Dare to be Wicked (Daring Daughters Book 1)

by Emma V Leech

  Dare to be Wicked.

  The Daring Daughters Book 1

  By Emma V. Leech

  Published by Emma V. Leech.

  Copyright (c) Emma V. Leech 2021

  Editing Services: Magpie Literary Services

  Cover Art: Victoria Cooper

  ASIN No: B08FBNPRFT

  ISBN No: 978-2-492133-14-5

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorised, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. The ebook version and print version are licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The ebook version may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share the ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is inferred.

  Other Works by Emma V. Leech

  Daring Daughters

  Daring Daughters Series

  Girls Who Dare

  Girls Who Dare Series

  Rogues & Gentlemen

  Rogues & Gentlemen Series

  The Regency Romance Mysteries

  The Regency Romance Mysteries Series

  The French Vampire Legend

  The French Vampire Legend Series

  The French Fae Legend

  The French Fae Legend Series

  Stand Alone

  The Book Lover (a paranormal novella)

  The Girl is Not for Christmas (Regency Romance)

  Audio Books

  Don’t have time to read but still need your romance fix? The wait is over…

  By popular demand, get many of your favourite Emma V Leech Regency Romance books on audio as performed by the incomparable Philip Battley and Gerard Marzilli. Several titles available and more added each month!

  Find them at your favourite audiobook retailer!

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks, of course, to my wonderful editor Kezia Cole with Magpie Literary Services

  To Victoria Cooper for all your hard work, amazing artwork and above all your unending patience!!! Thank you so much. You are amazing!

  To my BFF, PA, personal cheerleader and bringer of chocolate, Varsi Appel, for moral support, confidence boosting and for reading my work more times than I have. I love you loads!

  A huge thank you to all of Emma’s Book Club members! You guys are the best!

  I’m always so happy to hear from you so do email or message me :)

  emmavleech@orange.fr

  To my husband Pat and my family ... For always being proud of me.

  Table of Contents

  Family Trees

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Epilogue

  Dare to be Brazen

  To Dare a Duke

  The Rogue

  A Dog in a Doublet

  The Key to Erebus

  The Dark Prince

  Want more Emma?

  Family Trees

  Chapter 1

  It is so unfair!

  Why does everyone else get to see the coronation of the new queen but me? I promised to be good and not fidget, and I’m certain my brothers were bored to tears. I cannot wait to be a grown-up like Eliza and Lottie. At least they will tell me all about it when we’re all at Holbrook. Pip and Tom probably fell asleep.

  ―Excerpt of an entry to the diary of Lady Catherine ‘Cat’ Barrington, youngest daughter of the Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu.

  28th June 1838, Beverwyck, London.

  “Oh, my feet hurt!” Lottie wailed as Eliza dragged her up the steps to the front door. “I’ll never dance again.”

  “If only you’d never speak again,” Eliza muttered. After a tedious carriage ride home, the excitement of their long day had given way to exhaustion, and her legendary patience was unravelling with speed.

  “If only you’d not lost my favourite hair clasp.”

  “I apologised for that,” Eliza said calmly and with admirable restraint in the circumstances, forcing herself not to snap. Lottie was tired and irritable, that was all. “I shall replace it.”

  Lord, but her feet hurt! Her head too, and she longed for the sanctuary of her own room and her comfortable bed. Not that she would have missed the coronation of the young Queen Victoria for anything, though if anyone involved had possessed the slightest idea of how the ceremony ought to have proceeded, Eliza was quite certain the thing could have been done in little more than an hour. The five hours it had taken had been interminable and fraught with anxiety, as no one had seemed to know what was going on. There were already mutterings about ‘yet another botched coronation.’ Not a murmur of complaint had passed her lips, however. Whilst her parents had been invited, her father had paid a staggering twenty guineas apiece for the three tickets to admit his eldest children. In his view, such an historic event was not to be missed. Despite her aching head and feet, not to mention her posterior, Eliza was grateful to have been a part of it, even if moments of utter chaos had punctuated all the pomp and ceremony.

  Farce had almost become tragedy as poor Lord Rolles—who was eighty if he was a day—fell down as he attempted a flight of stairs. Miraculously he’d been unhurt, but only the actions of the queen, who had kindly moved towards him to stop him making another attempt, had saved him from further harm and humiliation.

  “I wasn’t the one complaining about being squashed just because I fell asleep.”

  Eliza sighed. Lottie was still harping on, seemingly determined to wear out Eliza’s temper. Lottie was the only person capable of ever undermining Eliza’s unflappable calm, but somehow, she accomplished it with remarkable ease.

  “You drooled on my shoulder,” Eliza said tartly.

  Lottie blushed, glared at her, and opened her mouth to retaliate.

