Cocky Duke

by Anders, Annabelle

  Cocky Duke

  Annabelle Anders

  COCKY DUKE

  By Annabelle Anders

  Copyright © 2020 by Annabelle Anders and Cocky Hero Club, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations. Any resemblance to actual persons, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Editor: Tracy Mooring Liebchen

  French Reader: Elodi Nicoli

  Cover Art: Jena Brignola

  Created with Vellum

  The Cocky Hero Club

  Cocky Duke is a standalone story inspired by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward’s Cocky Bastard. It's published as part of the Cocky Hero Club world, a series of original works, written by various authors, and inspired by Keeland and Ward's New York Times bestselling series.

  A most unexpected adventure…

  Mrs. Ambrosia Bloomington, now a widow,

  is ready to start a new life amongst Mayfair elites without the overarching reach of her late husband,

  Mr. Harrison Bloomington.

  With her trunks loaded safely onto her own private carriage, she’s ready to face the world as an independent woman in Regency London.

  She does not, however,

  bargain for cocksure Frenchman,

  Mr. Charles Cochran Bateman

  coming along and turning her very ordinary journey into the adventure of a lifetime.

  She does not bargain for his laughter,

  his enthusiasm, nor his Joie de vie.

  And blast and fiddlesticks, she certainly is not expecting to experience the sparks that charge the air between them.

  And, it seems, apparently, neither is he…

  Contents

  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 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Epilogue

  An unspeakable topic

  The Perfect Debutante

  Also by Annabelle Anders

  Chapter 1

  Part One, Aubrey

  Mrs. Ambrosia (Aubrey) Bloomington

  A rural inn in South East England, 1823

  Mrs. Ambrosia Bloomington leaned forward but held back an appreciative gasp as she caught sight of the creature outside her window. Sleek, muscular… and such a powerful looking behind.

  The magnificent beast turned his head, allowing a glimpse of his chiseled profile. In that moment, she wished more than anything that she had learned how to ride. Perhaps after she arrived in London, if funds allowed, she could purchase a horse for herself and pay someone to teach her. She’d purchase a much smaller one than the spectacular animal outside.

  Not that she would ride through the streets of London. It might be harrowing to maneuver one’s horse through all the traffic, but perhaps she could ride in the park. She pondered… It was one more thing amongst many that she would have to learn about living in the city where her future lie.

  She lowered her cup of tea onto its saucer and, with a sigh, rested her chin on her hand. She was leaving everything familiar behind, and in but a few days, would begin her new life.

  She would miss the familiar countryside of Rockford Beach, the cliffs along the ocean, and although tedious, the comfort of routine. At the age of six and twenty, Aubrey Bloomington was leaving her home.

  She would not miss most of the people who had surrounded her over the past year.

  Movement outside the window captured her attention once again.

  A man stepped out from behind the giant horse and Aubrey jerked her spine so that she sat up straight. He was brushing the horse, rubbing his capable looking hands along the its back and side. He must be the horse’s rider.

  Taller than average, his lean physique appeared just as honed and athletic as his mount. Aubrey licked her lips. He had copper brown hair, barely long enough to stay put in the que behind his head, and an errant lock dangled along his cheek. Aubrey slid her gaze up to study his strong, determined features. He was a little scruffy, as though he’d not shaved for a few days, and he smiled as he spoke to the horse. It was a smile that stirred something unfamiliar inside of Aubrey.

  A fine-looking creature indeed.

  An evergreen coat and black top hat lay casually on the ground and Aubrey wondered if they belonged to the rider. He wore nothing over his unbuttoned waistcoat and although the sleeves of his linen shirt were spotted with a few smudges of dirt, the garment itself remained perfectly tucked into tight–fitting breeches.

  The black Hessians he wore seemed worn but also well cared for.

  Unable to drag her eyes away from him, she couldn’t help but compare the rider to the animal she’d been admiring.

  Both exuded unleashed strengths.

  She could easily imagine the two of them in battle, chain mesh protecting the horse, the rider wearing knight’s armor, his brilliant cobalt eyes peering out from beneath a steel helmet.

  Although frightfully dangerous to his enemies, he would be charming to everyone else, but not too charming, and he would be honorable.

  A knight in shining armor must always be honorable.

  Her heart melted further when her knight kissed the giant horse just above his snout.

  She exhaled a deep sigh.

  A heartbreaker, indeed.

  Aubrey tilted her head thinking that such a man would not be captured by anything but true love.

  He would not be easily tamed.

  His scruffy chin and untamed shiny brown hair made him appear wild and fierce, much like the animal who pranced skittishly when a stranger walked too close. Although well worn, his coat and breaches looked to have been well made. He would be a man who wore them out of practicality, rather than to impress.

