“A going concern, is it?” Felix asked, repeating Verity’s words as he raised a brow at his daughter. “I cannot argue with you on the matter, poppet. She is my better in every way.”
“I am not,” Johanna denied, another rush of love washing over her, this time so strong, it made her eyes sting.
She sniffled.
Being in a delicate condition had turned her into a veritable watering pot.
“You are,” Felix insisted.
“She is certainly better at silly songs,” Verity said.
“Papa is the best,” she argued, sniffling some more. “Who else can think of a goose and a spruce and the feet of a man named Pete?”
And more to the point, who else could be so handsome, so charming, so silly, and so wonderful, all at once? She swore that with each day that passed, as she watched the man he was, the father he was, the husband he was, she loved him more.
“Mama needs a handkerchief,” Verity decreed.
“I keep no less than five tucked about my person at all times,” Felix said, extracting one with a flourish and offering it to Johanna. “One never knows when Mama will have need of one.”
Smiling, she accepted it and used it to dab gingerly at her tears. It seemed happy tears were becoming a habit.
“I am just so very content,” she said, rather tremulously.
“If you are any more content, I shall have to buy a handkerchief factory,” Felix teased, but his eyes were glistening into hers.
The Pearl Theater had seen its opening night earlier that evening and had boasted a sold-out crowd. She had presided over the triumph from a private box with Felix and Verity. Johanna could not have been more pleased or proud. The play she had chosen was one of her favorite Shakespearean works, Twelfth Night.
“I scarcely wept at all today,” she defended herself.
“Twice at breakfast,” Verity said.
“Once on the way to the theater,” Felix added. “Again when the curtain fell. Just now. I dare say that was my last handkerchief of the day. No more happy tears, darling, or I will need to replenish my stock.”
“Perhaps you could use the sleeve of Papa’s coat,” Verity suggested cheekily.
“Volunteer your own sleeves, poppet,” he said with mock outrage.
Johanna smiled, looking fondly from father to daughter. “Happy tears are a good thing.”
Felix drew her into his side, and Johanna put her arm around Verity’s little shoulders, drawing her into her side in turn.
“Happy tears are the best,” he told her.
“I think cocoa biscuits are the best,” Verity offered.
Johanna just laughed, heart content as she sat there with her family. “I think the two of you are the best.”
“If you insist,” Felix and Verity said in unison.
Her smile grew, and the prickle of happy tears returned.
She sniffled. “I do.”
It was indeed a brave new world. Their brave new world.
The End
Author’s Note
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading Felix and Johanna’s story! I hope you enjoyed this fifth book in the League of Dukes series and that it made you sniffle over a few happy tears of your own. Felix and Johanna’s happily ever after was fraught with danger and roadblocks, and complicated by their past losses, but in the end, love triumphed. Just as it always should.
Please consider leaving an honest review of Scandalous Duke. Reviews are greatly appreciated! If you’d like to keep up to date with my latest releases and series news, sign up for my newsletter here or follow me on Amazon or BookBub. Join my reader’s group on Facebook for bonus content, early excerpts, giveaways, and more.
If you’d like a preview of Fearless Duke, Book Six, and the final installment of the League of Dukes series, featuring the newest member of the Special League, the Duke of Westmorland, and the independent lady who clashes with him in a delicious battle of wits and wills, do read on.
Until next time,
Scarlett
Author’s Note on Historical Accuracy
The bombing of the Scotland Yard offices, in conjunction with bombings at St. James’s Square, and the home of Sir Watkin Williams-Wynn MP, along with the unexploded dynamite in Trafalgar Square occurred on May 30, 1884. The Criminal Investigation Department of Scotland Yard (or the CID) was founded in 1878. I took some creative license and tweaked the timelines of these events to fit in with my fictional timeline where necessary.
Drummond McKenna is a purely fictional character. In truth, a number of different men—many of whom were indeed Irish-American in origin—were engaged in Fenian plotting and bombings during the 1880s. John Tierney, while a character I invented for this book, is loosely based on Irishman John Daly, who was arrested in 1883 with suspect evidence found upon his person.
Johanna McKenna’s life as an actress was inspired by actress of the time Ada Rehan, who was born in Limerick, Ireland, and immigrated to America when she was five. She first appeared onstage when she was just fourteen and went on to a long and storied career as a lead actress that included tours of England and Europe.