  “Oh, do stop bickering, children,” their brother Jules protested, though at nineteen he was younger than Eliza by four years and Lottie by two. “Honestly, it makes a fellow’s head hurt to be in your company for five minutes together, let alone a day like today. Mama, make them stop.”

  “Children?” Lottie retorted. “I believe you were the one who kept demanding to know when you could go home.”

  “Yes, yes. It has been a trying day,” their mama said, her tone soothing and not quite in line with the pointed look she sent them all. “We are all tired and quarrelsome, so why do we not hold our tongues long enough to shed our hats and coats and go to bed?”

  “Oh, but Mama, I’m star
ving!”

  Jules snorted and opened his mouth to make some comment about Lottie’s capacity to eat at any moment of the day or night, before catching his mother’s glacial look and changing his mind.

  “I shall have a tray sent to your room, dear.”

  Lottie favoured her brother with a smirk before smiling prettily at her mother. “Thank you, Mama.”

  “If you could remain silent for the time it takes you all to reach your own rooms, I should be enormously grateful,” their father remarked, the amusement in his green eyes quite taking the sting out of the reprimand.

  Age had not softened the Duke of Bedwin’s harsh, if handsome, countenance, nor his uncompromising profile, which was the sort that might put one in mind of villains and dark deeds. Though his thick black hair was greying, he was hale and hearty and a force to be reckoned with. Unless, of course, you were their mama. One look from her and he turned to mush. Eliza smiled to herself.

  “Of course, Papa,” she said.

  “Angel,” he murmured fondly as Lottie huffed.

  “You never call me angel,” she grumbled, handing her hat and gloves over to a footman as their butler, young Jenkins, greeted them.

  “I wonder why that could be,” Papa said with a lift of one dark eyebrow. He laughed at her disgruntled expression and bent to kiss her cheek. “Go to bed, my dearest hoyden. I shall send you hot chocolate and cake. Does that soothe your temper?”

  Lottie grinned at him and cast her cloak at an amused looking footman.

  “Of course!” she said and danced up the stairs as if she hadn’t been about to collapse from fatigue just seconds earlier.

  Eliza watched her go and sighed. If only the promise of chocolate and cake could give her such a burst of energy. She was ready to drop.

  “You did very well today, Eliza, I was proud of you—of all of you,” her father amended, resting his hand on Jules’s shoulder as he watched Lottie disappear along the upstairs landing.

  Jules yawned, smothering it behind his hand. “Well, I’m dashed glad, as I’ve never been so bored in all my life. I hope to God the queen has a good long reign in her, for I’ve no desire to endure that performance again any time soon. G’night, Sir, Mama.”

  “Don’t forget we must leave for Holbrook before midmorning,” Mama warned him as he climbed the stairs.

  There was an audible groan of protest, but Jules kept moving, disappearing in the same direction as his sister.

  “Well, goodnight—” Eliza began, only to give a gasp of alarm. “Mama!”

  Her father moved fast, catching her mother about the waist just before she fell,

  “Oh!” Mama raised a hand to her head, her countenance pale. “Oh, dear.”

  “Prue, darling, what is it?” the duke demanded, stricken.

  Eliza’s mother gave them both a rueful expression. “Well, it is a little early to tell yet, but my money is on another girl, around the end of November, if I know anything.”

  “Mama!”

  “Prue! B-But we said… we agreed… no more,” her father exclaimed.

  Mama snorted and returned an arch look. “Don’t look at me like that. I hardly did it all by myself.”

  “Mama,” Eliza said faintly, smothering her mouth with her hand and trying hard not to laugh.

  Her poor father looked as if he needed a drink.

  “Seven!” he said, as if he could argue her into changing her mind about it. “Deuce take it, you impossible creature, we agreed seven was quite enough.”

  Mama shrugged and leaned into the duke, her blue eyes soft with adoration. “But eight is such a nice round number. We shall call her Octavia.”

  Papa sighed and leaned down to kiss her.

  “Darling,” he said helplessly.

  Mama’s maid appeared at the top of the stairs and the duchess smiled up at her. “Perfect timing, Sally.”

  The woman hurried down to her mistress and gave her an arm to lean on.

  The duke stared after her. “Prue, are you quite—”

  “Fit as a fiddle! Just a little tired so don’t start fretting over me, Robert, darling. I will be perfectly fine,” the duchess said with a blithe smile. “Like shelling peas,” she added with a wave of her hand and a snort of laughter as she made her way up the stairs.

  “Shelling peas? Oh, good God, that woman….” her father said.

  He stood, misty-eyed, watching her go—too shocked to move, Eliza suspected.

  “Go to bed, Papa,” Eliza urged him.

