by Darcy Burke
The Duke of Distraction
Darcy Burke
For siblings
* * *
I am so grateful for my big brother.
Except for the time he hid my favorite purple clogs.
We never found them.
Contents
The Duke of Distraction
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
Epilogue
Author’s Note
Thank You!
Books by Darcy Burke
The Jewels of Historical Romance
About the Author
The Duke of Distraction
After witnessing how love embittered his uncle and broke his father, Felix Havers, Earl of Ware vows never to love. He conceals his emotions behind a wall of wit and charm, and is celebrated as the master of entertainments—parties, picnics, races. When his best friend’s wallflower sister needs to find a husband, he promises to make her the toast of London... without losing his heart.
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Miss Sarah Colton has given up on the pursuit of marriage. When her parents learn she intends to open a millinery shop, they give her an ultimatum: choose a husband or they’ll do it for her. She accepts Felix’s help, never imagining their scheme will ignite a mutual attraction neither of them dare indulge. But when tragedy strikes, can they heal each other or will the demons of Felix’s past consume them both?
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The Duke of Distraction
Copyright © 2019Darcy Burke
All rights reserved.
* * *
ISBN: 1-944576-43-6
ISBN-13: 978-1-944576-43-1
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Book design: © Darcy Burke.
Book Cover Design © Hang Le.
Cover image © Period Images.
Book Cover Font Design © Carrie Divine/Seductive Designs
Editing: Linda Ingmanson.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
Created with Vellum
Chapter 1
London, May, 1818
“Is that another new hat, Miss Colton?”
Sarah brought her hand to the side of her poke bonnet trimmed in Pomona green and persimmon-striped ivory ribbon and bright yellow flowers with persimmon-colored centers. “Yes.”
Mrs. Wetherell clucked her tongue. “It’s absolutely stunning. Wherever did you buy it? I must have something just like it.”
“Well, not just like it, I hope.” Sarah smiled demurely, and her mother’s friend laughed gaily.
“Of course not just like it,” Mrs. Wetherell said. “But that striped ribbon is gorgeous. It pulls the green from your gown so beautifully.”
Sarah’s walking dress was Pomona green with an ivory sash. The striped ribbon and yellow flowers were a bold choice according to her mother, but Sarah thought they worked together perfectly.
“Thank you,” Sarah said, inwardly beaming.
Lavinia, the Marchioness of Northam and Sarah’s dearest friend, approached with a wide smile. “Why, Sarah, you look particularly fetching today.” She nodded toward Mrs. Wetherell. “Good afternoon. I hope you don’t mind if I steal Miss Colton away?”
Mrs. Wetherell dipped a brief, shallow curtsey. “Not at all, my lady.”
Sarah looped her arm through Lavinia’s and walked her away from the group of ladies that had gathered to watch the afternoon’s races. “Thank you for rescuing me. I need to place my wagers.”
Lavinia narrowed her eyes slightly as she cast a sidelong look at Sarah. “How much money have you made on these races?” It was the third week of a tournament, with two more weeks after this one.
Sarah shrugged as she steered them toward the table where Mr. Kinsley was collecting and recording wagers for the five races taking place that day: two for the women and three for the men. “I’m not getting rich, if that’s what you’re wondering.” She was, however, accumulating an adequate purse and might just achieve her goal today. If she was lucky.
“I presume you’ll be wagering on both Lucy and Dartford,” Lavinia said.
“Of course.” Their friend Lucy, the Countess of Dartford, was racing in one of the women’s heats, while her husband was racing in the men’s. “I will also place money on Lady Exeby and Mr. Wakeham.”
“Indeed?” Lavinia sounded surprised. “Mr. Wakeham over Lord Ponsford?”
“It’s a bit of a gamble, but that’s the point of it.” If Wakeham won, it would surely fatten Sarah’s purse to precisely where she needed it to be.
“I’m surprised you haven’t taken to gambling with Lucy.” Lavinia waved her hand. “Never mind. Your parents would be horrified.”
Livid was perhaps a better description. They’d notice her wagering at social events, but not on these races. Her father rarely came to the park, and her mother stayed far away from the races, which were for the younger set anyway.
“The only reason Mother allows me to attend these is because there are bachelors.” Now on her fourth Season, Sarah felt an intense pressure to marry. From her parents. From herself, she felt only an intense pressure to be happy, and marriage alone wasn’t enough. Now, marriage to a man she loved…
But she wasn’t holding out for that. She was tired of holding out for anything. Of waiting for something. Or someone. She was ready to make her own future.
