A Christmas Bride for the Duke: Clean Regency Romance (The Nettlefold Chronicles Book 4) Read online

  The Nettlefold Chronicles

  Clean Regency Romance

  A Christmas Bride for the Duke

  Arietta Richmond

  Dreamstone Publishing © 2019

  www.dreamstonepublishing.com

  Copyright © 2019 Dreamstone Publishing and Arietta Richmond,

  All rights reserved.

  No parts of this work may be copied without the author’s permission.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-925915-48-8

  Disclaimer

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, organisations, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  Dedication

  For everyone who had the grace to be patient while this book, and every other book that I have written, was coming into existence, who provided cups of tea, and food, when the writing would not let me go, and endured countless times being asked for opinions.

  For the readers who inspire me to continue writing, by buying my books! Especially for those of you who have taken the time to email me, or to leave reviews, and tell me what you love about these books, and what you’d like to see more of – thank you – I’m listening, I promise to write more about your favourite characters.

  For my growing team of beta readers and advance reviewers – it’s thanks to you that others can enjoy these books in the best presentation possible!

  And for all the writers of Regency Historical Romance, whose books I read, who inspired me to write in this fascinating period.

  Table of Contents

  A Christmas Bride for the Duke

  Disclaimer

  Dedication

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Here is your preview of To Dance with the Dangerous Duke

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Books in the Nettlefold Chronicles

  Books in the His Majesty’s Hounds Series

  Books in The Derbyshire Set

  Regency Collections with Other Authors

  Books in the A Duke’s Daughters – the Elbury Bouquet Series

  Books in the Regency Scandals Series

  Other Books from Arietta

  Other Books from Dreamstone Publishing

  Books by Arietta Richmond

  His Majesty’s Hounds

  Claiming the Heart of a Duke

  Intriguing the Viscount

  Giving a Heart of Lace

  Being Lady Harriet’s Hero

  Enchanting the Duke

  Redeeming the Marquess

  Finding the Duke’s Heir

  Winning the Merchant Earl

  Healing Lord Barton

  Kissing the Duke of Hearts

  Loving the Bitter Baron

  Falling for the Earl

  Rescuing the Countess

  Betting on a Lady’s Heart

  Attracting the Spymaster

  Courting a Spinster for Christmas

  Restoring the Earl’s Honour

  From Soldier Spy to Lord (contains the first three books in one volume)

  To Love a Determined Lady (Contains Books 4, 5 and 6 in one volume)

  Love Heals a Lord (Contains Books 7, 8 and 9 in one volume)

  A Duke’s Daughters – The Elbury Bouquet

  A Spinster for a Spy (Lily)

  A Vixen for a Viscount (Hyacinth)

  A Bluestocking for a Baron (Rose)

  A Diamond for a Duke (Camellia) (coming soon)

  A Minx for a Merchant (Primrose) (coming soon)

  An Enchantress for an Earl (Violet) (coming soon)

  A Maiden for a Marquess (Iris) (coming soon)

  A Heart for an Heir (Thorne) (coming soon)

  The Nettlefold Chronicles

  The Duke and the Spinster

  To Dance with the Dangerous Duke

  A Duke in Autumn

  A Christmas Bride for the Duke

  The Regency Gothic Series

  Lord of the Storm

  Lord of the Darkness (coming soon)

  Lord of the Lost (coming soon)

  Lord of the Shadows (coming soon)

  The Regency Scandals Series

  The Gift of a Christmas Scandal

  Lady Mariel’s Scandalous Love

  Christmas with That Duke (coming soon)

  The Derbyshire Set

  A Gift of Love (Prequel short story)

  A Devil’s Bargain (Prequel short story - coming soon)

  The Earl’s Unexpected Bride

  The Captain’s Compromised Heiress

  The Viscount’s Unsuitable Affair

  The Count’s Impetuous Seduction

  The Rake’s Unlikely Redemption

  The Marquess’ Scandalous Mistress

  A Remembered Face (Bonus short story – coming soon)

  The Marchioness’ Second Chance

  A Viscount’s Reluctant Passion

  Lady Theodora’s Christmas Wish

  The Duke’s Improper Love (coming soon)

  A Gentleman’s Unconventional Courtship (coming soon)

  The Derbyshire Set, Omnibus Edition, Volume 1 (the first three books in one volume.)

  The Derbyshire Set, Omnibus Edition, Volume 2 (the second three books in one volume.)

  Other Books

  The Scottish Governess

  Her Summer Duke

  The Earl’s Reluctant Fiancée (coming soon)

  The Crew of the Seadragon’s Soul Series, (coming soon - a set of 10 linked novels)

  Introduction

  I hope that you enjoy this story. Whilst it can be read standalone, it is related to stories from eight other authors, all of which are in some way related to the area surrounding the town of Upper Nettlefold, and its companion town of Lower Nettlefold. Upper Nettlefold, and its inhabitants have been created by all of us, to share.

