The Lovely Duckling (Fiery Tales Book 8)

by Lila DiPasqua

  She sobbed with joy and rapture, her sex wildly contracting around his plunging shaft, milking him until he’d spent his final drop.

  Her breathing and her thundering heart slowed; her legs and arms were lax.

  Emilie’s entire body hummed with satisfaction. And bliss.

  He swept her up in his arms and deposited her tenderly on the bed.

  Lying beside her, he pulled her to him. “You’re going to let me stay the night.”

  She smiled. “Is that an order?”

  Joseph returned her smile. “Take it any way you wish. I’m not leaving.”

  “I know. That’s why I love you.” Slipping her hand behind his head, she pulled him to her for a kiss. She was lying completely naked and comfortable in his arms—loved and in love.

  The transformation was complete.

  By the magic of this man, Emilie de Sarron had indeed changed from an ugly duckling to a most beautiful swan.

  Historical Tidbit

  If you’ve read my other Fiery Tales, you know that I enjoy sharing some of the interesting background research, and the real historical figures I use to help shape the characters and stories in this series. I love giving you a behind-the-scenes look into my books.

  However, this time what shaped this story was a little bit of history—but mostly three contemporary incredible sisters I happen to see on TV.

  You see, the idea for THE LOVELY DUCKLING came to me in Washington, D.C. while at the RWA conference. I had just landed my first contract with Penguin. I jumped on a plane, and flew down to meet my agent and editor in person for the first time.

  I knew that while I was in Washington my editor wanted to discuss if I’d like to write more steamy, fairy tale inspired stories. My agent asked if I thought I could come up with three more fairy tales, set in a historical setting, and give them an interesting twist.

  My answer—Heck, yes!

  I’ve always loved The Ugly Duckling. I really wanted to do my own version of this wonderful tale. I tried to come up with different ways to make my heroine “ugly”. Different things that would make her feel unattractive. I dismissed them all, one after another.

  Then, in my hotel room, while I was getting ready for dinner, I had the TV on.

  There was a news feature about three sisters—beautiful women—triplets. They were taking about the fire they were in as infants. A fire that had claimed their mother’s life. These twenty-two year old women talked about how difficult it was growing up. The incessant teasing and horrible taunts they endured. How they always wore long-sleeved clothing—no matter the temperature—to cover up the scars on their bodies and arms.

  I was moved by their courage. And by the two boyfriends two of these women were dating. By the end of the feature, I think I was a tad in love with them, too. One of the guys had been dating one of the triplets for two years and hadn’t even seen her bare arms—until one hot summer night. That was the night he finally convinced her to remove her sweatshirt. (He knew she wore a t-shirt underneath and that she was uncomfortable, given the heat). As she explained to the reporter, she finally got the nerve to show him her scars. She said to him (with tears in her eyes), “Here I am. Take me or leave me!”

  Her boyfriend is definitely hero material. He relayed to the reporter that his response, after taking in the deeply scarred skin was, “I’ll take you.”

  Seriously, I was in tears myself. And that was the moment both Emilie de Sarron and Joseph d’Alumbert were born in my imagination.

  As to the historical tidbits in this story, the salacious gathering depicted in this Fiery Tale were common in seventeenth century France. And as it happened to Emilie in THE LOVELY DUCKLING, so too were lawsuits over guardianship of a minor child with wealth. Families often fought for custody so that they would have control of the child’s fortune until they came of age. Sadly, fighting over family money isn’t a modern day concept.

  The glittering court of Louis XIV wasn’t just salacious and elegant. It was the very time period that the father of fairy tales, Charles Perrault—author of The Tales of Mother Goose—wrote stories that have delighted generations: Sleeping Beauty, Little Red Riding Hood, Puss in Boots and Cinderella to name a few.

  I hope you enjoyed your time in the opulent world when fairy tales were born. Please see the end for a delicious excerpt of yet another Fiery Tale!

  Happy reading!

