Christmas with THAT Duke: Regency Romance (Regency Scandals Book 3) Read online

  REGENCY ROMANCE

  Christmas With THAT Duke

  Regency Scandals Book 3

  Arietta Richmond

  Dreamstone Publishing © 2020

  www.dreamstonepublishing.com

  Copyright © 2020 Dreamstone Publishing and Arietta Richmond,

  All rights reserved.

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

  ISBN-13: 978-1-925915-76-1

  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 my books, and what you’d like to see more of – thank you – I’m listening. I hope that you enjoy this series, just as much as my other books.

  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

  Christmas With THAT Duke

  Disclaimer

  Dedication

  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 Lady Mariel’s Scandalous Love

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  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

  Books in the Nettlefold Chronicles

  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)

  To Love a Dashing Lord (Contains Books 10, 11, 12, and 13 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)

  A Minx for a Merchant (Primrose)

  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)

  Lady Canterford’s Conspirators (The Mayfair Ladies Poetry Society)

  A six book series (coming soon)

  The Regency Scandals Series

  The Gift of a Christmas Scandal

  Lady Mariel’s Scandalous Love

  Christmas with That Duke

  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

  Her Passionate Duke

  Her Absent Duke

  Her Determined Duke

  Her Generous Duke

  Her Christmas Duke (Coming Soon)

  The Duke’s Christmas Vow

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

  Themed Collections

  The Regency Christmas Hearts Collection

  The Regency Spring and Valentine’s Hearts Collection

  The Regency Summer Hearts Collection

  The Regency Autumn Hearts Collection

  Chapter One

  “Where are we?”

  Violetta Tytherton, Countess of Caldicot, could see nothing outside the carriage door but a wall of white, and the snow encrusted footman who held the door.

  “An Inn, my Lady. We’ll get no further today – we barely made it here, the snow is so deep. Let me help you across to the Inn door, and then I will try to retrieve your belongings.”

  Violetta shivered, wrapping the carriage blanket around her, over her winter bonnet and pelisse, in the vain hope of remaining slightly warmer than the snow. The half boots she wore had not been designed for this, but if she stayed in the carriage, she would likely freeze to death. The snow had become, over the last half hour, a blizzard.

  Cautiously, taking the footman’s hand, she eased down the steps, wriggling her foot on the snow in an attempt to dig through to earth underneath. Only ice met her exploration. She took a deep breath, and stepped forward.

  She slipped, and only the footman’s arm about her kept her upright. Another deep breath of the freezing air, another sliding step forward. The carriage disappeared behind her in the white haze, and she was suddenly suspended in an impenetrable whiteness.

  “How do you know that we are going in the right direction?”

  “Trut
h to tell, my Lady, I can’t be certain – but I did see the door before the snow closed in, so I think that we are going the right way.”

  It was not a reassuring answer.

  She did not know how long it took, how long they struggled through the deepening snow, but eventually, just as she was beginning to think that her nose might be lost to frostbite, they collided with something solid. A wall.

  “Which way?”

  The footman reached out to the side as far as he could.

  “This way, my Lady – I can feel the edge of either a doorframe, or a window.”

  They edged along, the wall making movement somewhat easier, and the edge which he had felt turned out to be a doorframe. The footman pounded on the door, and it opened. They literally fell through it, to land in an undignified heap on the floor. Two maids dragged them in as the Innkeep slammed the door shut again.

  “You’re lucky you didn’t freeze to death out there.”

  The voice came from in front of Violetta somewhere, as she pushed herself up to kneel on the floor, trying to blink her snow encrusted eyes clear. It was a voice which she felt in her very bones, a voice from the past – richer and deeper now, but still the same voice.

  Before she could even see him, she knew who it was – and cursed the circumstances which had brought her here, into the same room as the man she never wanted to see again.

  Her eyes came clear, finally.

  He sat there, next to the fire, the picture of elegance. Long held anger and bitterness drove her to sharpness.

  “Perhaps not so lucky, given that I find you here.”

  He had the temerity to laugh.

  She ignored it.

  Her footman had gained his feet, and now offered her his arm, helping her to stand, even as he called to the Innkeeper.

  “Innkeep – we will need rooms for the Countess, and somewhere for myself, and the coachman – assuming that he has managed to get the horses to the stables.”

  The Innkeeper laughed, in a manner which suggested that the footman had just asked for the impossible. Violetta’s heart sank. She had almost nothing with her, and what she did have was outside in her carriage. She had sent Amelie, her maid, on ahead with the other carriage, and all of her luggage, so that everything would be organised by the time that she reached her cousin’s estate. Now, from the sound of that laugh, she might not even have a room to sleep in – and she was quite sure that she would be stuck in this place at least overnight, if not longer, given the way that it was snowing.

  The situation was intolerable – especially with Kit sitting there, grinning at her discomposure.

  “My Lady, Countess or not, I’ve no rooms left. We’ve more than the usual complement of people already, in almost every room.”

  Violetta dusted the last of the snow off her skirts, letting the carriage blanket drop to rest on her arms like a shawl, and ignoring the growing puddle of melted snow at her feet. She must look a sight!

  “Surely you can manage something…?”

  “My Lady, your man and the coachman can sleep in the hayloft, with the other servants, if they can manage to make it to the stables, but for you… I don’t know what we can do, unless you want to sleep by the fire in here. I do not lie when I say that every room is full twice over.”

  Violetta groaned. If that was her only option, she would do it, but it was vastly unappealing. Any attempt to sleep here, amongst the collection of rather scruffy men who filled the room, who would no doubt drink themselves into either a snoring oblivion, or an obnoxious intent to assault a lady, was likely to end very, very badly.

