A Scandalous Love for the Enticing Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Henrietta Harding

  A Scandalous Love for the Enticing Duke

  A REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL

  HENRIETTA HARDING

  Copyright © 2018 by Henrietta Harding

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the publisher.

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  Table of Contents

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  A Scandalous Love for the Enticing Duke

  Introduction

  When Eleanor Birmingham finds herself enchanted by Nicholas, a stranger who seems as though he had just walked out of one of her favourite books, she gets a taste of what love could feel like. She never expected to find exactly what she was looking for! However, it seems that luck is not on her side, for the tempting stranger who had spoken to her heart and soul, is the same man who is to be married to her eldest sister! Trying to avoid this undeniable attraction, will she be able to put reason over her growing passion?

  Agnes Birmingham has found the one and only since she came to know what love is. Despite her parents’ efforts, she has refused men for years, in hopes that one day, her scandalous affair with her merchant would finally be out in the open. But this would not be the case anymore. When she finds herself forced to marry, how can she do this deed, when her heart belongs to another man?

  Isabelle Birmingham, the youngest daughter of the family, despite being flighty and flirty, she is a total dear at heart! When she unearths the dilemma her sisters have found themselves in, she decides to take action! Enlisting the help of Nicholas’s best friend and her archenemy, she seeks to give everyone their happy ending. But all the while, will she also find hers?

  Three couples against society rules, and a mother who stood only for status and title. She would stop at nothing to see her daughters married to men of title and equal social standing...

  Chapter 1

  The gloom in the dark chamber could be felt as soon as one stepped into it. One needed not to glance around, to take in the situation before a guess could be made. The discomforting smell of medicine scented in the air, along with blood that had just been bled out, making it obvious that someone in this room, was down with a serious ailment.

  The chamber’s glory shone poorly in this state. The tapestries and curtains had been brought down to guard Henry Stamford’s eyes, which now hurt from too much sunlight. Hence, the chamber was cast in a dimness that did little to show off the expensive furnishings of the chamber. The bed, made from the finest wood money could buy, the wooden floors which shone with glory, reflecting the sun’s goodness, the chairs that the Duke had specially ordered to be sent down from Greece, and the vanity from the best wood maker in Italy. Yes, indeed, Henry Stamford was a man of style, and he had this house that was art to many, to show for that. Sadly, here he was, on his sick bed, unable to stand and move around by himself, to admire the work he had taken years to put together and many more years to adore. Even when he did manage to, from his confinement, the beauty was nothing compared to what it was, under the grace of nature’s light. It was one of the things that made his soul weary, as his hope for recovery dwindled daily.

  Still, all of these unpleasantries did not hinder his carersfrom making sure he got the necessary attention required. His servants moved around, getting rid of what dirt lay around. By his side, his wife, Elizabeth Stamford, sat, holding his frail hands as they waited for the servants to leave so that the doctor would commence his examination. As soon as it was just them in the room together with his valet, Callaghan, and his doctor, Mr Wimpletton, his examinations began.

  He watched as Doctor Wimpletton opened the wooden box that contained his tools and brought out a stethoscope. Henry knew what was to come next –Wimpletton would request for him to be blindfolded, so that the curtains could be raised for better light. Right on cue, Wimpletton spoke.

  “Err... If you would please, have His Grace blindfolded so that we may raise the curtain for better lighting.”

  Callaghan marched over to him, to cover his eyes with a piece of black cravat. Momentarily blinded, he heightened his other senses so that he could be aware of what was happening around him. Callaghan’s distinctive footfalls sounded, and a few seconds later, the room felt brighter.

  Henry felt Wimpletton bend over him and knew that the doctor now had his ears close to his chest to get his heartbeat. It was steady; he would tell Wimpletton that, if only he asked. That was unlikely, for it was common knowledge that the man liked to see and hear things for himself.

  “His blood is still dark?”

  Elizabeth gave a huge, sad sigh, and his heart ached. He hated seeing her this way.

  “A little. It started to look lighter this morning. It worries me so, Mr Wimpletton. Whatever does this mean?”

  “I really cannot say, Your Grace. The ailment that befalls the Duke is likened to none I have ever witnessed in my thirteen years of practice. I declare, it really is something to cause a wonder. A thing of befuddlement, I must confess.” He stopped at that and went back to Henry’s upper form.