Irish Home Rule was an incredibly divisive part of English, Irish, and American history. While much of this series has focused on my fictional Special League’s efforts to capture Fenian bombers, I’ve also tried, whenever possible, to represent both sides of the matter. The Fenians who launched dynamite campaigns were the minority. Most Irish and Irish-Americans believed violence was not the answer to achieving Home Rule.
Finally, a note on historical accuracy in terms of language and sexual content. Not only did people of the nineteenth century curse, use lewd words, and enjoy sex—and this is richly documented in literature, art, photographs, diaries, and letters—but people have been doing all those things for centuries. One of my literary heroes, Geoffrey Chaucer, was writing quite naughty things back in the 1300s. Use of the word fuck has been documented since at least the 1500s. As for sex, there are centuries’ worth of erotic literature and other forms of art to attest to its role in the lives of everyday people throughout history. And good for them, I say!
Now, on to that preview I promised…
Fearless Duke
By
Scarlett Scott
Miss Isabella Hilgrove, proprietress of the Ladies’ Typewriting School, prides herself on the quality of her staff. After the Duke of Westmorland sacks the third typist she has sent him in as many days, she’s not just outraged, she’s determined to put the arrogant bully in his place.
Benedict Manning, Duke of Westmorland, is having the worst week of his life. A bomb has exploded on London Bridge, the Special League is unraveling, and he cannot seem to find a secretary who is not a spineless watering pot. When the prim and proper Miss Hilgrove arrives on his doorstep, calling him everything but a gentleman, he can’t resist toying with her.
Their mutual attempts to teach each other a lesson quickly turn into something more. But danger is in the air, and the brooding duke and the self-avowed spinster are about to become targets of the most lethal menace London has faced…
Chapter One
London, 1884
“I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but there is a Miss Isabella Hilgrove demanding an audience.”
Benedict looked up from the reports of Scotland Yard’s Criminal Investigation Department he had been poring over. It would appear the only good thing about the attempt to bomb London Bridge was that the dynamitards responsible had unintentionally detonated their infernal machine too soon.
They had blown themselves to bits in the process.
He frowned at his butler, the grim subject matter he had been reading infecting him like an ailment. “I am not at home.”
Young’s countenance was implacable as ever. “I informed Miss Hilgrove as much. However, she claims she has been sent by the Ladies’ Typewriting School.”
“Not another one,” he grumbled.
Three typists had been sent to him
by the school. Since he had undertaken the duty of managing the Special League, he required a seemingly endless amount of reports for the Home Office. Hiring a typist had seemed an excellent decision, especially since the Home Secretary himself had suggested it and recommended the school.
The decision had proved a dreadful error of judgment on Benedict’s part.
The first had hummed to herself as she completed a task. When he had pointed out how disturbing such a habit was, she burst into tears and fled.
The second had been dreadfully slow, her fingers hunting about the keys in plodding fashion so that she had accomplished frightfully little in the course of three hours. He had told her to leave and not return.
The third had been sniffling and coughing. He had taken one look at her red nose and watery eyes and sent her on her merry way. Illness aggrieved him mightily. Indeed, he could not afford to contract something catching in his current position.
There was far too much at stake.
But he became aware that Young was still lingering at the threshold of Benedict’s study, looming like a wraith.
“What is it?” he snapped at the butler.
“I am afraid the lady in question has informed me she will not be denied an audience with Your Grace. She has indicated she will remain all day if necessary.”
Devil take it.
He had no doubt the fourth offering from the school would not be any better than her three predecessors had been.
“Tell the lady in question her services are no longer required, if you please,” he informed his butler.
His butler’s countenance had never been more aggrieved. “I will try, Your Grace.”
“Try?” he asked, for Young was ordinarily an exemplary domestic.
Benedict had expectations of his staff. Obeying his edicts and performing their tasks well and promptly were strict requirements. In addition to not being an irritant or a walking ailment, of course. He was not too stern, he felt certain. He merely expected from all those in his employ the same standards to which he held himself.
Namely, excellence.
Young cleared his throat, apparently seeing his mistake. “I will explain it as you require, Your Grace. Thank you.”
He bowed and then took his leave.