“You didn’t say who you planned to place your wager for in St. Ives’s race,” Lavinia said, arching an auburn brow.
The Earl of St. Ives had seemed to be on the verge of courting their friend Fanny, but then she’d left town abruptly, retiring to the country with her sister who was expecting her second child.
“St. Ives is by far the better racer,” Sarah said.
Lavinia scowled. “But we’re annoyed with him because it seems he might have driven Fanny away.”
They’d discussed it, and that was their estimation. They’d written to Fanny, asking about her relationship with him, but had yet
to receive a response.
Sarah exhaled. “Even so, I will bet on him.”
Lavinia looked at her shrewdly as they arrived at the wagering table. “You are definitely trying to make money.”
Letting out a nervous laugh, Sarah withdrew her arm from Lavinia’s when the handsome Mr. Kinsley, who was also the Earl of St. Ives’s secretary, took her wagers.
He winced when it came to his employer’s race. “I’m afraid St. Ives has forfeited his race today.”
Sarah frowned. “Why would he do that? It was almost certainly going to be him and Dartford in the final in two weeks.”
“He had to leave town.”
Sarah exchanged a look with Lavinia, whose elevated brows surely mirrored Sarah’s. Sarah returned her attention to Mr. Kinsley with a murmured “Indeed?”
“Did he go to Yorkshire?” Lavinia, who often lacked subtlety, asked.
Mr. Kinsley gave a bland smile. “I’m not entirely certain.”
Sarah and Lavinia shared another look that silently communicated their extreme skepticism about that. “Well, we shall hope he went to Yorkshire,” Sarah said as she handed him her money.
Mr. Kinsley finished recording her wagers, and Sarah turned from the table with Lavinia.
As soon as they put some distance between themselves and Mr. Kinsley, Lavinia asked, “Should we write to Fanny and tell her he’s left town?”
“What if he isn’t going to Yorkshire? We mustn’t interfere.”
Lavinia pushed out a frustrated breath. “You’re right. I didn’t like it when Beck tried to interfere in matters of the heart.”
Her husband, Beck, had been the self-described Duke of Seduction, penning poems to young ladies with the goal of elevating their popularity on the Marriage Mart so that they would gain the attention of marriage-minded bachelors. He’d written about Lavinia and Sarah before Lavinia had put a stop to his “help.” While some ladies had appreciated the assistance, others had not.
Sarah’s mother had loved the attention Sarah had received for a few weeks. However, it hadn’t lasted. Sarah had liked it at first too, but then she’d realized she was a novelty and that the men were less interested in her than they were in joining in the fun created by the Duke of Seduction’s notoriety.
Sarah looked over at the vehicles gathered for the races, then glanced toward Lavinia. “Are you sad you’re no longer racing for the championship?”
Lavinia, who had lost her race in the second round, lifted a shoulder. “A bit, but I was never really in the hunt. These other ladies have far more experience than I. Next year, I shall be a formidable opponent.” She waggled her eyebrows and smiled.
“You think Felix will do this next year?” Sarah asked.
“Why not? What else would he do? It’s not as if he’ll be married.”
That much was true.
Sarah’s gaze found the man in question. Felix Havers, the Earl of Ware, stood beside the platform from where he would make his announcements and was flanked by Lavinia’s husband, the Marquess of Northam, whom they all called Beck, and Sarah’s brother, Anthony. She and Anthony had known Felix most of their lives, having met him when he and his father had come to stay when he and Anthony had been eight. Sarah had been just four, and the only thing she remembered about the occasion was the boys hiding her favorite shoes. They’d hidden them so well that they’d never been found. Sarah had cried for days.
“But what of you?” Lavinia peered at Sarah. “Are there any bachelors here who’ve caught your eye?”
Sarah pressed her lips together. “You’d know if there were.”
“The right man will come along,” Lavinia said with great confidence. “Likely when you least expect it, as happened with me and Beck.” Her gaze traveled to her husband, who just happened to be looking her way, and they shared a long, intimate look that made Sarah’s gut tighten with envy.
Then she promptly admonished herself. She didn’t begrudge her friend’s happiness one bit. She’d find her own happiness, and she didn’t need a man to do it.
“Shall we go join them?” Sarah said with a smile, knowing Lavinia wanted to be with her husband.
“If you don’t mind,” Lavinia said a bit sheepishly.
