Sins of a Roguish Duke (Preview)

Chapter One

Berkshire, England, 1808

“Girls!” The feminine voice emanating from the doorway was strident. “You must both be ready in fifteen minutes precisely!”

Miss Selina Blackwood, younger daughter of an impoverished baronet, jumped on her chair in front of the dressing table at the sound of her mother’s imperious voice. This caused her maid, who was adding the finishing touches to her hair, to stick a hairpin into her scalp quite forcibly. Selina winced at the pain.

“We will be ready in time, Mama,” said Selina’s older sister, Matilda, in a calm, almost bored voice. Matilda was already dressed for the upcoming ball, sitting on Selina’s bed, flicking through a ladies’ fashion journal. “I am already done. I am just supervising Selina. You know how she runs late all the time.”

“I do know,” said their mother, her nostrils flaring slightly. “And that is precisely why I am here.” She gazed at her younger daughter critically. “Selina, you know how important this ball is, do you not? Lord and Lady Jervis have been most kind to extend us an invitation at all, and there shall be a veritable wealth of eligible bachelors there for the picking. You must be vigilant and keep your dance card full for the entire evening, my girl.”

Selina was silent, staring at her reflection in the looking glass, feeling her stomach begin to churn with anxiety. It was always like this in the lead-up to a society ball. Their mother, Lady Blackwood, started to exert pressure upon her daughters up to a week in advance, and by the day of the ball, everyone’s nerves in the household were frayed and on edge. Even the servants were jumpy and a little wild-eyed, probably privately praying for whichever ball they were furiously working towards to be over and done with.

Selina was weary of hearing about eligible bachelors and good matches and how the girls must improve the family’s fortunes. Both her parents rarely talked about anything else. It had been the same narrative since she and Matilda had come out into society, although Matilda had been hearing it for a little longer. Her sister was two years older than her, after all. Selina had just turned twenty. Still young enough to hear it for many years to come.

Selina stared at her sister in the looking glass. Matilda looked supremely beautiful, as always, coiffed to perfection, absolutely immaculate. No one would ever know that the ball gown her sister was wearing was over a year old and had been altered for the third time by their clever seamstress to make it look new again. Just like the gown Selina was wearing this evening had been altered, as well. This was the fourth time she had worn it. Not that Selina cared all that much. She was used to being genteel but poor.

She glanced at her mother. If only Lady Blackwood could accept it, as well.

“I mean it, Selina,” warned her mother, an edge of panic to her voice. “You and your sister are not getting any younger! If you do not seize any chances, you shall end up a spinster.” She spat the last word out as if she had just encountered dirt upon her tongue. “And then what shall happen to our family? We shall be the poor, obscure Blackwood family forevermore.”

“We know, Mama,” said Matilda, in the same bored voice, tossing the journal she was perusing aside. “My dance card will be full. And I am certain Selina will make sure of the same.”

Lady Blackwood harrumphed loudly but seemed to have run out of steam. She glared at her two daughters before backing out of the room. Matilda got up, stretching lazily, fixing Selina with a hard look.

“I do not want any carry-on from you this evening,” said her sister. “You know that Mama will be insufferable if we shirk our duty. No skulking off to sit with your book beneath a rose bush, Selina.”

Selina flushed. “I am not planning to bring a book with me to the ball,” she said, feeling exposed. Her sister knew her too well and was very well aware that Selina infinitely preferred reading to socialising. “What do you take me for?”

Matilda sighed heavily. “I take you for a dreamer, Selina. You have your head in the clouds, dreaming about romance and love and other nonsense. Those gothic romance novels you adore have filled your mind with poppycock.” Her voice grew hard. “You know that we cannot afford to think about love. We are the daughters of an impoverished baronet. We must marry for wealth and title and lift up the family’s fortunes.”

“I know,” said Selina, feeling a slight headache starting at the back of her skull. “It is all I ever hear, Matilda.” She sighed. “Do you not ever wish it could be different? Even a little bit?”