  “She’s not as young as she once was,” he said, his voice taut with strain.

  “No, but she really is fit and strong, and far too stubborn to allow anything to disturb her plans for the future. She will be fine, Papa. I’m certain of it.”

  He nodded, a little of the tension leaving his shoulders.

  “She will,” he said, with the determined air of a duke whose word was law. “She will.”

  “Come along,” Eliza said, threading her arm through his. She caught sight of the butler, who had discreetly made himself scarce during Mama’s little revelation. “Jenkins, I think perhaps Mama would like some chocolate too.”

  “At once, Lady Elizabeth. And yourself?” he asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

  Eliza smiled. Well, why not? “Yes, please.”

  Young Jenkins—so called to avoid confusion, for he was the son of their last butler—moved briskly to do her bidding. She smiled at her father and walked beside him up the stairs. He said nothing more until they were halfway up.

  “You must be excited to see Cassius tomorrow?”

  Eliza glanced at him, unable to hide the little flush of colour she felt heating her face.

  “I am,” she said softly.

  Her father fell silent and she got the unnerving sensation he was about to say something she wouldn’t like.

  “There’s no need to rush into anything. You do know that? You’re young yet, and he’s been away a long time now. You might not suit anymore. So… you should wait and get to know him better.”

  “We’ve known each other all our lives, Papa, it’s hardly a rush,” she said, laughing, but her laughter died as she caught his expression.

  “Yes, but….”

  “But? Good heavens, surely you approve the match?” Eliza studied her father’s face, alarmed by the concern in his eyes. Whatever did he look so anxious about?

  “Of course,” he said, patting her hand. “But he’s been gone for two whole years. People change, feelings change, and….”

  Eliza’s heart thudded with apprehension. He might not love you anymore. The words remained unsaid, but she heard them all the same. No. That was silly. Cassius was loyal to a fault, they’d loved each other all their lives, and their lovely future was all laid out for them. It had been for years. He was to help her begin her charitable organisation. They were going to change the world and make it a better place together.

  Admittedly, Cassius was only a viscount. To accomplish everything she hoped for, a duke would have been so much better, but… but he was her dearest friend, and she loved him. Surely Papa could have no objections?

  “He’s your friend, Eliza, your dearest friend.”

  “Yes,” she said simply as he echoed her thoughts, perplexed.

  They had reached the top of the stairs. Her father turned and took her hands. “Darling, friendship is certainly not a terrible basis for a good marriage, far from it, but… but it may not be enough. Just don’t go making any rash decisions. There is time yet. Promise me.”

  Eliza nodded jerkily, unbalanced by this whole conversation. She would marry Cassius. That had always been their plan. They’d never said it in so many words, but they both understood it. He’d told her these years in France would be enough to quiet his desire for travel and adventure and then he’d be ready to settle down. He was coming home from France to propose to her. Everyone knew that. They did.

  Didn’t they?

  Lottie stared blankly out of the carriage window. She had slept
heavily but not well, and her eyes were gritty and hot. The carriage was stuffy, too, and little Harry fidgeted between her and Eliza. Lottie didn’t mind travelling as a rule, in fact she enjoyed it and never complained about uncomfortable carriages and long journeys. Today though she just wanted to scream at the coachman to stop and let her get out. As Mama was tired and out of sorts, her parents were travelling in their own carriage, so Lottie and Eliza were crammed in with their siblings. Understandably Jules had opted to ride for most of the journey. Like Harry, he hated being confined in a carriage for any length of time.

  “Do keep still, Harry, dear,” Eliza said, tucking one of her brother’s dark curls behind his ear.

  “I want to get out,” the boy said, pouting and folding his arms. Sitting still for above two minutes together was torture of the worst kind for the child.

  “I know, but we can’t, not yet. And you must be pleased we are going to Holbrook. Cat will be there.”

  “Cat? Oh!” the boy said, brightening at once at the name of his favourite person.

  Ten-year-old Lady Catherine was beloved by all, a cheeky, cheerful, beautiful child, and youngest daughter of the Marquess and Marchioness of Montagu.

  “Do you suppose her brothers have changed their plans?” Ozzie asked wistfully.

  Lottie looked to their siblings on the opposite bench. Rosamund, Victoria, and Frederick—or Ozzie, Torie, and Fred, as they were known by the family—regarded her with hopeful expressions.

  “No, Pip and Tom have gone to stay at Mitcham Priory.”

  Ozzie huffed and glowered out of the window, and Lottie smiled. She knew just how the child felt. It was awful when your favourite people were far away from you. Not that the Priory was that far; it was easy enough to visit if they wished to. Being close to your favourite people was not always a blessing, though. Sometimes it was utter misery.