  Lila

  Glossary

  Antechamber—The sitting room in a lord’s or lady’s private apartments (chambers) within their hôtel or château.

  Caleçons—Drawers/underwear.

  Chambers—Another word for private apartments. A lord’s or lady’s chambers consisted of a bedroom, a sitting room, a bathroom, and a cabinet (office). Some chambers were bigger and more elaborate than others. Some cabinets were so large, they were used for private meetings.

  Chère—Dear one. (French endearment for a woman, cher for a man).

  Chérie—Darling or cherished one. (French endearment for a woman, chéri for a man).

  Comte/Comtesse—Count/Countess.

  Dieu—God.

  Duc/Duchesse—Duke/Duchess.

  Hôtel/Château—The upper class and the wealthy bourgeois (middle class) often had a city mansion in Paris (hôtel) in addition to their palatial country estate(s) (château).

  Justacorps—A fitted knee-length coat, worn over a man’s vest and breeches.

  Merde—Shit.

  Ma belle—My beauty. (French endearment for a woman).

  Seigneur Dieu—Lord God.

  Read an Excerpt of

  The Princess & the Diamonds

  Inspired by the tale of The Princess & the Pea, a hot historical romance novella from the acclaimed Fiery Tales series.

  Princess Gabrielle can’t sleep at night. There is something hard in her bed. No, not just the stolen diamonds tucked under her mattress, but the handsome Marquis on it….whose talent in the art of pleasure she can’t resist. But he threatens her secret mission, and worse, she stands to lose far more than the diamonds—her heart is at stake….

  Mathias is on a mission of his own. The last person he expected to find in an illegal gaming den was a mysterious beauty. The intensity of their attraction takes him off guard. And soon he realizes he may have found the only woman he can’t get enough of…

  ***Originally published in THE PRINCESS IN HIS BED anthology.

  Chapter One

  “Are you absolutely certain you want to do this, Montfort? You’ll be turning on your peers,” Renault de Sard asked from behind his desk.

  Mathias Paul Thomas de Tesson, Marquis de Montfort, found himself seated in the home of the Lieutenant General of Police of Paris, sequestered in his private study—rather than at his public office.

  This was no ordinary meeting. Its secrecy paramount. The mission at hand was to topple some of the highest-ranking nobles of the realm, aristocracy that considered themselves untouchable. Above the law.

  Unfazed by the Lieutenant General’s comment, Mathias sat back in the silk upholstered chair.

  “You need a spy. The King wants his ban on Basset enforced. And I am at your disposal.” He’d been eager since Sard approached him two days ago. In fact, this was the first time since Charles’s death that he felt any fire at all. “Besides, you know as well as I do they turn on each other every time they sit at a Basset table.” He couldn’t keep the disdain from his tone. His disgust wasn’t simply directed at those breaking the King’s new law, but at himself.

  He hadn’t been any different than those who still gambled at the game. Lord knows he was no stranger to the gaming tables. Women and gambling had been his favorite forms of recreation. He’d enjoyed vice. And with his wealth and skill, the monetary losses had been minimal and without detriment.

  Gambling had never really cost him. Until five months ago. Five months ago Basset had cost him the life of his closest friend.

  “Yes, well, I have finally impressed upon His Majesty that if we don�
�t make examples of men of high rank, his edict will continue to be ignored—and more prominent families will be brought to their ruin,” Sard said.

  Mathias didn’t need anyone to explain to him the damage Basset caused. The card game wildly popular among those wealthy enough to play with high stakes, Basset could make or break fortunes in minutes. He’d seen both men and women lose staggering sums.

  Lose everything.

  He’d stopped playing when the King had issued his decree. He only wished Charles had done the same. He’d be alive now. His wife wouldn’t be a widow, and his young daughter would still have her father.

  Charles would never have lost all that he owned—or committed suicide.

  “I quite agree,” Mathias said. “Unless you bring to heel those involved who are of the highest rank, the wealthy will continue to pay the King’s edict no mind.” He stretched out his legs and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you wish me to do, and how soon may I begin?”