“No,” said her sister, in the same hard voice. “I am not a dreamer like you. I know my duty, and besides, I want to marry for wealth and title.” She paused, gazing down at her ball gown with a withering look upon her face. “It will mean I shall have a much better life and never have to worry about wearing the same dress constantly. People will respect me.”

Selina frowned, about to make a counterargument about respect being earned by merit, not privilege, when there was a knock at the door. She straightened, feeling glad for the first time that night. It was sure to be her dearest friend in the world, Harriet Pritchard. Harriet had agreed to accompany them to the ball this evening and was even planning to stay the night here afterwards. As far as Selina was concerned, her friend coming over was sure to be the highlight of the evening.

“Come in,” called Selina.

“There,” said her maid, Ellen, in a satisfied voice. “You are ready, miss.”

The door opened. It was Harriet. The two old friends squealed in delight at seeing each other. Matilda sighed again, rolling her eyes.

“I will leave you both to it,” she said, heading towards the door. “But you must make sure you are in the foyer in five minutes, Selina, or else Mama will be on the warpath again.”

“I promise,” said Selina.

Her sister and the maid left the room. Selina got up, kissing her friend on the cheek.

“How well you look this evening, Harriet,” she said, suffused with joy at the sight of her friend again. “As pretty as a picture.”

Harriet glowed beneath her praise. And it was true—Harriet did look lovely and fresh this evening in her pink silk ballgown, with matching pink flowers scattered throughout her nut-brown hair. Harriet had a round, pretty face with a snub nose and laughing blue eyes. As far as Selina was concerned, her friend was the finest thing she had beheld all week.

“Thank you,” said Harriet, her cheeks dimpling. “As do you, Selina. Why, the seamstress has done wonders with your old lemon silk gown.” Her eyes rested on the bodice of Selina’s gown. “Has she added a row of embroidery along the neckline?”

Selina nodded. “Yes. And on the sleeves. As well as putting a net overlay on the whole thing.” She rolled her eyes. “Mama was very particular about it, considering I have worn it a few times already. She does not want anyone to know that it has been worn previously, which they will anyway, I am sure.”

Harriet nodded sympathetically. “Well, it looks as good as new to me,” she said, taking Selina’s hands and squeezing them. “How are you feeling about the evening ahead, dearest?”

Selina sighed. “I am vexed, as always, Harriet,” she said, biting her lip. “Mama has been in a high state of panic all week about this ball, lecturing us every single day about finding a good match.” She took a deep breath. “I declare I am heartily sick of the subject.”

Harriet frowned slightly. “I suppose it is hard for her and your father. To have been reduced in such a way due to your grandfather’s intemperance with your family fortune.” She paused. “She only wants the best for you and Matilda. As does your father.”

“You mean they want what is best for them,” countered Selina darkly, sighing again. “Matilda and I are just the conduits to raising their fortune. A means to an end.”

Harriet patted her hand. “You must not be so cynical, Selina. It is unlike you. They are doing their best. And we are all expected to marry well, after all.”

“But you are not pressured in the same way,” said Selina, her chest tight. “Your parents are solvent financially, and you do not have such a heavy burden placed upon you. You know they will let you marry for love if you wish to do so. Unlike me.”

Harriet laughed lightly. “Oh, Selina! You really do read too many of those novels of yours.”

“I like my novels,” said Selina in a teasing voice. “Shall I tell you about the dashing heroes who press the heroines against them, making them quake with desire before they pick them up and carry them to the bed to have their wicked way with them?”

“Selina, stop,” said Harriet in a mock horrified voice. “Someone might hear you! It is most distasteful.” She lowered her voice. “Although rather thrilling.”

They both burst into laughter. The door creaked open, and a small bundle of golden fur rushed into the room, almost knocking Selina over. Both ladies laughed.

“Down, Jeb,” said Selina softly. “Mama will not be happy with you if you put muddy paws all over my gown, you know.”

The dog barked but did as he was told, sitting down and wagging his tail furiously. Selina sat down on the edge of her bed, picking up the golden bundle, and petting him while she whispered words of endearment to the dog.