  He was still blindfolded, but he knew Wimpletton was observing him, thanks to the sunlight that now spilled into the room, making that easier to do. Earlier that morning, Elizabeth had told him that he still looked pale with sorrow in her eyes. Still,he felt flushed with the fever that ailed him. His lips were chapped, almost birthing scales, and his hair was starting to thin out. He felt so weak and tired, every day he seemed to wake up with a new pain.

  He had to be strong; he knew this. But sometimes, his predicament saddened him so much, that tears filled his eyes. He desperately wished that this strange sickness would be over. That by some stroke of luck, what ailed him would be diagnosed so that appropriate treatment could commence. Unfortunately, wishes were not horses, and even a man of status and enormous wealth like him could not afford to ride.

  He remained still as Wimpletton took his hand, held it gently, and then pressed two fingers to the streams of veins on his wrist to take his pulse. The room stayed quiet – no one had any interest indistracting the physician from his work with the slightest noise.

  Wimpletton finally released his hands, but not before placing them carefully on the bed, lest they fell with a thud. His voice filled the air as he broke the silence.

  “You may release the curtains and remove the blindfold.” At the doctor’s instructions, Callaghan dropped the curtains and walked back to his master to remove the blindfold.

  Henry flexed the muscles of his eyes as the cravat came off, trying to adjust to the dim lighting. He finally focussed on Wimpletton who was now at his feet, reaching for the leeches that had been used to suture the cut on his left foot. He held a breath and pressed his lips together, swallowing the pain as Wimpletton yanked the terrible insects off.

  The physician seemed to have sensed his agony, for he muttered, “My apologies.” The
n as he rose from his bending position,“I have removed the leeches for it seems His Grace has been bled enough for this week. He needs his rest, and I do not want to drain him of all his blood. I shall continue to correspond with my colleagues in the country and overseas, but I must confess, I am not entirely certain about the outcome of this.”

  “Mr Wimpletton, I beg you not to mince words with me,”Henry finally spoke, taking great care to do so, for even talking these days, required great energy.

  “Is there hope for a recovery? Or shall this be my deathbed? If so, then you must tell me in plain words so I shall begin to put my affairs in order. I might have lived a life not as long as I would have loved to, but I shall not deny it has been a life well lived. If I have to go soon, I do not mind. I only do not want to be taken by surprise.” He needed to know.

  Wimpletton said nothing for a while. He seemed to be in great thoughts, and Henry wondered just what it was he was thinking. Perhaps he was considering how best to break the news of his imminent death to him. When he finally spoke, Henry knew he had been right.

  “Your Grace. I am deeply sorry and sad to tell you this. You have been on this sickbed for over two months, and I have seen no improvements. From a professional point of view, I do not think you shall overcome this, My Lord. A different case, it would have been, if we could diagnose this ailment, but as it holds, that is yet to happen. I will suggest you do as you have just said. Put your affairs in order and prepare your household. You may be taken from us at any time. Right now, we can only pray. The Lord be with you, My Lord.”

  He bowed as he finished speaking and began to gather his things into his wooden toolbox. No one said anything;they were too busy swallowing the implication of the doctor’s words. Henry watched as Callaghan turned away, and he gave a grim smile. There was very little doubt that his dear valet and friend of many years was shedding a tear or two. Beside him, he heard quiet sniffling and adjusted his head so he could look at his wife. Indeed, she too was crying and her tears rolled down her cheeks in un-hushed streams.

  It felt like a heavy morsel clogged his throat as he watched those tears flow. Oh, how much he hated to see her so sad, watch her cry over his bed every now and then, hear her sobs when she thought he was asleep. He knew that this was taking a huge toll on her and more for this woman he loved than himself, he prayed hard that he recovered from this. Summoning more strength from within, he swallowed the lump in his throat and reached for her hands. When he took them in his and squeezed, she looked up at him, all the love she felt evident in her eyes. It overwhelmed him.

  Realising that he was seeing her cry, she hurriedly dashed away the tears with her kerchief. Then she gave him a small smile. He smiled in return, happy to see the tears gone. Elizabeth was strong. Whatever happened, he had to believe that she would pull through just fine. She covered the hand that held her and cleared her throat as she broke eye contact to look at Wimpletton.

  “You said you would contact your colleagues?”

  “That is right, madam.”

  “In the case that no one can offer a definite answer as regards this, do you think there is any treatment you can administer to my husband, so that he could at least be strong enough to move about for his last days? The season is coming, and I would love for him to enjoy one last season. Do you not share the same thoughts, Henry?”She turned to look at Henry who stared at her in wonder. She was brilliant; he knew this.