  When she realized her eyes had settled on the man’s firm and muscular behind, she chastised herself and forced her gaze upward to study his broad shoulders, instead.

  Perhaps he was some second son of an aristocrat, or perhaps a professional man of business. The splendid horse was obviously valuable, and the gentleman moved confidently, as though he owned the ground upon which he stood.

  “More tea, Miss?” The woman, who’d introduced herself as Mrs. Neskers, nearly had Aubrey knocking over her cup. To be caught staring, no, not staring, ogling a gentleman while he tended to his mount—making up stories about the man in her mind, no less, was not at all appropriate. She’d obviously been alone with no one but herself for company far too long. The fatigue of travel was getting the best of her.

  “Yes please.” She presented her cup.

  “Milk? Sugar?” Mrs. Neskers must be the inn keeper’s wife. She’d informed Aubrey upon her arrival that they would have a room readied shortly but that she must wait as the current occupants had yet to check out. She had led Aubrey, a lady traveling alone, through the public area and into one of the private dining
rooms where she could take her tea without fear of harassment. “Are you certain you won’t try a pastry? “

  “I am certain, thank you.” Aubrey’s figure veered toward an hourglass shape which could, if not watched carefully, get out of hand. Her mother had drilled into her the importance of remaining neat and trim for her husband.

  …who was now dead.

  His pale, cold and inert form laid out in the parlor came to mind.

  Aubrey tapped her chin, realizing for that for the first time in her life, she had no one to please except herself.

  “On second thought…Yes please, and the pastries as well, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  The softly rounded gray-haired woman smiled cheerfully as she added sugar to Aubrey’s cup, and then a generous splash of milk. “I’ll return shortly then madam.”

  Aubrey smiled. A new adventure laid out before her like a second chance at life.

  She exhaled a peaceful sigh and stared outside at her handsome rider, er, at the fine-looking horse once again in time to see a groom approaching them. The gentleman shook his head in a kindly fashion, spoke with the older man for a few minutes, lifted the saddle off the horse and handed it over before patting the groom on his back as he carried it away. Apparently, her knight would tend to his horse himself.

  Using a brush, the man’s gentle but firm strokes drew Aubrey’s’ gaze to his steady hands. He had folded back the sleeves of his shirt and she secretly enjoyed the sight of such lean forearms, slim wrists, and elegant fingers. More elegant than she would have expected which ruled out any idea she might have that he labored for his living.

  Following the direction of the horse’s hair, he lovingly brushed off pieces of dirt and mud that had splashed onto the mighty beast over the course of their journey.

  What would that feel like, she wondered, to be cherished so lovingly… She nearly snorted when she realized that now she was comparing herself to the animal. Wishing to be petted and groomed. Foolishness!

  Oh, but he loved that horse.

  And if she was correct, he was murmuring to it softly.

  She tilted her head closer to the window but didn’t immediately recognize what he was saying.

  Holding her breath, she leaned even closer to the glass.

  He was talking to the horse in French!

  “Tu me sers toujours bien, magnifique créature.”

  You serve me well, magnificent creature.

  Aubrey smiled.

  “Tu mérites un bon repas et une bonne nuit de repos, ma douce.”

  You deserve a good meal and a good night’s rest… my sweet?

  She pressed her ear closer, nearly touching the glass now.

  “Peut-être coucher avec un beau cheval mâle hein??”

  She rose her brows at this. Was he really suggesting that the horse might bed down beside a handsome male horse?

  She peeked outside again but could not help but listen closer when his conversation with the horse continued.

  “Peut-être que la belle princesse à la fenêtre voudrait un baiser de l'étranger qu'elle es ten train d’observé, non?”

  She bolted upright and this time, when she peeked out the window, found herself startled by the most brilliant sapphire eyes she’d ever seen. Her imaginary knight in shining armor had not only stepped closer so that he could witness her humiliation, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

  Knowing she must have blushed beet red, she hastily drew the curtain closed, her heart racing wildly. At the same time, the door opened, and Mrs. Neskers entered carrying a mouthwatering tray displaying an array of biscuits and tarts.

  The woman glanced at the now closed curtain, shrugged and set her offering onto the table.

  Keeping her eyes down and wishing she could fan her burning cheeks, Aubrey selected one of each. “I won’t be needing anything else.” She smiled in an attempt to hide the embarrassment that… that…––roguish blackguard!––had caused her. She did not want to sit here with an entire tray of sinful treats tempting her, she was likely to consume them all. “You may take the rest away.”