“Your mother will not be happy if you are covered in dog fur either,” laughed Harriet, sitting beside her and reaching over to caress the dog’s velvety ears. “How did Jeb get into the house? I thought your mother had strict rules about keeping the dogs and cats out before a ball.”

Selina laughed. “Jeb must have snuck back in by the kitchen door.” She sighed heavily. “You know, Harriet, I think I would be perfectly happy living in a cottage by myself with my pets and my books. It would be a good life.”

“You mean never marry?” Harriet sounded sceptical. “You are teasing, dearest. You know that could never happen. Even if you become a spinster, you would remain here, at Warfield Hall. And then you would have to contend with your mother forever. Your dream of a cottage with your pets and books can never happen.”

Selina sighed again, rubbing Jeb’s belly. The dog looked blissful at the attention. She knew Harriet was right, of course. It wasn’t as if she had any independent means to buy a cottage for herself. But it had been a secret dream since she was small, and she couldn’t let go of it. She supposed it was just her way of clinging to her true nature while living in a family of strong-willed characters who were always trying to turn her into something she wasn’t.

She smiled, thinking about but not telling Harriet the second part of her dream. That she would be living in her cottage, with her pets and books, and encounter a tall, handsome stranger who would sweep her off her feet and declare undying love to her….

The door burst open. Her mother stood there, hands on hips, looking horrified.

“What is that dog doing in here?!” she screeched, rushing forward.

Jeb panicked, jumping off Selina’s lap and racing out the door. Both girls hastily stood up. Lady Blackwood grabbed Selina’s arm, pushing her towards the door. She was cross.

“I told you to be in the foyer in five minutes,” she said, looking harassed. “And it has been ten minutes. Not only that, but now your gown is covered in dog fur.” She shook her head. “What am I going to do with you, Selina? What am I going to do?”

Selina had no answer to that. As her mother led her down the staircase, with Harriet following closely behind, she supposed there was nothing that could be done about her at all.

Matilda was waiting in the foyer, still looking immaculate and calm. Selina’s heart clenched. Her sister was sure to succeed and find a good match eventually. But she didn’t think she ever would. And nor did she want to. Marrying for wealth and status was abhorrent to her. But there was nothing she could do to change the way things were. Not living with her family, at any rate.

Chapter Two

Captain Lucian Cavendish walked into the foyer of the small country house, giving his hat and gloves to the butler. He gazed around, smiling slightly. So this was the family home of his good friend, Captain Howard Byrne. He had been travelling all day from London to get to Berkshire, and he was glad to be in such a warm, cosy house at long last. He felt shattered.

“Cavendish!”

Lucian turned around. Howard was standing there, beaming at him. They hugged, clapping each other on the back in the manner of men not used to physical affection, but wanting to express it, nonetheless. After a moment, they both stepped back, grinning at each other.

“A drink?” Howard asked, leading him into the house. “I daresay you need it after that trip.”

“I do,” said Lucian, gazing around the cosy parlour before settling himself into an overstuffed upholstered armchair. “Your house is very nice indeed, Byrne. You never let on that it was so comfortable.”

Howard laughed slightly as he handed the small brandy glass to his friend, taking a seat opposite him. “I suppose I have never thought much about it,” he said, gazing around the parlour himself. “I am hardly ever here, as you know. I’ve spent the last five years at sea. But I am glad I kept it on after my parents died. It’s home, in a way that a ship never can be.”

Lucian nodded. He knew that his friend’s parents had died years ago, and he had inherited the family home in Berkshire. Howard had told him when they had first met, but he had assumed it was a small cottage, not a comfortable two-storey country home, surrounded by a sprawling, ramshackle garden. His friend had clearly come from a middle to upper-class background, something which Howard didn’t advertise. 

Lucian sipped the brandy, settling back into the chair. He understood his friend’s reluctance to talk about the past—he was exactly the same. So many men joined the Navy to escape their lives and forge a new one. He was no different to the rest.

