © 2019 by Fanny Finch
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Copyright
A Fiery Love for the Reluctant Duchess
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
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Epilogue
The Extended Epilogue
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Also by Fanny Finch
A Fiery Love for the Reluctant Duchess
Chapter 1
“Bye, Papa. Be safe!” Thea Caulfield called after her father, having given him a soft kiss on the cheek as his farewell. He was on his way to a meeting that he was certain would prove fruitful. The morning was cool, and a slight breeze wafted through the door as her father exited.
Thea watched him go, aware that he was always hoping for fruitful meetings, always doing his best to trade with the wealthy, with the nobility. As a merchant, a man without a title, he had to work harder for his reputation, but Thea was proud of him for having done so well for himself. He had truly proven his mettle and was constantly making his way up.
For a merchant, he was surprisingly respected in the community and had a good name for providing quality materials. Additionally, he sold them at a price that managed to show the quality without that stench of thievery that wreaked upon the wares of so many merchants out there. Of course, those merchants were desperate to sell products for more than they were worth.
But still, despite his reputation, their home showed little of his hard work. They were making it well enough but remained people of no large wealth, and yet, Thea was proud of him and proud to know that she would always be at home to care for him.
“Did Papa leave already?” her sister Delia asked, coming up behind her.
“Yes,” Thea replied with a hopeful sigh.
“I didn’t have a chance to wish him luck,” Delia complained.
“He knows. He knows we are all hoping for his success today,” Thea reminded her. “He doesn’t have to hear it to know it is true.”
“Still. I would have liked to kiss him on the cheek and give him a hug,” Delia said.
In reply, Thea put her own arm around her sister’s shoulders. Delia was only two years younger than Thea, with hopes and dreams of her own. The two were fairly close, but Thea knew that Delia’s goals would take her away from them all.
“Any news from the man you had written to about finding work as a governess?” Thea asked as she heard the sound of Georgette complaining at their mother for telling her that it was time to start her lessons.
“Not yet. Perhaps I should write to another? I truly thought that by now he would have found me a position. If I cannot teach, then what am I to do with my life?” Delia asked, the notes of sadness in her voice seeming desperate.
Thea gave her a wan smile. “You could always stay here with me and find work nearby and look after Papa,” she reminded her.
“I shall leave that to you and Μother,” Delia replied with a gentle warning in her voice.
“I know. But the little ones. You could teach them,” Thea added, referencing their three youngest siblings.
“Really, now, Thea! Mother teaches Georgette as she taught you and I. And the boys are at their boarding school in Brighton. Who exactly am I to teach?” Delia prodded defensively.
Thea gave up, knowing the argument was of no use. “I suppose you are right…”
Delia turned to her, reflecting the same green eyes and similar nose, but with a far lighter shade of brown in her hair and a smaller mouth. It was clear that the two were sisters.
“Georgette and Christopher are nearly sixteen. While he is off and away at school, Georgette has you and I to show her what is possible with her life. Do you not wish for more than simply staying at home, being a burden on Mother and Father until Papa is no more and Thomas has to take us in?
“He is nearly finished with his schooling and fancies himself to be more than a merchant’s son. Even if he does become a tradesman, does that mean he can support all of us?” Delia asked sensibly.
“You know I’m right. Father does not need three of us and Μother to take care of him here in this home when he is old. And Georgette has the same prospects for marriage that you and I have, seeing as how we have no single male relatives of an appropriate age.
“So she can stay here hoping to be useful along with you and Μother or she can consider that perhaps she can work and provide for herself.”
Thea was quiet. She knew that Delia was right. Thomas, a year younger than Delia, was on his way to university within the year. Most likely, Christopher would not be able to attend unless the family’s fortunes took a turn for the better. And unless the girls somehow managed to find husbands, the possibility of becoming burdens to their brothers was looking more and more likely.
“I suppose you are right. But it does not mean that I should like to consider it. Can you not teach somewhere closer? Why must you go all the way to London? It is such a… such an awful place! Wouldn’t you rather be in a place where you could breathe fresh air, Delia?” Thea urged, inciting her sister to remain.
“Of course I shall miss fresh air. But I am needed in London. There are children there living on the streets and there are benefactors of church-run schooling programs for them. Why should I not teach those children who have even less than we?” Delia pointed out.