  She hardly managed to breathe until the woman had left and closed the door behind her once again.

  Aubrey touched her cheeks and squeezed her eyes shut.

  He’d known she was watching him all along.

  And to say what he did! How positively horrid! How absolutely reprehensible!

  The wicked thrill he’d sent spiraling through her entire body ought to have turned her into a tingling mass of shame. Because to suggest such a thing to a lady! She may have been contemplating inappropriate thoughts but that didn’t mean he ought to speak them aloud!

  It was… unconscionable!

  The words echoed tauntingly as she played them in her mind once again.

  Perhaps the beautiful princess at the window would like a kiss from the stranger she has been watching, no?

  She barely nibbled at the pastry before giving up altogether and then rising to return to the inn keeper’s desk. Her chamber ought to be readied by now. As a lady traveling alone, she ought not to remain downstairs for long. Already, fellows in the tap room sounded a bit boisterous.

  “You must have something available.”

  Aubrey’s ears perked up to hear the same gravelly accented voice from the window now coming from the direction of the inn keeper’s desk.

  “I don’t require much. Just a small room with a cot. I’m not picky.” His French accent, although faint, lent a seductive quality to every word he spoke.

  And she rather enjoyed that this cocksure gentleman would be sleeping on a cot that night. He rather deserved it after the joke he’d pulled on her.

  Aubrey stepped up behind him and laughed just loud enough for him to turn and glance over his shoulder. By the look in his eyes, he failed to appreciate the humor of the situation.

  “I’m glad you find my situation amusing.” He addressed her this time, and then turned back to the gentleman behind the counter. Amoosing. A thrill of… something danced down her spine at the sound of his accent. She would not attempt to identify what that particular something was. He was a perfect stranger, for heaven’s sake.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bateman.” The inn keeper shrugged apologetically. “With so few inns along this route, we fill up quickly. There is another down the road a few miles. Perhaps they will have a bed for you there.”

  The man… Mr. Bateman, exhaled loudly and scrubbed one hand down his face. Aubrey couldn’t help but notice that even more of his reddish-brown hair had escaped its que.

  She wondered if it felt as soft and silky as it looked.

  Shaking off such unseemly thoughts, she pulled her shoulders back and stepped up to the counter herself. “I believe my chamber should be readied now?” She smiled at the innkeeper without acknowledging the disturbing man beside her. “Mrs. Ambrosia Bloomington,” she volunteered. “Mrs. Neskers said it was being readied.”

  The innkeeper did not quite meet her eyes. “I’m sorry to inform you, Mrs. Bloomington,” The man rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. “That the room isn’t going to be available, after all.”

  A deep male chuckle sounded beside her.

  Aubrey pursed her lips. “But Mrs. Neskers— “

  “Was unaware that the current occupants had decided to remain for an additional night.” He cut her off.

  “What am I to do? You must have something.”

  The knight in somewhat tarnished armor now, nay—Mr. Bateman—chuckled again but when she glared at him, he not so discreetly turned it into a dry cough.

  Why was it that even his laughter sounded so ridiculously…sensual? She stared at him haughtily this time. “This is not amoosing.” She scolded. And then back to the innkeeper. “I would have not wasted so much daylight, if I’d known. It’s going to be dark soon. I insist you make accommodations available for me tonight.”

  “I’m sorry Mrs. Bloomington. There is nothing we can do. There are a few establishments east of here where you might be abl
e to acquire a room, but I wouldn’t dawdle if I were you. I’d imagine they only have one or two left, if that.”

  His voice broached no argument and Aubrey was not a person who enjoyed confrontation. She supposed, too, that he was making some attempt to be helpful. She only hoped her driver had not settled in for the night.

  The laughter of this French knight followed her outside as she exited, intent now upon locating her coachman, Mr. Daniels, as quickly as possible. Still stinging from Mr. Bateman’s taunting, she marched through the muddied garden, past a few young men lazing about and chewing on long pieces of straw, and turned to look inside the mews.

  “Mr. Daniels!” Her driver lay sprawled on a bale of hay, his eyes glazed and an empty bottle in his hand. Gin!

  “My regards, hic… Mrs. Bloo, Mrs. Bloomin’ton.”

  The evening, apparently, was to take yet another turn for the worse. “Are you drunk, Mr. Daniels?” But it was a pointless question. “You’ll need to sober up quickly, sir, as there are no rooms to let here. We must get back on the road quickly if we’re to find anything vacant at the next establishment.”

  She did not relish the prospect of traveling in the dark.

  “Not going anywhere tonight, misses.” The driver pointed toward their carriage, which she only just realized was listing to the side. “The wheel came loose when I drove her around back.”