Lucian’s heart clenched, thinking about his own ancestral home. It was rather a bit larger and grander than this one. So large and grand, in fact, that he didn’t think he had explored all of it in his entire childhood. And he supposed he would never get the chance again, seeing as he was now estranged from his father and brother, who were the only relatives he had left in this world, apart from some distant cousins.

“How was the last voyage?” asked Howard, taking a sip of his own brandy. “Are you ready for some respite in the country, old friend?”

Lucian sighed. “It was heavy going, old chap,” he said, his eyes clouding as he recalled the voyage he had just finished. “We encountered a Spanish warship just off the coast of Gibraltar and there was some posturing. Cannons were fired.” He rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. “Luckily, it didn’t amount to anything.”

Howard frowned. “I think the Spanish are going to join the French,” he said grimly. “They will be on the side of Napoleon, and we will have to contend with them, as well. It is not looking good.”

Lucian nodded. He already knew that the Spanish were allying themselves with the French. There was going to be another full-scale Napoleonic War soon. He was sure of it.

He finished his brandy. He didn’t want to think about it at the moment. In a few weeks, he must report for duty again, as a captain in His Majesty’s Navy, but for now, he was off duty. Something that hadn’t happened in quite a long time. He had been at a bit of a loss as to what to do with the time, since he couldn’t return to Dudley Park, his ancestral home. But then, good old Howard had saved the day, extending an invitation to stay with him in Berkshire for the duration of it. So here he was.

Lucian sighed again. Howard had told him they would fill their days walking and riding the hills of Berkshire. It sounded incredibly relaxing and quiet, which was just what he wanted. And Berkshire looked beautiful, very green and pastoral, judging by what he had seen through the carriage window on the journey here. It would make a welcome change to his poky cabin on the Gloriana.

Howard noticed his empty glass, springing to his feet. “A refill?”

Lucian nodded, passing the glass to his friend. He gazed out the window at the flowers in the garden. He spotted a plethora of white daisy bushes, tall rose bushes in a myriad of colours, and tall, sprightly lavender. A real English country garden. It still looked slightly unreal to him after so long on his ship, staring out at the sea. A wave of utter weariness washed over him.

“I am going to sleep well tonight, my friend,” said Lucian, stretching, taking the glass of brandy his friend had just refilled. “I am thinking an early dinner and then bed?”

Howard looked sheepish. “Actually…I have other plans for us this evening.”

Lucian gazed at him balefully. “What other plans?”

Howard hesitated. “I have been invited to a local ball,” he said, grimacing slightly. “The Jervis family are neighbours. Well, they live over five miles away, so almost neighbours.” He smiled tentatively. “I said that I would as long as I can bring you along. They accepted with grace.”

“What?” said Lucian in dismay, almost spluttering his brandy. “A ball? A real high-society ball with all the trimmings?”

Howard nodded. “Ah, yes,” said his friend. “I am sorry, old chap, but old Jervis did insist on account of the fact I have not been in the district in so long.”

“I see,” said Lucian, feeling pained. “Well, that is all well and good, but that does not mean I must accompany you.” He paused. “I can just stay here, can’t I? I can putter around a bit after you go, and honestly, I will probably be in bed before you have even gotten there.”

“Please come,” said Howard, looking distressed. “I would feel bad leaving you alone here when you have only just arrived. I would not be much of a host if I did that, would I?”

Lucian gave a painful sigh. “I do not know that it matters, Byrne. Certainly, I do not care about such things.” He exhaled slowly. “I despise high-society balls, my friend. I never liked them when I was forced to go to them, and I cannot imagine anything has changed in the five years since I last attended one.”

“Has it been that long?” asked Howard, sipping his brandy. “Was that at your home in Hampshire?”

Lucian grimaced. “It was, indeed. A spring ball with all the recent debutantes and their baying mothers pressuring me to dance.” He rolled his eyes. “I really despise that world, Byrne. It was one of the reasons I decided to leave it all behind. And now you want me to return to it?”