  “I like your enthusiasm, Montfort.” Sard smiled. “I need you to gather names. Tell me who the regular players are, who the biggest players are. And of course, most importantly, who the dealer is—the one that minds the bank—and reaps the biggest rewards at the game.”

  Mathias gave the Lieutenant of Police a mirthless smile. “No problem.”

  “Do you have anyone in particular in mind we can focus on? If we’re to make an example of him, he must be highly notable.”

  Mathias’s smile broadened. “I’ve the perfect man to suggest. The Duc de Navers. Is that notable enough for you, Sard?”

  Sard lifted his brows. “A duc?” His brown eyes danced with delight. “Oh, Navers will do just fine. Perfectly, in fact.”

  It was perfect. In so many ways. Charles lost his wealth to Navers. In his very own mansion in the city—Hôtel de Navers—the Duc was making a fortune from his biweekly private gaming den. Right under the nose of the Paris police. Without concern. Or regard for the royal edict.

  Navers wasn’t the only noble who hosted Basset games. But he was the one Mathias wanted to focus on.

  “Navers’s games are masked,” Mathias added. “Only those with funds enough to play are permitted. That includes any wealthy merchants from the bourgeois. The mask allows for anonymity, and makes everyone equal while playing Basset, regardless of title. Money is the only thing that is held in esteem at the gaming table. If you lose everything, then and only then are you unmasked. Before you’re permitted to leave the table, you are made to sign your ruin.”

  At that Sard frowned. “How will you know who is who?”

  “I’ve played many years with the same people. It won’t be difficult for me to determine who is in attendance. Mannerisms, expressions of speech are not covered by a mask. Neither is a man’s or woman’s style of play. No one will go unreported.”

  “And you’ve no conflict of conscience or qualms in advising me of each and every person there?” Sard pressed. Clearly the man wanted to be assured of his commitment to the mission.

  “None,” he said without hesitation. “The rule in Basset is that you have no friends.” He didn’t have any friends left. At least none like Charles.

  For him and his family, for others who’d suffered the same fate and for any further such tragedies, he was going to put an end to Basset once and for all.

  Nothing and no one was going to stop him.

  *****

  “Is there anything I can say that will stop you from doing this?” Bernadette asked, worried.

  “Or I?” Caroline looked just as concerned.

  “No.” Gabrielle’s response was unequivocal as she studied her attire in the mirror with a critical eye. “I think it looks perfect. The binding around my chest is a tad too tight.” She squirmed, uncomfortable. “But overall, I think I’ll pass for a man.”

  She was taller than most women. For once, her height was an asset.

  Bernadette sighed. “I’ll loosen it a bit, but you do have breasts, Gabrielle. You are a woman. For God’s sake, you’re a princess wearing men’s clothing. This mad plan of yours has me worried sick.”

  “Everything will be fine.” Gabrielle removed the blue satin justacorps she wore and handed it to Caroline. She fumbled with the closures on her breeches a bit before opening them and pulling out the shirttails.

  Her plan had her more than a little anxious, too, but she refused to show her unease to her two closest confidantes, her ladies-in-waiting. Both distant cousins, they were a few years older than Gabrielle and the only ones she trusted to take with her on this secret trip from the Palace of Versailles to Paris.

  The only ones she’d divulged her true intentions to. There were only three people she trusted in the world, her half brother Daniel and the two women before her.

  “Hold up your arms,” Bernadette said, slipping her hands under the shirt and loosening the binding around Gabrielle’s breasts. “There, is that better?”

  Gabrielle took a deep breath. “Much better.” She readjusted her clothing and accepted the justacorps Caroline handed to her.

  “What if the King realizes you’re not in the country with your uncle at his château?” Bernadette asked.

  “Never mind that.” Caroline waved off Bernadette’s comment. “What if His Majesty learns you stole some of the royal diamonds and intend to gamble them at the Basset table? He’s put a ban on the game.” She shook her blond head. “I don’t even want to think about what he would do!”

