Clean Regency Romance
The Duke’s
Christmas Vow
Arietta Richmond
Dreamstone Publishing © 2020
www.dreamstonepublishing.com
Copyright © 2020 Dreamstone Publishing and Arietta Richmond,
All rights reserved.
No parts of this work may be copied without the author’s permission.
ISBN-13: 978-1-925915-78-5
Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organisations, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.
Dedication
For everyone who had the grace to be patient while this book, and every other book that I have written, was coming into existence, who provided cups of tea, and food, when the writing would not let me go, and endured countless times being asked for opinions.
For the readers who inspire me to continue writing, by buying my books! Especially for those of you who have taken the time to email me, or to leave reviews, and tell me what you love about my books, and what you’d like to see more of – thank you – I’m listening. I hope that you enjoy book, just as much as my other books.
For my growing team of beta readers and advance reviewers – it’s thanks to you that others can enjoy these books in the best presentation possible!
And for all the writers of Regency Historical Romance, whose books I read, who inspired me to write in this fascinating period.
Table of Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Here is your preview of A Spinster for a Spy
Chapter One
Books in the A Duke’s Daughters – the Elbury Bouquet Series
Books in the His Majesty’s Hounds Series
Books in The Derbyshire Set
Regency Collections with Other Authors
Books in the Regency Scandals Series
Books in the Nettlefold Chronicles
Other Books from Arietta
Themed Regency Collections
Other Books from Dreamstone Publishing
Books by Arietta Richmond
His Majesty’s Hounds
Claiming the Heart of a Duke Intriguing the Viscount
Giving a Heart of Lace Being Lady Harriet’s Hero
Enchanting the Duke Redeeming the Marquess
Finding the Duke’s Heir Winning the Merchant Earl
Healing Lord Barton Kissing the Duke of Hearts
Loving the Bitter Baron Falling for the Earl
Rescuing the Countess Betting on a Lady’s Heart
Attracting the Spymaster Courting a Spinster for Christmas
Restoring the Earl’s Honour
From Soldier Spy to Lord (contains the first three books in one volume)
To Love a Determined Lady (Contains Books 4, 5 and 6 in one volume)
Love Heals a Lord (Contains Books 7, 8 and 9 in one volume)
To Love a Dashing Lord (Contains Books 10, 11, 12, and 13 in one volume)
A Duke’s Daughters – The Elbury Bouquet
A Spinster for a Spy (Lily)
A Vixen for a Viscount (Hyacinth)
A Bluestocking for a Baron (Rose)
A Diamond for a Duke (Camellia)
A Minx for a Merchant (Primrose)
An Enchantress for an Earl (Violet) (coming soon)
A Maiden for a Marquess (Iris) (coming soon)
A Heart for an Heir (Thorne) (coming soon)
The Nettlefold Chronicles
The Duke and the Spinster To Dance with the Dangerous Duke
A Duke in Autumn A Christmas Bride for the Duke
The Regency Gothic Series
Lord of the Storm
Lord of the Darkness (coming soon)
Lord of the Lost (coming soon)
Lord of the Shadows (coming soon)
Lady Canterford’s Conspirators (The Mayfair Ladies Poetry Society)
A six book series (coming soon)
The Regency Scandals Series
The Gift of a Christmas Scandal
Lady Mariel’s Scandalous Love
Christmas with That Duke
The Derbyshire Set
A Gift of Love (Prequel short story)
A Devil’s Bargain (Prequel short story - coming soon)
The Earl’s Unexpected Bride
The Captain’s Compromised Heiress
The Viscount’s Unsuitable Affair
The Count’s Impetuous Seduction
The Rake’s Unlikely Redemption
The Marquess’ Scandalous Mistress
A Remembered Face (Bonus short story – coming soon)
The Marchioness’ Second Chance
A Viscount’s Reluctant Passion
Lady Theodora’s Christmas Wish
The Duke’s Improper Love (coming soon)
A Gentleman’s Unconventional Courtship (coming soon)
The Derbyshire Set, Omnibus Edition, Volume 1 (the first three books in one volume.)
The Derbyshire Set, Omnibus Edition, Volume 2 (the second three books in one volume.)
Other Books
The Scottish Governess
Her Summer Duke
Her Passionate Duke
Her Absent Duke
Her Determined Duke
Her Generous Duke (Coming Soon)
The Duke’s Christmas Vow
Her Christmas Duke (Coming Soon)
The Crew of the Seadragon’s Soul Series, (coming soon - a set of 10 linked novels)
Themed Collections
The Regency Christmas Hearts Collection
The Regency Spring and Valentine’s Hearts Collection
The Regency Summer Hearts Collection
The Regency Autumn Hearts Collection
Prologue
Christmas Day 1816
“Your solemn vow, Rafael. Give me your solemn vow that you will find a suitable woman to marry, before next Christmas Day.”