  This is my fourth visit to Upper Nettlefold, but it won’t be the last. You will almost certainly see other books from the various authors, based in Upper Nettlefold, or about characters you first meet here. Keep an eye out for books with the Nettlefold Chronicles logo on them!

  Every time you read another Nettlefold story, you’ll find that it has things which happen, that influence the other stories, or are seen in other stories, from a different perspective. You will find that each story builds on the ones before, weaving the magic of community and interconnection between characters.

  There is also a map of Upper Nettlefold, which you will find on the next page, to help you visualise everything as you read. (Sorry, you’ll have to turn the book sideways to see it best)

  Although each story can stand alone, we’re sure that you’ll love finding the linkages as you go.

  Chapter One

  “Eeeee… ooohff.”

  Lady Eleanor Willoughby emitted a completely unladylike series of sounds, driven by a combination of shock and fear. A fear which was not fulfilled, when she found herself inexplicably set back on her rather unsteady feet, instead of measuring her length on the slippery, ice crusted stone of the terrace at Kilmerstan Castle.


  Something was holding her up – rather, someone was holding her up.

  She rotated carefully within the grasp of whoever it was, intent on identifying her rescuer, and found herself face to face with a neatly figured waistcoat, which was framed by finely tailored superfine in a burgundy colour so dark it was nearly black. She looked up. A very long way up.

  The man who held her steady on her feet was quite the largest man she had ever seen. She did not know who he was, which was alarming. She did, immediately, detect that he was handsome, in a wild, dark, and brooding way.

  Her heart beat hard, and her mouth went dry, as words abandoned her. She should thank him for saving her from a painful fall, but she seemed incapable of doing anything but stare into his deep forest green eyes.

  “There now lassie, can ye stand steady by yoursel’?”

  The voice was deep, and so resonant that she felt the vibration deep within her. It was also a voice very distinctly flavoured by Scottish heritage. A suspicion began to grow within her, as to exactly whose hands held her. Hands that were, she now realised, huge, and so very warm, where they rested at her waist. She needed to speak, to answer him. Eleanor swallowed, and forced a half smile to her face.

  “I believe that I can. Thank you…?”

  “Braeness. That is, Adair Craigie, Duke of Braeness, at your service, my Lady.”

  Her suspicion had been right. The man who had saved her from a nasty fall was none other than the Black Scot. The gossips had not done him justice, not at all. He was bigger… in every way that she could perceive… than they had suggested. And almost frightening, as he loomed above her. Those hands still held her…

  “Your Grace. I am delighted to meet you, although I could have wished to do so in a far more elegant manner. I am Lady Eleanor Willoughby. My sister, Juliana, is the Duchess of Kilmerstan.”

  “Elegance can be overrated, my Lady. But perhaps getting inside off this ice paved terrace would be wise, nonetheless.”

  She shivered at his words, for they hinted at humour, although his expression was still serious.

  Curiously, now that they had spoken a little, and he was sure that she was unharmed, the Scots inflection to his voice had disappeared, and his tone was that of any other Eton educated man of the ton. She pushed that conundrum away for later consideration, and attempted a smile.

  “I believe that you are right, Your Grace. And I thank you, again, for the rescue. If you would be so kind as to open the door…?”