  She stared towards the fire, trying to decide what to do. Her eyes, seemingly of their own accord, went, rather than to the flames, to Kit. He met her gaze, those green-gold eyes, which were now filled with amusement, drawing her in, as they had always been able to do. His lips twisted into a rather sardonic smile.

  Around them, the room had fallen into silence, as everyone present waited to see how her dilemma would play out. She felt as if she was an actress, playing a part in a very dark and twisted comedy. It was rare for her not to immediately see a way forward in any situation – after all, she’d had enough practice, since that fateful day more than ten years ago.

  But now, there was a level where she just wanted to crumple back down onto the floor and cry.

  She would not, however – not in front of Kit.

  His smile became broader, and his voice – that delicious, velvet toned voice – cut into the expectant silence.

  “Perhaps I might offer a solution to your dilemma, Innkeep. I am fortunate enough to have the only suite of rooms in the Inn – a small parlour, which has two rooms set either side of it. If you can provide a pallet for my man to sleep on, in the parlour, or down here, then I am willing to allow the Countess to take the second bedroom. I am sure that it would be adequate for the Countess and,” he looked around, as if just realising something, then brought his gaze back to Violetta, his eyebrow raised, “… her maid – I assume that there is a maid?”

  Violetta drew herself up, embarrassed, as the entire room studied her. It was rather scandalous for a lady to be in this position, even if she was a widow, and had a maid. But without a maid… there were many who would make assumptions about her virtue – or lack thereof.

  “There is no maid. My maid, and most of my luggage, were three hours ahead of us on the road. I must hope that they can outrun the storm, and reach our intended destination.”

  Kit’s eyebrow lifted even higher, but he simply nodded.

  “All the easier to fit you in then.”

  The Innkeeper looked rather shocked, and his voice was hesitant when he spoke.

  “Your Grace… that is... very generous of you, I’m sure. But… a Lady… alone… I don’t know what else I can offer her, but still…”

  Every eye in the room now shone with salacious delight at the circumstance she found herself in. And she knew that Kit was amused by that, that he had done this intentionally.

  Then, as Violetta considered what possible way she might refuse his offer, whilst realising that, sickeningly, there was no other option, he made it worse.

  “Do not concern yourself, Innkeep – Lady Caldicot and I are very old friends. I knew her before she married her now deceased husband. Surely I can assist a friend in need?”

  The utter gall of him! Now every serving maid, and every patron of this thrice damned Inn would think them lovers, think her a widow open to seduction by any man who showed an interest. And for him to say that they were ‘old friends’ – well! That was a rather distorted version of the truth.

  The Innkeeper was looking relieved at his words, although her own footman looked a little confused -as well he might be, never having seen Kit before. The Innkeeper turned to her again.

  “My Lady… are you… are you willing to accept the Duke’s offer? I know that it is very unconventional, but we truly have no other rooms – to accept his offer is the only way in which you might have a room to yourself…”

  Kit’s eyes were full of laughter, although he said nothing as he watched her.

  If he wanted to see her humbled, he was about to get his wish, for she would rather the proximity of Kit than risk trying to sleep in this room, with the louts who now regarded her with hopeful lust.

  “Yes. If that is the only option, beyond sleeping here by the fire, then I will take it.”

  Kit rose to his feet, elegant and with a presence which would have been as well in a society ballroom as here in a country Inn, and offered her his arm.

  “Then let me show you to your room, my Lady. Innkeep, please send up food and wine, and after that, I expect that my Lady will require a bath, and a maid to assist her.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he took her hand, placed it on his arm, and led her from the room. Behind them, conversation burst to life – gossip about them, no doubt. He said nothing as they went up the stairs, but he did not need to – the warmth of him beneath her hand, the scent
of him, still that same cologne, after all these years – all conspired to make her head spin.

  It was just the lack of food, she told herself firmly. She had let go of all thought of this man, many years ago, when he had abandoned her.

  *****

  Christophe Bourdain, the Duke of Lustering, was a man sought after by the women of the ton, but a man who did not allow himself any closeness with any of them. Eventually, he supposed, he would have to choose one, and get an heir for the title, but he would have as little to do with her as possible.

  One betrayal was enough for a lifetime – he would not invite another.

  He had learnt to approach everything with humour – often of a rather sharp-edged kind – and to enjoy himself, within the rules which he had set for his life. The bitterness which hid beneath that charming, laughing exterior was long held, and had settled into the core of him, defining him in certain ways.

  But he had never expected to face a situation in which he might exact even a modicum of revenge.

  For near ten years, he had never been in the same room with her, as life took them in different directions, mostly even keeping them in separate countries. Yet here he was, with her on his arm, alone in a darkened hallway, leading her to his room.

  It was worthy of the kind of laughter which quickly became hysterical, and he was not sure, despite what he had just put her through down there, whether the joke was on her, or him. She had dealt with it with dignity, at least, and a sharpness which might cut through the guard of a lesser man.

  Despite himself, he was intrigued to see what kind of woman she was now – was she still a self-serving adventuress, who was simply expert at concealing that beneath a veneer of care? Or had she grown into something better – or perhaps, worse?

  They reached the door at the end of the hallway, and he pulled out his key.

  “This door opens into the parlour, then a bedroom opens from it on each side. We are at the end of the building, so all three rooms have decent windows – not that you would see much but white at present – and it is less noisy, for each room only has one common wall with a room occupied by anyone else.” He turned the key, and pushed the door open. His valet rose from where he sat by the fire, a questioning expression on his face. “Carlo, this is Lady Caldicot. Due to the shortage of rooms, I have offered her the room you were to use. The Innkeeper will send up a pallet for you to sleep on, here in the parlour, or you can take it down to the common room should you so choose. Please move your belongings out here.”