  “The King has done nothing to enforce the ban. And as for the diamonds, I didn’t steal them. I’m borrowing them. Stealing implies I intend to keep them. I don’t,” Gabrielle said. “They’ll be returned once I win enough to cover Daniel’s debt.” Listening to Caroline carry on only spiked her fears. She knew what she was doing was risky, but what choice did she have? “I’ll not abandon him. He is barely seventeen and they took advantage of him.”

  Her half brother was not in the habit of gambling. He was coaxed and bamboozled into it, and it infuriated her.

  “At seventeen, he is a man, has been a man for two years now. He should have known better than to gamble and lose a vast fortune—at an illegal game,” Caroline argued.

  “There are those twice his age, and older, who have been lured to the Basset tables,” Gabrielle countered. She adored Daniel and was crushed when her mother, who had once been the King’s mistress, passed away. She’d lost her mother and Daniel in the same week. He was removed from the palace—sent to live with his father’s family. The King having legitimized all his illegitimate children from his many mistresses had lost interest in her mother once Gabrielle was born. She’d married the Baron de Leclerc, Daniel’s father, shortly thereafter, but sadly he’d died within the first year of their marriage.

  The King had permitted Daniel and her mother to remain at the palace, close to Gabrielle, but once her mother was gone, her beloved brother was torn from her. He was only eight.

  They’d been inseparable until then.

  She wrote to him constantly. Worried about him always. Missed him madly, for she rarely saw him.

  When he came to her last week and told her what had happened at the Duc de Navers’s Hôtel, Gabrielle was devastated for him.

  He was in financial ruin. He couldn’t pay his servants. Couldn’t maintain his château.

  She refused to see him financially destroyed. It was difficult enough seeing him so heartbroken and dispirited. Daniel would do anything for her. No matter what. She, in turn, would do anything for him. Including taking some of the Crown gems and using them to win back Daniel’s fortune.

  “I’ll not see my brother destitute, Caroline.” Gabrielle picked up the periwig off the bed and placed it over her hair. If she didn’t help him, no one else would. No one in his father’s family or on her mother’s side would wish to cover his gambling debt. Especially one so sizable.

  And the King had never cared in the least about Daniel.

  Bernadette swiped an errant curl from her cheek, her dark hai
r a sharp contrast to Caroline’s fair coloring. “We don’t wish to see him destitute either. We’re just … well, we’re most concerned about your scheme.”

  “I know you are.” Gabrielle placed her hand on Bernadette’s shoulder. “But I am no novice at Basset. I’ve played many times at court with His Majesty and the courtiers—until the King banned the game. I’ll do fine.” She was far better than most. “I’m not without wit and luck,” Gabrielle added.

  One didn’t survive the politics and intrigue at court without having a good dose of both.

  Or without being resourceful and clever.

  Gabrielle had fooled His Majesty into believing she was visiting with her uncle. Fooled her uncle into allowing her the use of his private townhouse in the city while he was at his château. With no funds at her disposal—for members of the royal family didn’t carry coin—she’d thought of a solution and slipped away from the palace with a pouch of diamonds. She’d even managed to turn her entourage of musketeers back to the palace without raising suspicion.

  Trickery and deception weren’t things she liked. But they were part of her world and deeply entrenched in the royal palace.

  Being a convincing liar was more than an essential asset at court.

  Her skills in dupery were finely honed after her mother’s death. Only then, when she found herself alone in the palace without her mother’s protection, did she learn just how much her mother had shielded her from. Duplicity hadn’t come easy to her at first. Her conscience had weighed on her in the beginning.

  Now she was numb to it.

  Besides, desperate situations required desperate measures.

  She had two weeks.

  Clearly, luck was on her side; she’d made it to her uncle’s townhouse in Paris. From here she had easy access to the Duc de Navers’s gaming den at his Hôtel—and what amounted to four nights of Basset.

  If she was to succeed in recouping Daniel’s losses and not lose the diamonds she’d gamble with, luck had to remain on her side.