  He released her with one hand, and reached behind him to open the terrace door. The other hand stayed on her, steadying, until she had stepped past him, and in through that door. It closed behind her, and he did not follow. Oddly, she felt the lack of his hands on her waist acutely, even as she was glad to escape the embarrassing moment.

  ~~~~~

  Adair Craigie, Duke of Braeness, even after years at Eton, and amongst the young men of England’s upper ten thousand, still felt out of place. His physical size had never helped with that feeling, although it had, at least, prevented him from being physically bullied about being a Scot. Now, he wondered if he had been wise to come to this house party. After two days pretty much isolating himself, riding out in the mornings, and spending time with Garrett in the library and study, now that others had arrived he’d spent the last half hour in a parlour full of people he had little in common with, being looked at rather as if, even though they knew his name and title, they still believed him an imposter.

  The terrace, even in near snow, seemed a better option.

  He opened the door, and stepped out into the bracing chill. And was immediately collided with by something. He caught it, by reflex.

  It was a person. A woman, to be precise. A small woman, with pale blonde hair escaping in wisps from beneath the fur edged hood of the pelisse she wore. His hands held her waist, which was also tiny, from behind.

  She seemed to have found her footing again, now that he had stopped her from falling – which is what she had been doing, when he’d caught her, as far as he could tell. She carefully shuffled around in his grasp - which he did not release – until she faced him. Her nose was level with the middle of his chest.

  Slowly, she looked up, until she met his eyes. Hers were blue – that mid blue of the sky on a perfect summer’s day, and they widened as she took him in. Below them, her soft pink rosebud lips opened in a little gasp of surprise. He wanted to kiss those lips, slowly, and thoroughly, until she gasped for another reason entirely. The impulse took him by surprise, and he repressed it sternly. This was no time to be thinking such things!

  She disturbed his composure, for she looked at him in a way that was most unusual – not with judgement, or hopeful appraisal, or disapproval – just open eyed and considering. Then a tiny shadow of fear filled those blue eyes, and sadness ran through him. He should have expected it.

  “There now lassie, can ye stand steady by yoursel’?”

  Damnation! She really had rattled him – the Scots brogue was colouring his words. He’d best get that under control before he went back inside. She gave a tentative smile, which quite lit her face.

  “I believe that I can. Thank you…?”

  “Braeness. That is, Adair Craigie, Duke of Braeness, at your service, my Lady.”

  This was not the usual way to be introduced to a lady, but he supposed there was no option now. His hands still rested on her waist, and he felt no inclination to move them, no matter how improper it was to leave them there. She shivered in his grasp, and he realised that he was being a boor, keeping her out here in the cold.

  “Your Grace. I am delighted to meet you, although I could have wished to do so in a far more elegant manner. I am Lady Eleanor Willoughby. My sister, Juliana, is the Duchess of Kilmerstan.”

  “Elegance can be overrated, my Lady. But perhaps getting inside off this ice paved terrace would be wise, nonetheless.”

  “I believe that you are right, Your Grace. And I thank you, again, for the rescue. If you would be so kind as to open the door…?”

  He reached back and opened the door as she had requested, allowing her to step past him, and into the house. He did not follow her. Instead, he pulled the door closed again, and stood there, letting the fine drift of snow fall onto his heated skin.

  He’d come here hoping to find enough people he could talk to, to not feel utterly out of place, to perhaps allow the festive season to feel festive for the first time since his father’s death two years before, to pretend that he knew what he was doing, with the title, with his life, and with his responsibilities.

  All of which might still be possible.

  What he hadn’t expected was to be confronted by temptation incarnate, wrapped in a package of perfect innocence. Yet that was exactly what had just happened.

  The second that she had met his eyes, he had felt something, some deep pull inside him. He wanted her – not just as light entertainment – he wanted her in a way he had never wanted a woman before. And she was afraid of him. He’d seen it in her gaze – he knew the look of fear, for he frequently inspired it in others.

  No matter how he wanted her, it was abundantly clear that he could not have her, ever. He’d not push himself upon a woman who feared him.

  ~~~~~

  Eleanor was almost shaking. Not just from the cold, or from the shock of having almost fallen, but from her encounter with His Grace of Braeness.

  She had been a fool to go out onto the terrace in the first place, but she had been in the library – which had doors onto the other end of the terrace – when a lady whom she definitely did not wish to encounter had entered. She had slipped away by the quickest available route, not realising that the weather had worsened, and the light snow had become almost sleet, freezing to ice on the stone.

  The miserable conditions made the walk along to the parlour doors challenging, but to have so badly lost her balance as to fall… and in the presence of a gentleman, albeit that she had not seen him at all, until he’d caught her….
r />   She was angry with herself for that. But what had shaken her was her reaction to his touch, to the moment when she had met his eyes. If she had been unbalanced before, she was far more so after that moment, and had badly needed his hands on her to stay upright. It was unconscionable that the man had affected her so strongly!

  If she was going to react intensely to a man, why could it not have been someone more… civilised… and less intimidating. She did not want to find him attractive, especially given all of the whispered rumours about him, but she most definitely did. He was sinfully handsome, and for all his wild appearance, the look in his eyes had held a warmth which had made her forget the cold for a moment.

  The parlour was warm, and the gathered guests were grouped in small clusters, all talking – gossiping, no doubt. This Christmas House party of her sister’s had seemed like a good idea when Juliana had invited her – a chance to perhaps meet a man she could care for, after her very successful Season had still not resulted in her gaining a husband. Her mother had certainly been enthusiastic about coming. But now that they were at Kilmerstan Castle, Eleanor was not so sure.

  Of the guests who had arrived so far, there were present a number of both gentlemen and ladies whom Eleanor was not pleased to see. Gentlemen who had seemed interesting, until she had come to know more of their character, and ladies who had made a point of pursuing the same gentlemen whom Eleanor had been interested in. Like the one whose company was so undesirable that it had sent her out onto the terrace in the icy snow. Fortunately, most in the parlour at that moment were people she found bearable.

  Eleanor moved across towards the fireplace, feeling the need for the sensation of heat on her chilled hands. As she went, she listened carefully to the conversations around her – out of habit, as much as anything else, for one did not survive well in society without being constantly aware of what was being gossiped about.

  When she came to a stop near the fire, she found herself near a group of young women who seemed to be discussing the gentlemen present. She dropped onto a padded stool which was providentially placed close to the fire, and reached out her hands to the warmth. The voices behind her continued.