Her Determined Duke: Clean Regency Romance

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by Arietta Richmond




  Clean Regency Romance

  Her Determined Duke

  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: 978-1-925915-70-9

  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 this new 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

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Here is your preview of Her Absent Duke

  Prologue

  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

  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) (coming soon)

  An Enchantress for an Earl (Violet) (coming soon)

  A Maiden for a Marquess (Iris) (coming soon)

  A Heart for an Heir (Thorne) (coming soon)

  A Beauty for a By-Blow (Thomas) (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

  Standalone Books

  The Scottish Governess

  Her Summer Duke

  Her Passionate Duke

  Her Absent Duke

  Her Determined Duke

  Her Christmas Duke (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 (coming soon)

  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.)

  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)

  Other Books

  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 (coming soon)

  Chapter One

  “Anne, where is George?” Lady Elizabeth Chartwell asked abruptly, stopping in her tracks, and turning to her sister. The quiet of Hyde Park in the morning surrounded them.

  “George?” Anne’s call went unanswered. The women looked at each other, with panic rising, then began turning in all directions, searching for the five-year-old. “George!”

  Then Anne, Lady Carsteade, suddenly screamed, rushing towards the cobblestoned street, which was visible just outside the Park gate they were passing.

  Elizabeth spun back from her examination of the Park to see her sister running, all propriety forgotten, towards the street.

  George was crouching on the cobblestones, picking up small pebbles, oblivious to the dirt he fossicked in, or the world around him. Meanwhile, a carriage hurtled down the street, its driver distracted, obviously not expecting much foot traffic this early in the day, and unaware of the child in his path.

  The sisters ran forward, Anne far ahead of Elizabeth, but it was hopeless – it would be impossible to reach the child in time. As Anne let out a sob and Elizabeth felt a terrible sinking in her stomach, a man appeared from the other side of the street, flinging himself with incredible speed into the path of the oncoming carriage to scoop George up and roll with him to the road’s edge, mere seconds before the hooves of the team and the black wheels of the carriage clattered swiftly by.

  Elizabeth barely glanced at the man who was now rising to his feet, as Anne rushed past her to get to her son, who was lying on the ground beside his
rescuer, scuffed and dirty, but otherwise apparently unharmed. Elizabeth verified that the child was safe before turning her attention to his saviour. The man stood quietly, observing, mopping his brow with his coat sleeve, seemingly unconcerned about the dirt which now besmirched his attire. He lifted his gaze from the child and his mother, and met Elizabeth’s eyes. She froze, the world stilling utterly around her, as an incredulous grin spread across his handsome face.

  Anne was fussing over her son, wiping the dirt off his clothes, tears streaking her face. She was shaking from the shock of it all, but relief was settling into her, for she had regained her ability to speak.

  “My dear son – George, never, never go into the street, do you hear?” That said, still holding George’s hand, she looked towards his rescuer. Her eyes widened a little, and a small frown crossed her brow as she hastily stood and brushed away her tears, a little embarrassed, and peered at the stranger who had saved George. “Thank you so much – you saved his life.”

  Beside her, the boy seemed utterly unperturbed by his hair-raising near accident, and only said with a small pout, “That man pushed me.”

  The man laughed and said, “My apologies, young man.”

  Elizabeth remained silent, still frozen, saved only when the man before her broke eye contact to look at her sister. Her heart was pounding, and her mouth was dry. Not from the shock of what had nearly happened to George. No, not that – but from something far worse.

  Anne, oblivious to Elizabeth’s frozen state, spoke again.

  “I believe we may have met, sir.”

  Anne’s voice held curiosity, as she held firmly onto George with one hand while trying to tidy her hair with the other. The man bowed and smiled a little wistfully.

  “Indeed. Three years ago, I believe.”

  He spoke to Anne, but looked at Elizabeth.

  Elizabeth looked away.

  “Oh, now I remember! Blackstone – of course. But then, you were known to me as Lord Gavin Villiers then. That is, of course, no excuse. I apologise for not recognising you immediately, Your Grace. You called often on Elizabeth, did you not? I offer my condolences for the loss of your father – years late, I know, but I did not have the chance to offer them, then. I never met him, but it was said that he was a good man.”

  “Thank you.”

  His deep voice resonated within her, and Elizabeth shivered, assaulted by memories. As Anne chattered on, Blackstone often looked at her, smiling politely, but kept most of his gazes for her younger sister. Elizabeth stood there, unable to bring herself to move, even though part of her wanted to simply turn and walk away.

  “Elizabeth, do you remember His Grace?”

  Anne turned to Elizabeth, obviously wondering why her sister, who was usually so socially adept, was standing there, mute, and ungracious.

  “Of course.”

  Elizabeth’s reply was murmured and barely audible. She kept her eyes fixed somewhere in the distance. After a moment of slightly awkward silence, during which Anne looked surreptitiously between Blackstone and Elizabeth, she went on, chattering as Anne always did, determined to fill that void with sound.

  “I do hope that we see you again while you are in London, Your Grace. You have not been in London for quite some time, I believe?” As Blackstone hesitated, she gave a disarming smile, “Oh, forgive me – I should not pry.”

  Blackstone laughed and ran a hand through his shoulder length hair. It was a rich mid brown, and tied back in what had been a neat queue until he had rolled across the cobbles to save George. He looked just as Elizabeth remembered him; tall and lean, but with a well-developed figure which showed to advantage in his exquisitely cut morning attire – attire now sadly stained and scraped by the cobbles of the street. He had the same carefree laugh, the same roguish expression – it was as though they had stepped back in time three years, and nothing had changed. But of course, everything had.