Sarah laughed softly. “Not at all.”
A pair of women arrived before them. The purpose of their visit became immediately apparent. “Why did you cease asking for the offer of favors?” one of them asked Felix. Her voice held a hint of a whine, and she looked rather disappointed. Her friend, on the other hand, gazed at Felix with an edge of hostility.
The first two times they’d convened for races, Felix had called for favors to be offered to the drivers. At the first tournament, only women had been invited to offer a favor to the male drivers—if their favor was chosen, they rode with the driver. After the women had complained, Felix had called for men to offer favors at the next set of races.
Felix smiled warmly at both women. “While that was incredibly diverting, a couple of the drivers confided to me that it was distracting to have a passenger with them, so in the interest of safety, I decided to end the practice. I do hope you aren’t terribly disappointed. I shall be most upset.” He placed his hand against his chest and looked at them with solemn regret.
Both ladies seemed to melt beneath his charm, and they spoke over each other in their effort to assure him they understood. Sarah rolled her eyes. If they were hoping to attract Felix in any way, they would be sorely disappointed.
After the ladies departed, Lavinia blinked at Felix. “Did anyone other than me complain?”
“Actually, someone else did,” Felix admitted. “Though in his case, I’m not sure his passenger had anything to do with his loss.”
“Well, Beck was entirely the reason for mine.” Lavinia slid her husband a heated glance. “Very distracting,” she murmured.
Beck inclined his head in apology that seemed to somehow be lacking in remorse.
Anthony looked to Sarah. “I see you were placing wagers again. Do Mother and Father know you’re doing that?”
Sarah gave him a dark stare. “What do you think? You’d better not tell them either.”
Anthony chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare. But I must ask what you’re going to do with all your winnings. Seems as though you’ve been rather lucky the last two weeks.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” she said primly.
“Your sister’s got an eye for winners,” Felix said, his green eyes sparkling in the warm sunlight. He winked at Sarah, and she nodded in appreciation.
“It’s a shame St. Ives forfeited,” Sarah said.
Felix nodded. “He told me last night at the club, and I did try to convince him to stay.”
“Is he going to Yorkshire?” Lavinia asked.
“He didn’t say,” Felix said with a touch of apology to his tone. “Nor did I ask.”
Lavinia shook her head. “You men are terrible at gathering information.”
“We aren’t gossips,” Anthony said with a laugh.
“It isn’t gossip. We’re all friends. We share information.” Lavinia briefly pursed her lips. “Or at least, we should.”
Sarah blinked at Lavinia, who hadn’t always shared all the information regarding her and Beck. Lavinia seemed to comprehend Sarah’s silent communication as her cheeks turned a faint shade of pink and she muttered, “Never mind. It’s none of our business.”
It wasn’t, but like Lavinia, Sarah cared about their friend Fanny and hoped that she and St. Ives would find their way to a happily ever after.
Then that would just leave Sarah alone.
“Time to get started,” Felix said. He lifted the horn to his mouth and announced the first women’s race, featuring their friend Lucy and Mrs. Jermyn.
The track was shaped like a three-sided box with sharp corners that required expert turning. The course had been lengthened after the first week, which had more resembled a U. It took skill and nerve—two things Sarah lacked when it came to racing a vehi
cle. She could ride a horse as if she was escaping a fire, but driving was something she preferred at a sedate and orderly pace.
Lucy and Mrs. Jermyn positioned themselves at the starting line, which was to the right. Felix’s platform was in the center of the open side of the three-sided box course. He could view the entire track and call out a commentary as it progressed.
Anthony handed him a bell, which Felix rang loudly to signify the start of the race.
Sarah held her breath as the two phaetons lurched forward. Mrs. Jermyn took the lead as they headed toward the first turn. Lucy was devastatingly efficient on the turns, and this time was no different. Though she was on the outside, she took it at a faster pace and was able to drive abreast of Mrs. Jermyn on the straight track as they raced to the second turn.
“The Duchess of Daring is poised to take the lead. Mrs. Jermyn will need to make up some time on this next turn,” Felix yelled through the horn.
The spectators were gathered in the center of the three-sided box, with most of them standing near the finish. Lucy’s husband, the Earl of Dartford and the owner of the nickname, the Duke of Daring, couldn’t seem to stand still as he watched his wife take the second turn. As with the first, she was faster and this time leapt out ahead as they sped toward the finish.
In the end, it wasn’t terribly close as Lucy crossed the line first.