Thea was exhausted from arguing when she knew her sister’s self-righteous reasons were entirely justified. Could she debate when her sister lived a life of charity and grace? Additionally, there was no one living nearby seeking a governess, which defeated the whole purpose.
Perhaps it was merely her own frustration that she had no hopes for herself. She truly would grow to become a burden. Her father, who worked so hard, and her mother who was already taking care of him. What did they need Thea for?
“I suppose you’re right. And you are not alone. I know I ought to be looking for work as well,” Thea conceded. She loved being with her family and would be sad to leave them, but she also knew that it was time to be off and begin her future.
“Well, clearly
it is taking time. You shall have me for a good deal longer it would seem. Perhaps you will find work before me,” Delia replied, wrapping her arm around Thea’s and resting her head on her sister’s shoulder. They continued to watch out the open door, seeing their father grow smaller and smaller by the moment.
Thea hoped that this meeting would truly be the one to change all their fortunes.
Chapter 2
Finishing his breakfast, Joseph Tyndale, the Duke of Sandon, excused himself and stood slowly, nodding to his mother.
“And where are you off to in such a hurry?” she inquired.
“I have a meeting, Mother. About the new property. It must be furnished if we are to have guests or even stay there ourselves, do you not think?” he pointed out.
“So, are you meeting with someone regarding the home?” she pressed.
“Yes, Mother. The Duke of Arborshire arranged it for me. There is a gentleman who works with nobility to arrange their homes,” he explained, showing slight frustration at his mother’s nagging.
“A gentleman?” she said, needing to question him further.
“A merchant, Mother. He is a merchant. He sells fabrics. I will choose those which I want for my new property. For curtains, for bedding, for the cushions on the chairs of the dining room set. All of it. He has contacts with which everything will be designed and produced, Mother,” the Duke of Sandon replied, trying to restrain himself from yelling. He had grown tired of her insistence upon questioning him.
The Duke of Sandon had tried to remain a good son. He had done everything she wanted from him, and yet she was never happy, primarily because of a decision he had yet to make.
“You know, if you were married, your wife would take care of all of these things and you would be able to focus on far more important things, Joseph,” she said, finally expressing what she had really meant to say from the beginning of the conversation.
“Yes, Mother, I know this,” he spoke slowly and deliberately, gritting his teeth with each word.
“I only mean to remind you that this is the duty of a wife, not a duke. And if you were married-”
“I know, Mother. And I am sorry for not having found a wife yet. But I do keep quite busy and I am generally in circles visited merely by men,” he reminded her.
“Oh, but there are some lovely balls in London during the season. Why have you not made more of an effort?” she whined.
The Duke of Sandon sighed. “Mother, if it should please you, then in three weeks’ time, when the season begins, I shall attend every ball which I am able,” he assured her.
“That’s my boy,” she replied with a patronizing smile. The Duke of Sandon sighed again and made his way out of his mother’s dining room. As he left the house, he grabbed his hat and his favorite coat for business meetings. The driver opened the door to the coach and the Duke of Sandon got in.
The ride to his new estate just outside of Cambridge was longer than he would have liked, but knew that the man he was going to meet would likely have a less comfortable ride getting there.
However, upon arrival, he found that Mr. Caulfield was already at the estate and seemed not in the least bit inconvenienced, despite having traveled with a large portfolio of samples and drawings of potential furniture designs.
“Mr. Caulfield, I thank you for meeting with me,” the Duke of Sandon greeted.
“Your Grace,” Mr. Caulfield replied with a bow to the duke.
“Please, do come in. We have a few chairs upon which we may sit,” the Duke of Sandon said with a slight laugh.
The staff at the nearly empty home welcomed the two men and prepared tea for them at a large dining room table with six chairs, one of the only pieces of furniture in the whole house.
“Well, we do have our work cut out for us, do we not?” Mr. Caulfield said in good humor.
“Indeed, Mr. Caulfield, it would seem that we do. I think, however, that based upon my friend, the Duke of Arborshire’s recommendation of you, we shall have it all come together in due course,” the Duke of Sandon said readily.