  “Is this possible, Wimpletton?” he croaked. Why had he not thought of this earlier?

  The physician seemed so lost for words that he stuttered at first. “Your Grace... Th… that is...” A pause to regain his composure, and a sharp clearing of throat as he stood upright and straightened his shoulders.

  “That is a most excellent suggestion, My Lady. We can manage that; I am certain. I will look into medicine that can help the Duke live his last days with more strength. Mayhap, they would not be his last if the Lord answers our prayers.”

  Pleased to hear this, that there was still a little bit of hope, a little candle flickering, but burning nonetheless, he returned his wife’s bright smile as she looked at him again.

  “Do you hear that, Henry? You shall be able to make it to the season.”Whatdid he ever do right in this lifetime to have deserved such a wonderful woman?If this worked, he was going to be on his feet again, be able to move around, to behold sunlight. He felt her tender hands caress his cheeks before turning to Wimpletton who had looked away in their moment of privacy.

  “We shall be waiting to hear from you, Wimpletton. You must understand, if you can get my husband on his feet again, howbeit for such a short period, we shall remain indebted to you. I give you my word as your Lady.”

  Upon hearing this, Wimpletton lowered into a deep, regal bow, more than happy to be of service.

  “If thou wishes it so, My Lady. I am the honoured one for having this opportunity, to do this for my good Lord.” He stretched back to his full length. “If that would be all, with your permission, I shall take my leave.”

  “You may leave, Wimpletton. We shall call for you if any urgent matter arises.”

  “I shall do my best to respond as soon as I can, if any such call should arrive. Good day, Your Grace.”

  He dropped another bow before taking his leave. Elizabeth must have wanted time alone with him, for she called on Callaghan.

  “See Mr Wimpletton off, will you?”

  The valet dropped a bow and followed the doctor out. As they stepped out of the room, they could be heard engaging in small talk. As soon as their voices became faint, Elizabeth hugged her husband, placing her head on his chest as more tears left her eyes.

  “I cannot believe this, Henry. Was it not just yesterday when you were racing me to the stream on Kingston, as strong as an ox? How did we get here so fast?”

  Henry could hear the sadness in his wife’s voice, and it pained him to see her so sad. He knew if this ailment took him, it would be a hard blow on Elizabeth. He worried for her more than he worried for himself. So, needing to take what little of her sadness he could away, he teased.

  “I remember that day as clear as the skies, Elizabeth. I won again, as always. You were so far behind on Queen that I had to return to you. Then you pushed me off Kingston, and before I could get back on, you raced to the stream.”

  Jerking up, she looked at him, flabbergasted, as if unable to believe the ridiculousness of his accusations.

  “Henry Stamford, did you just accuse me of cheating to win that race? Because I remember, quite well for the matter, that you fell off that horse on your own,and you never got to the stream in the first place, talk more of returning to me! I won, fair and square.” She ended with her chin up as he dissolved into a fit of laughter, suddenly feeling stronger with Wimpletton’s promise.

  “Oh Elizabeth. I never would have fallen off my horse in the first place if you had not flashed me your undergarments, intentionally.”

  “I know not what you speak of My Lord. I was riding astride; it is only normal for my clothing to enter a state of disarray. And this is a much different story than the narrative you told earlier,”she ended, pretending to be hurt, but he knew better. It also gladdened him that she had forgotten her sorrow for long enough to play along.

  “I fell; you won. These were constant in both narratives, were they not? I see no lie, dear woman wife. I may be a sick man, but I will not be accused of being a liar.”

  He watched her heart melt before she bent to give him a kiss on the lips. “A fair game, would you not call it, husband man? Since you began with the accusations, after all,”she countered, causing him to break into hearty laughter again. Elizabeth smiled at this, aware that it had been a while since she heard him laugh so heartily.

  “Enough of that. Kiss me again dear wife; remind me of how that particular day ended.”

  She flushed at this, and he knew what she was thinking of. It was the same memory that rang in his mind at this moment. How they had made sweet love by the
river. Tenderly, passionately, like it almost always was with them. When she lowered her head to capture his lips in another soft kiss, he welcomed the sensations.

  “Aye. That is more like it. I cannot wait for Wimpletton to return with the medicine so that I may be able to act that scene fully again.” He ended with a wink, causing her to dissolve into a fit of laughter of her own. Then she lifted her hands to his cheeks and began to stroke, holding his gaze with her pure amethyst eyes.