Howard sighed. “I know you despise the ton, Cavendish, even though you are the son of a duke,” he said, raising one eyebrow. “You never have explained to me properly why you left it all behind. I never even knew your real title for six months after we met! I thought you were a middle-class lad like me, even with your plummy accent.”

Lucian laughed. “I have worked hard to lose that accent,” he said pensively. “To leave it all behind. To shed all the remnants of that life as if it were a snakeskin.” He shrugged. “What can I say? It never suited me. I felt constrained by the stuffiness of it. I wanted adventure. And the life of a naval officer offered me exactly what I wanted.”

He sipped his brandy reflectively. Howard didn’t know the true reason he had left his old life behind forever. The reason he no longer had any contact with his father, the Duke of Dudley, nor his brother, Ralph, the heir apparent to the duchy. It wasn’t something he felt comfortable talking about with anyone, even a good friend like Howard. He didn’t want anyone to feel sorry for him, as if his life was lacking in some way, as if he were hard done by. Because the truth was, his father’s decision had been for the best. He had shed his old life and he didn’t miss it. Not at all.

He liked his life. He loved the sea. He loved the fact that each day was different and he never knew what to expect. And now, he was starting to feel constrained again, even at the mere thought of going to this ball with Howard.

“I can’t do it, Byrne,” he said, putting down his brandy class. “I really cannot.”

“Please,” begged Howard, looking pained. “All you need do is drink fine brandy or champagne, mill around a bit, and then we can go.” He brightened. “There are some awfully good-looking local girls, you know. We breed them pretty in Berkshire.”

Lucian laughed. Howard was being crafty now—his friend knew his weakness for the fairer sex. Lucian had an eye for beautiful women and prided himself on getting to know all the local beauties wherever he was in port. Very well, indeed.

“The local ladies are very pretty?” he asked, picking up his brandy glass again. “How pretty?”

“They are prettier in this county than anywhere in England,” said Howard, smiling slightly. “I promise. You will be entranced, old chap.”

Lucian took a swig of the drink as he contemplated it. He knew very well that even if Howard’s boast was correct, the local ladies would all be as prim, proper, and boring as the ladies in Hampshire, even if they were raving beauties. But it wouldn’t do a man any harm to look. He had been a while at sea and hadn’t had the company of a woman since Gibraltar. His loins stirred as he remembered the luscious Estella, a raven-haired dusky beauty that had warmed his nights for quite a while.

“Go on,” urged Howard, pressing his advantage. “It is only one night. And I promise we will spend the rest of your time here in quiet activities. Riding and walking and so on.”

Lucian hesitated. He supposed one night of hightailing it with the ton wasn’t going to hurt him. Especially if there were some beauties to observe. And fine brandy to drink, of course.

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“Sins of a Roguish Duke” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Miss Selina Blackwood feels like the black sheep of her family; with her parents insisting upon marrying for fortune and status, all that the ravishing Selina desires is to fall in love. When she encounters the handsome and seductive Captain Lucian Cavendish by chance, she experiences a desire she has never felt before. She knows that her family will never accept a common sea captain as a suitor, but when circumstances take a dramatic turn for the worse, she faces an impossible decision, one that could result in her losing it all.

Sailing for the land of love…

The captivating Lucian has been disowned and has left behind his life as the younger son of a Duke forever. Now, he is Captain Cavendish, naval officer, and never tells anyone about his noble background. However, when he encounters the wild, spirited Selina and a sinful affair begins, he is determined to make the only lady who ever captured his heart, his wife. Yet, with a long buried secret and no fortune, all he wishes is for Selina to choose him for himself…

Will she make the right choice?

Both Selina and Lucian try to forget their passionate time together, but years later when the two past lovers reunite, the truth about Lucian’s identity will surface. Can Selina ever forgive him for the deception? Beset by mutual misunderstanding, they try to resist each other while they are courting other people. Will such a fierce connection fade into obscurity in the midst of all obstacles, or will the scandalous couple find its way back in each other’s arms?

“Sins of a Roguish Duke” is a historical romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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