“Well, I am humbled by the Duke of Arborshire’s praise. He is an excellent man. How did the two of you become acquainted, might I inquire?” Mr. Caulfield asked, taking a sip of the hot tea.
“We both attended Cambridge University and our first meeting was there. But our friendship continued over a shared love of fencing,” the duke replied. “And how is it that the Duke of Arborshire came to acquire your talents, Mr. Caulfield?”
“Oh, the general way, the same as I have come to you. One happy customer begets another, I suppose,” Mr. Caulfield answered.
Polite conversation continued but soon the tea cups were empty. The Duke of Sandon perceived Mr. Caulfield was too kind to waste his time in accepting a third so they got down to business.
“What I have here are the samples. And these are designs, broken into sections such as bedroom, parlor, et cetera. Now, for the fabrics, are you thinking brocades or solids throughout?” he inquired.
The Duke of Sandon was at a loss, overwhelmed by having to make these types of decisions. He ought to have simply hired someone, but knowing his mother, it wouldn’t have done.
Her taste was so specific that the Duke of Sandon knew any hired person could not quite handle the woman’s distaste as he might be able to. And the thought of asking her to choose was unreasonable as she would then simply blame him for not having a wife to do it herself.
“Mr. Caulfield, I fear that I am ill-equipped for this. I do think that brocades might do better as a theme throughout the home, but I cannot imagine it would be comfortable for the bedding,” he thought out loud.
He perceived that Mr. Caulfield did not wish to insult him, and the man was proceeding carefully.
“That is of no concern, Your Grace. We have entirely different options for fabrics of a more comfortable nature, primarily cottons,” he explained politely.
The Duke of Sandon nodded.
Finally, they had narrowed down the selection to three brocades that the Duke of Sandon thought his mother would approve of before they moved on to satins. The Duke of Sandon was still overwhelmed and wished he didn’t have to do all of this on his own.
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but what do you think your wife will think of these options? Will the duchess approve?” Mr. Caulfield inquired hopefully. The Duke of Sandon could see that what he really wanted to know was whether the mistress of the house would recommend him to her fashionable, high status friends.
“Indeed, Mr. Caulfield, I am not yet married. So, thus far, the only duchess who shall be seeing this home and require approval is my mother and, to be sure, she approves of very little,” the Duke of Sandon said with a laugh. “Having said that, while her tastes are rather distinguished, the quality of your materials speaks for itself, and I imagine she will speak highly of you to those willing to listen.”
Mr. Caulfield seemed pacified for the most part. But he did, then, say something for which the Duke of Sandon could not have been prepared.
“Your Grace, I understand that I am but a humble merchant. I know well that it is not the custom of great men such as yourself to engage with simple merchants in fashionable society. However, it would be a great delight to me if you would concede to dine at the home of a man so far below your station as myself,” Mr. Caulfield invited, bowing his head slightly and closing his eyes in reverence, hiding his mischievous grin.
The Duke of Sandon was both intrigued and astonished, for merchants never had the gall to invite a duke to their homes. And perhaps that very courage was what endeared Mr. Caulfield to the Duke of Sandon so intensely.
He smiled at the man whose head was still bowed.
“Mr. Caulfield, I should enjoy that very much,” the Duke of Sandon replied.
Chapter 3
“Yes, but he is a duke,” Georgette pointed out for what seemed to be the hundredth time.
“Then you go prance about and show off if you would like to, but I have no interest.
He is father’s business acquaintance and nothing more,” Thea urged. “Besides, you are aware, are you not, that dukes are often old men?”
“You truly think so? If he were an old man, do you really think that he would still be single?” Georgette urged with a giggle.
“If he is hideous and atrocious, then yes,” Delia replied, entering the room and putting small silver bobs in her ears.
It had been a time-honored tradition in their home that for each of the three daughters, their father had saved to purchase them a pair of silver dot earrings for their sixteenth birthdays. Thea noted how Georgette, still three months away from sixteen, eyed them with envy. She tried to ignore her sister’s pettiness.
Delia tried to refrain from laughing but her sister’s look was too amusing.
“Oh, dear, she’s coming…” Delia said, glancing at the door.
The sound of their mother’s footsteps was drawing close and soon she filled the door with her voluptuous figure.