  Then he spoke.

  “Yes, I have not been in London for some time. There was the year of mourning, of course, and my duties to the estates, but then I travelled for some time, as part of that. But I found that I missed certain things about London for every second I was away.”

  He looked at Elizabeth, who only raised an eyebrow incredulously. The implication contained in that remark was obvious – at least to her. It seemed that Gavin Villiers, the Duke of Blackstone, was still the same flirt. He might hope that his charm would earn him a smile, or more, but he was sadly mistaken. He might be the same, but other things had changed, irrevocably… and he could not simply pretend that it hadn’t happened. This wasn’t three years ago.

  Anne didn’t seem to have noticed the tension between the Duke of Blackstone and her sister - she was chattering on about how good travel was for the mind, especially when there was business to put in order. Elizabeth stood there, resolutely silent, as her sister chattered on and on. She wondered that Blackstone did not put a stop to the conversation – for surely he found it uninteresting.

  Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, she realised that the conversation was coming to an end, and Anne and Blackstone were making their goodbyes. When he bowed deeply to her, his eyes having rarely left her face, she inclined her head with barely a glance to acknowledge his presence, and dipped into the barest hint of a curtsey. Her voice was soft as she spoke the minimum words required by politeness.

  “Good day to you, Your Grace.”

  Then he was gone, and she stared after him with a mix of regret and resentment. That he could affect her so strongly, after all this time, had shocked her. She had thought herself better inured to her circumstances than that.

  “Well, thank goodness for that man,” Anne commented as she retrieved George’s cap from the street and gave it to him. “George, in future, no running towards the horses, or onto any street at all, do you hear?”

  The boy nodded, but Elizabeth was quite sure that, like so many children, he had ignored the words. As they walked the short distance to where their carriage was waiting, Anne turned to her sister.

  “Oh Elizabeth, you must remember the Duke of Blackstone, surely? Why did you not say anything? You looked like you had seen a ghost, you were so white and still. I wonder that he did not think you unconscionably rude. Isn’t he the one who used to call often during your Season? I seem to remember that you two were close – close enough that we perhaps expected a proposal….”

  Elizabeth turned away, wishing that she could just forget about Blackstone once and for all.

  “No, Anne. You must be mistaken.”

  *****

  Gavin Villiers, the Duke of Blackstone, walked away from the woman who had held his heart for nigh on four years now. The woman he had abandoned without a word. For very good reasons – but he suspected that her perception of the matter might be different from his. It had been instantly obvious to him that he had not been forgiven.

  His heart ached.

  He had hoped… but that was foolish. The cold reception he had just been subject to was only to be expected, in the circumstances.

  But he was back now, and so was she. He had not expected to see her in London, for he had been informed that she had spent the last three years shut away at her family’s country estate.

  As the Season progressed, it was inevitable that they would see each other. And when they did, he would be as charming as possible, and pray that she softened towards him. The thought that she might not was one which he was not willing to countenance.

  Would she see the changes in him? Or would she think him the same rakish fool he had been before? Everything he had done, everything he had changed within himself, in this last three years, had been because of her, for her – but could it ever be enough?

  He did not know, but he was determined to find out.

  If, through his foolishness, he had lost her forever, so be it – but he prayed, with every ounce of his soul, that he had not lost her, that there was a chance…

  *****

  Elizab
eth spent the rest of the day shut away in her rooms, claiming a megrim as a result of the stressful events of the morning. In truth, she felt the need to hide from her sister’s all too perceptive gaze, and her persistent conversation.

  Anne had married a Viscount six years previously, a love match, and had ever since tried to play matchmaker for her younger sister.

  It was not an activity which Elizabeth wanted her to pursue.

  Elizabeth could have her pick of men - during her Season three years ago, she had been the most sought-after young woman at all of the fashionable balls. She’d had many suitors, and Anne had been sure, at the time, that at least a couple of them would ask for Elizabeth’s hand – and had told her sister so, repeatedly.

  But for some inexplicable reason, at least inexplicable from Anne’s point of view, none of them did. Anne had been disappointed, and sure that her sister was crushed - but despite Anne’s probing, Elizabeth had refused to provide her sister with any commentary on her opinion of the circumstances, much to Anne’s frustration.

  At the end of that Season, Elizabeth had chosen simply to return to their family home in the country, to live a more countrified social life. As the daughter of an Earl, who was also the Magistrate for the district surrounding his estate, she was welcomed everywhere in the county. But when her father had suggested that she return to London for the following year’s Season, she had chosen not to, and had stood firm in that choice, despite her parents’ attempts to change her mind.

  This year, at Anne’s pleading for a visit, she had made the decision to return to London. Perhaps enough time had passed… Now, in London, she found herself surrounded by hopeful young men, for despite having reached the age of twenty-one, she was still pretty, and had a sizeable dowry as well. She was not at all sure that she wanted suitors, but it seemed that she had them, regardless.

  The two sisters, separated by five years, could not have been more different, although both were acknowledged beauties. Anne had chestnut eyes and dark hair, which she usually wore in a pile of loose seeming knots on top of her head, with tight curls framing her oval face. She was talkative, friendly, and straightforward – at least as much so as the polite strictures of the ton allowed.

 

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