Rafael Livingstone, Duke of Oakmoor, regarded his mother with an expression compounded of frustration, resentment, and resignation. They were barely a week out of their year of mourning for his father and, already, it had come to this. He knew that he should marry, and get himself an heir, that it was part of the responsibility which came with the title, but he had hoped for a few years respite from the London Season, and the hovering hopeful young women who wished to be a Duchess.
Mourning had allowed him to avoid their shallow falsity for a year, but now, it seemed that there was to be no further escape.
“Surely, I can take a little more time about it? I would prefer to find a woman I might actually like, or even love, rather than simply tolerate! And I’ve yet to meet one. Every young woman of the ton that I have met is vapid, insipid, shallow, self-serving, and prone to gossip and lies. I abhor gossip, and dishonesty is just completely unacceptable.”
“Nonetheless, I want your solemn vow. There must be one woman among them that you can tolerate. You cannot waste time – you need an heir. The thought that, if anything should happen to you, the title and estates would go to your uncle, is enough to make any sane person feel quite ill. Your uncle is incapable, bedridden – the estates would fall into disrepair,
and everything that your father and his father worked for would be lost.”
Rafe, nodded, unable to dispute her point. What she said was true. He swallowed, facing the fact that he would have to give her what she wanted, that duty bound him despite his personal misgivings. He would give his vow, and pray that a miracle happened, that somehow, he would meet a suitable woman, who was also pleasant, honest, straightforward, and had at least a modicum of intelligence.
“All right Mother. I give you my vow. By next Christmas Day, I will find a woman to marry.”
“Thank you. But I warn you, don’t take this lightly. If, by November, you have not become betrothed, I will organise a Christmas House Party, and you will choose from amongst those who attend.”
Rafe shuddered.
“I will do my best to prevent it coming to that.”
Chapter One
December 1817
Lady Charity Pemberton breathed deeply of the crisp wintry air. There was a touch of the scent of the sea to it, for Oakmoor Chase was close to the coast, a vast estate of forest and moor, which ran from rolling hills to dramatic sea cliffs. It was beautiful, in a stark kind of way. Above her, sea birds wheeled through the clouded sky, crying their mournful cries.
She felt a kinship with them, as if they cried for what they would never have, as she had often done. She shook her head. She should not be maudlin – the day was beautiful, she had already found a number of wonderful feathers, and it was nearing Christmas. The fact that she was at a Christmas House Party, where she knew no one else, and at which her mother desperately hoped she would attract the attention of the Duke strongly enough to get him to court her, should not be allowed to spoil her pleasure in the day.
Determination filled her. She would do her best. She needed to marry well, if she possibly could, for her family was, although titled, rather poor.
Still, the thought of conversing with the Duke sent chills through her. She was hopeless at acceptable social conversation – she was far too honest, too blunt, too prone to answering questions before considering what would be the most polite thing to say. And, whilst she was by no means ugly, she was not beautiful – she was, instead, ordinary, and only stood out in company because of her dreadful dark red hair.
She pushed those thoughts aside with a sigh – there was nothing she could do to change any of it.
Both sides of the lane she was walking down were lined by high hedges of holly bushes, blocking the view of the fields beyond. The ground beneath her feet was crusted with frost, which crunched at every step, but there had been no snow for days. Ahead of her, she could see that the lane turned, but she could see no further than that bend. She would, she supposed, discover what was there, as soon as she reached that spot – but right now, she stopped – for, caught in the prickly leaves of the bushes, high up, was a magnificent, brilliantly white feather – from a gull, she suspected.
She carefully set down her small covered basket, and stepped as close to the hedge as she could, without suffering too many pricklings from the leaves, and reached up for the feather. She was too short. Her fingertips were still inches below it. She tried jumping, but her pelisse snagged on the leaves, and she nearly fell. Carefully untangling herself, she tried again.
She still failed to capture the feather, but this time, as she dropped back towards the ground, she collided with something, hard.
*****
Rafe had risen before dawn, and slipped out of the house to walk across the fields, and along the cliffs. The crisp air shocked him fully awake, and sight of the dawn above the sea was familiar and reassuring, reminding him that beauty still existed, naturally. A reminder he needed when he currently had a house full of young ladies whose beauty was so artificial as to seem almost theatrical.
Now, he was striding down the lane, going back towards the house. If he was not visible in the breakfast room soon, his mother would nag at him again. It was his own fault, he supposed – he had vowed to her that he would find a woman to marry by this Christmas, but the year had gone by alarmingly fast, and here he was, still not betrothed, and therefore holding this damned house party.