Benedict exhaled slowly as the door clicked closed. He listened for the staccato of the butler’s shoes on the marble hall. Solitude pleased him. Disruption irked him. He was a beast of habit, it was certain. But upon his shoulders, he bore a great weight of responsibility.
He bowed his head and resumed reading the reports awaiting him, assured Young would dismiss the creature at the front door and he would be done with the Ladies’ Typewriting School for eternity.
He had scarcely even read two sentences when the indignant squawking began.
Truly, there was no other means of describing the sound reaching his hears. It was feminine and outraged. Followed by two sets of footsteps echoing down the marble hall.
“Madam, I beg you,” said Young.
“Beg as you wish,” responded the angry hen who had caused the initial squawking and unrest, “but I shall see the Duke of Westmorland, and I shall see him now.”
What cheek.
What daring.
The effrontery of the baggage…why, it was unprecedented.
The fourth would not last any longer than the prior three, it was certain. Nettled, he rose from his desk, before skirting it and stalking toward the door. The door opened. And there stood a female.
The female.
Behind her hovered an anxious-looking Young, eyebrows raised. A waterfall of protestations rained down upon the moment.
“Miss Hilgrove, I must insist you go. This is quite improper. You cannot disrupt His Grace.”
The last assertion appeared to spur the creature hovering on the threshold into action. She swept forward, small of stature and yet all womanly curves. She was golden-haired, pale of visage, and delectable of form. Her gown was dour: ebony and gray, conservative silk bereft of ornamentation.
But beneath it all hid the lush body of a woman. Her breasts were large and full. Her curves were plentiful, the sort that could not be hidden by plain dress. She was, all of her, from head to toe, woman.
And his cock sprang to life.
Feminine curves were his sole weakness, and he knew it.
Want more? Get Fearless Duke here!
Don’t miss Scarlett’s other romances!
(Listed by Series)
Complete Book List
HISTORICAL ROMANCE
Heart’s Temptation
A Mad Passion (Book One)
Rebel Love (Book Two)
Reckless Need (Book Three)
Sweet Scandal (Book Four)
Restless Rake (Book Five)
Darling Duke (Book Six)
The Night Before Scandal (Book Seven)
Wicked Husbands
Her Errant Earl (Book One)
Her Lovestruck Lord (Book Two)
Her Reformed Rake (Book Three)
Her Deceptive Duke (Book Four)
Her Missing Marquess (Book Five)
League of Dukes
Nobody’s Duke (Book One)
Heartless Duke (Book Two)
Dangerous Duke (Book Three)
Shameless Duke (Book Four)
Scandalous Duke (Book Five)
Fearless Duke (Book Six)
Sins and Scoundrels
Duke of Depravity (Book One)
Prince of Persuasion (Book Two)
Marquess of Mayhem (Book Three)
Earl of Every Sin (Book Four)
The Wicked Winters
Wicked in Winter (Book One)
Wedded in Winter (Book Two)
Wanton in Winter (Book Three)
Willful in Winter (Book Four)
Wagered in Winter (Book Five)
Wild in Winter (Book Six)
Stand-alone Novella
Lord of Pirates
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE
Love’s Second Chance
Reprieve (Book One)
Perfect Persuasion (Book Two)
Win My Love (Book Three)
Coastal Heat
Loved Up (Book One)
About the Author
USA Today and Amazon bestselling author Scarlett Scott writes steamy Victorian and Regency romance with strong, intelligent heroines and sexy alpha heroes. She lives in Pennsylvania with her Canadian husband, adorable identical twins, and one TV-loving dog.
A self-professed literary junkie and nerd, she loves reading anything, but especially romance novels, poetry, and Middle English verse. Catch up with her on her website www.scarlettscottauthor.com. Hearing from readers never fails to make her day.
Scarlett’s complete book list and information about upcoming releases can be found at www.scarlettscottauthor.com.
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Scandalous Duke
League of Dukes Book Five
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2020 by Scarlett Scott
Published by Happily Ever After Books, LLC
Kindle Edition
Edited by Grace Bradley
Cover Design by Wicked Smart Designs
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illega
l. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded, or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is punishable by law.
This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events, or locales, is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.
For more information, contact author Scarlett Scott.
www.scarlettscottauthor.com
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