Eternally My Duke

By Dawn Brower

​A love only a fairy tale can design...

Lady Delilah Everly hasn't led the charmed life some might believe. Evil didn't even begin to describe her mother or how she treated those she was supposed to love. It hardened Delilah to love and she learned early to depend on herself and started to gain the skills necessary to survive on her own.

Marrok Palmer, the Duke of Wolfton can't fathom the turn his life has taken. To protect his sister he was forced to take his father's life. The previous duke was not a good man, but having a hand in his death is destroying Marrok.

Both Marrok and Delilah both go on a journey. Through a fate neither could have imagined they cross paths. In their travels they must learn to lean on each other. Along the way they discover the possibility of an eternal love, but only if they're willing to take a leap of faith and accept each other faults and all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dawn Brower
• Release date: Jun 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463432792

Book preview

Eternally My Duke

Eternally My Duke

Ever Beloved Book Four

Dawn Brower

Monarchal Glenn Press

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Eternally My Duke 2019 Copyright © Dawn Brower

Cover Artist and Edits Victoria Miller

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This book is for everyone that loves a good story and especially enjoys fairytales…

Author’s Note

This series has been loosely based on fairytales and had minor fairytale elements. Book four was the most obvious with the Little Red Riding Hood and Cinderella elements. This one has a wolf of sorts and an wicked stepsister turned archer.

I hope this series was enjoyable for everyone. I had a lot of fun writing these books and bringing these character’s stories to you.

Angry people are not always wise. 

Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Epilogue

Excerpt: Odds of Love

Prologue

Excerpt: Chance of Love

Prologue

Afterword

About The Author

Also by Dawn Brower

Acknowledgements

Thanks to those that helped me polish this book. Elizabeth Evans you’re my number one. You’re the best ever. Also thanks once again to my awesome editor and cover artist, Victoria Miller. You make me a better writer and without you I might not be where I am today. Your artistic talent is amazing as always.

For all the people who still believe in love. May you always have it in your life.

Prologue

The Earl of Townsend’s estate lay near the decadent beaches of Saint Ives in Cornwall. Lady Delilah Everly had always adored her ancestral home. She’d spent the first nine years of her life there. When her father died and the title had passed on to her cousin, Oscar Everly, she’d bemoaned the fact they couldn’t stay long. Her cousin wasn’t much older than her either. He was five years her senior and still attended Eton, but his mother, the greedy witch, wanted to take control of everything immediately. She liked her role as an earl’s mother. Luckily, her cousin’s guardian had a heart and allowed them to stay as long as they needed to.

Her mother was determined to make another wondrous match and move up in society. It wasn’t enough to be the wife of an earl. She wanted to be a duchess one day, and she’d do anything to make that happen. Lady Penelope, her mother, set her eyes on someone that could potentially inherit a dukedom. It was the best she could achieve as a widow. Poor Lord Victor Simms had no idea what he’d allowed into his family, and the future his son Ryan would have at the hands of Delilah’s mother.

Some days, Delilah wondered if her mother had helped her father along to an early demise. She’d started to believe it in her soul when her stepfather passed away as her father had. Surely that couldn’t be a coincidence. In order to survive, Delilah had hardened her heart and done whatever she could. Her mother was not an easy person to live with. She used everyone around her, even her own daughters. Her sister, Mirabella was delicate and didn’t fare well at their mother’s hands. It was up to Delilah to find a husband and help them both escape her evil ways. She was only ten and six. There were not a whole lot of options at her disposal. Not in the wilds of Dorset or back at home in Saint Ives, but she’d written her cousin, asking for his assistance. He controlled the estate now and had a better chance of coming to her aid.

Her cousin hadn’t answered her. She doubted he would.

Delilah, her mother bellowed. Come down here this instant. I need you to start a fire.

Ryan had been delegated to be her mother’s serving boy. When his grandfather turned up to take him away, that job had been given to Delilah. Mirabella lived in the clouds, or a more apt description, her books. There weren’t many left for her to read. Money was sparse, and they were selling everything that wasn’t nailed down. Delilah didn’t know how much longer they could survive. They had one servant left: the cook. Without the older woman, they’d have starved long ago. None of them even knew how to use the oven or boil water for tea. She shuddered at the idea.

Delilah headed down the stairs and entered the sitting room. They were lucky to have any place to live. The manor belonged to Ryan, and he could have ordered them to leave. One day, she’d thank him for that bit of generosity. He should hate them all for the way he’d been treated. When she reached the sitting room, she wiped her hands on her threadbare dress and approached her mother. You bellowed? She lifted a brow.

Don’t dawdle, girl, her mother chastised her and waved a hand toward the hearth. Not one strand of her dark hair was out of place. Her dress, while old, was pristine. Lady Penelope didn’t like to be unpresentable or get her own hands dirty with work. Light the fire. I’m cold. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered for effect.

I don’t know how, she reminded her mother. None of us do.

Ryan had been gone two days. They were floundering, badly. If they didn’t start learning how to take care of themselves soon, she despaired what their future would be like. It didn’t look good at all.

You’re useless, her mother ground out. Go get the cook. Have her teach you while she lights it.

Delilah rolled her eyes and did as her mother bid. She turned on her heels and headed toward the kitchen. When she found the cook, Freya MacTavish, she asked, Will you please help me light the fire? Then inspiration took hold. Soon they wouldn’t be able to afford to employ her or she could die. Freya was ancient. And will you teach me how to cook?

Of course, Freya answered. Follow me. She moved slowly toward the sitting room. Delilah could almost hear her bones creak with each step she took. Delilah marveled at her stamina for her age. She had to be near seventy years. Lady Penelope should have given her a stipend to retire years ago, but her mother, true to form made the cook work long past her prime. When she reached the sitting room cook grabbed the tinderbox and held it out to Delilah. Open it up, dear.

She did as the older lady instructed. Now what should I do. She held the opened box before Freya.

Take out the steel striker and the flint, she ordered. Strike them together over the tinder. Freya took a piece of tinder out and placed it near the firewood in the hearth. Delilah took the steel and flint and rubbed them against each other over the scorched linen. Nothing happened. You need to press them harder together if you wish to make sparks.

Delilah shook her head and tried again. Sparks jumped off the steel and flint, and soon the tinder took flame. The old lady blew on it, and the fire grew and spread over the wood. I did it, Delilah exclaimed happily. She’d never been so proud of an accomplishment before.

That you did, Freya said.

It took you long enough, her mother complained. Now bring tea at once.

Delilah glared at her mother, but kept her mouth closed. It wouldn’t do any good to speak her mind. Her mother would use it against her. She’d probably take a cane to her for her rebellion. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d done so. Penelope expected obedience always. Yes, Mother, she said demurely.

No, not you, she said. Sit now. We need to discuss your future.

It was something she’d been hoping to avoid. Now that she’d turned ten and six, her mother would do anything to have her married. Delilah wanted to avoid it if she could. It