Just the thought of it ruffled the calm he had achieved. He walked faster, almost charging around the bend in the lane – and ran straight into something – someone… instinctively, his arms went out, to catch whoever it was.
And that made it instantly apparent that it was a woman. Her back was to him, and his arms had ended up around her waist. The front of the skirts of her pelisse seemed to be entangled in the hedge, and her rather plain bonnet was askew on her head. That fact revealed a mass of curling dark red hair which was quite magnificent. Which also tickled his nose.
He moved, carefully adjusting his grip on her, and reached out with one hand to untangle her skirts from the hedge. Thus released, she turned in his arms, which meant that she was almost pressed against him, face to face.
Deep violet toned eyes met his. For a moment, he forgot to breathe. There was nothing artificial about the face before him. No cosmetics enhanced it – it was perfect, just as it was.
Her lips, as naturally dark red as that hair, parted in surprise, and she blushed. He should release her – such an intimate hold on an unchaperoned young woman he did not know was well and truly beyond the bounds of propriety.
But he did not. Instead, he had the shocking urge to kiss those lips which were so very close to his.
“I… I’m sorry… I was… I fell…”
Her voice was as natural and beautiful as the rest of her. But it jolted him out of his daze, and he rapidly released her, first making sure that she was stable on her feet. He stepped back a pace, putting a safe distance between them. A tiny frown crossed her brow, as if she had not wished him to move – but that was a silly conceit – no woman would want to be unceremoniously manhandled in a country lane.
“There’s no need to apologise. I was thinking, walking too fast, and not looking where I was going. I am sure that you would have been quite all right if I had not collided with you.”
She blushed again, and turned her eyes away from him for a moment.
“If I had not been distracted, I might have seen you coming, rather than being in a position to be collided with.”
He looked at her – distracted? What did she mean? What had she been doing? There was nothing here but the frosted ground of the lane, and the high hedges bordering it.
“Distracted? What were you doing, that distracted you, and got your skirts caught in the hedge?”
She blushed again, a deep red, seeming intensely embarrassed, then lifted a hand to point upwards. At first, he had no idea what she was pointing at – then he realised that there was something white, stuck amongst the leaves, quite high up.
“I… I was trying to reach the feather. Sadly, I am too short to do so – and being holly, it’s not the sort of hedge I can scramble into…”
Rafe felt his eyebrow rise – why would she want a feather? But he did not ask – it was none of his business, and if the Lady wanted a feather, there was no reason she shouldn’t have it. He reached up, carefully extracted it from the prickly leaves, and presented it to her with a bow.
She took it with a curtsey.
“Thank you. I… I’ll be on my way now. I am sorry for disrupting your walk.”
She scooped up a small covered basket, which he had not noticed until that moment, slipped the feather into it, and set off down the lane. He stood and watched her go, bemused, and more than a little intrigued. She rounded the bend and disappeared from his view.
He had no idea who she was. And suddenly, that felt like a bad thing.
He shook his head, and set off again, walking as fast as he could, but now paying far more attention to his surroundings.
*****
Charity stopped as soon as she had gone a little way past the bend in the lane.
She was shaking.
That had been… she was almost certain that had been… the Duke. The man whose house party sh
e was attending, with her mother. The man her mother hoped would find her so attractive that he would want to marry her.
And he had discovered her leaping about in a country lane like a small child, chasing a feather. She was mortified.
It was bad enough that she was plain, that they couldn’t afford a better quality of gowns for her, that she was awkward in social situations, but now, she’d made the kind of first impression on a man which almost certainly guaranteed that he would find her laughable. No one understood why she collected feathers – in fact, almost no one knew that she did. Nor did they know what she did with them.
For what she did was perilously unrespectable, for it amounted to partaking in trade. The fact that the money she made from it was necessary to their survival at times did not make it any better. In the eyes of the ton, if it became known, she would be a pariah.
Once the shakes settled, she walked on, taking her time before returning to the house, lest she come across him again. At least he had not mocked her for her childishness in seeking a feather, or her foolishness in getting herself caught on the hedge. And he was, of a certainty, the most handsome man she had ever seen. His attire had been of the best, yet simple, of plain colours and sturdy construction. And that moment when his eyes had met hers, as she stood in the circle of his arms - just the memory of it made her blush again.
He had looked at her as if he found her desirable. Which was quite the most wonderful thing which had ever happened to her.
She laughed at the thought. It had been disastrous, and wonderful, all at the same time. But she had best make sure that she was perfectly presented this afternoon, that she pretended their meeting had never occurred, and that she prayed he did not tell others of it, as an anecdote to laugh about.
That thought made her shiver with fear.
Her family depended on her – she had to marry well, and soon, or, after two years of poor crops, their crippling debts would become impossible.
The Duke's Christmas Vow: Regency Romance Page 1