The Duke I Love

By Roxie Brandon

Amazing value Regency five-story collection.

Charming dukes with attitudes and kind hearts. Lovely ladies who want to find love.
This Regency romance collection is a sweet read with a guaranteed happily ever after.

The full collection includes:

1.Duchess for the Charming Duke
2.The Lady and the Beast
3.The Rogue’s Bride
4.The Duke’s Margaret
5.The Duke’s Violet

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roxie Brandon
• Release date: Jun 10, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463302422

Roxie Brandon

Roxie Brandon is an author of historical and contemporary romance, beauty and fashion books.Her romances range in setting from Medieval times to the Twentieth Century.She loves walks in the countryside and having afternoon tea with family and friends.

Book preview

Duchess for the Charming Duke

Lady Evelyn’s life changed when her mother died and her step-mother Lady Cecilia entered her life. Still everything became worse when her father died leaving them in poverty. Her wicked step-mother decided to use Evelyn as a servant in their household. Evelyn was resigned to her fate and was just happy that she at least had her step-sister Lady Jane in her life. Until she met the Duke of Langley and spoke to him in the shadows.

The Duke of Langley, Julien had no desire to remarry after his first wife jumped to her death from the balcony of their home. However, after losing the third governess for his children, his mother convinced him that finding himself a mother for his twins would be better…More permanent. Set out to find such a woman to act in the sole capacity of mother and nothing more, Julien found the perfect woman. Only she was a servant, way beneath him for marriage. And there was another huge problem— he had feelings for her. He did not want feelings in the equation.

Against the machinations of one wicked step-mother and an unfeeling mother; with expectations of marriage without love, would this maid be the next Duchess of Langley?

CHAPTER ONE

I’ll get it Ridley, Julien announced, walking by the butler to answer the door himself. From Ridley’s frown, he didn’t like that the Lord of the house was usurping his duties but he would have learned by now that Julien did what he darn well pleased. At the moment, Julien was too stretched thin to stand by and watch another open the door. Like this house on Gosvernor’s Square, the butler that came along with it was all pomp.

The second Julien opened the door, his mother the Dowager duchess of Langley swept inside. Cloaked in rich perfume, Julien had to stop his breath until she passed him, her head held high, her neck stiff as though the elaborate hairstyle she had atop her head was too heavy for her neck. He barely contained a grimace as he remembered the mother he had known growing up to this overly exuberant woman standing before him.

Lady Langley was dressed in the height of fashion in a pink dress more suitable for a debutante than a woman of her years. Her waist was cinched tight and her cheeks overly done with rogue. Julien never wanted his mother to act more like he was her son than at that moment when he felt everything was crumbling in his life. He was failing.

Mother, thanks for coming. Some houses were relaxed once the doors were closed but not in the Langley household. For as long as he could remember, Julien and his mother’s relationship had been formal. Little warmth existed between them.

Your missive said it was urgent, she said, frowning her annoyance. Is it the children?

She extended her arm and Julien took it, chagrined that she gave him a reproachful look. He escorted her to the sitting room.

Yes, we have parted ways with the last governess, he answered then turned to ask Ridley to have one of the servants bring tea and scones for them.

Surely you do not expect me to babysit the little rascals.

Julien would not have anticipated such given he knew his mother all too well. She was too busy being social and enjoying her days as an unfettered widow to think about giving an eye on her grandchildren.

No, mother, he answered, I however am seeking recommendations for another governess. I’m certain you know of someone.

My dear boy, after your children ran off the last three governesses in space of a year, not one soul is willing to work with the brats.

At that time the maid appeared and laid out a tray of sweets and tea. Julien poured the tea and his mother ignored the scones. I do not wish to gain a pound, or I shall not be able to fit into my most beautiful gowns I had created for the upcoming season.

Mother, the governess.

She scowled at him. I will see what I can find for you on such short notice but really, Julien. You are in charge of such vast holdings and properties and yet you cannot handle your brood! What did the little vagabonds do this time?

They did aught, he answered, barely saved from grinding his teeth. He had little fondness for the way his mother described the children that came from his loins, even if her descriptions were apt. His children were unruly and ill-mannered. I walked in on her taking a cane to Philip’s backside. I did not take too kindly to the woman caning my son.

Bah! A little spanking will not hurt the boy. Your father did spank you when you got out of hand and look how fine you turned out.

Julien refrained from speaking. He only had turned out fine when it suited his mother. Other times, he was her worst disappointment— the son she would have wanted to die instead of his older brother Cameron.

I will not have anyone cane my children, he insisted, remembering the way his father would render blows on his small frame when he was a child. He always hit Julien where no one would have seen the bruises covered with expensive frippery.

You can hardly keep changing governesses, she pointed out. The gossip mills are already turning about your uncontrollable children. What you need is not a governess. You need a wife!

Julien paled at the mere mention of the word wife. At thirty-two years old, a man who had little fears, the word was frightening enough in his thought much more to hear it from his mother’s lips. He was convinced the last thing he needed right now was a wife with her incessant nagging and lack of understanding about the only kind of life he was able to offer her, one without love.

His heart, what little that was left of it had been ripped apart when his wife died eighteen months ago.

I already had a wife, Julien remarked. I scarcely have need for another.

Fiddlesticks, Julien! she exclaimed. You’re well past the appropriate time of mourning to go courting again.

I don’t think I can.

You will do what needs to be done, she snapped. Those children of yours need a mother. You cannot raise them on your own. By all means choose someone solely for the role of mother so you will have more time to pay attention to the business of the estate. Grown men have no business spending so much time with little children.

But Julien loved to wile the time away with his children. In fact, he noted they mostly got into mischief when he was not around.

Lady Langley placed her teacup and saucer back onto the tray and rose to her feet. Well, I better get a little nap. I do still plan to visit Cecilia Bridgewood’s ball later tonight. I will ask around and see if I can get any word on a good governess. At this stage, I still think you would benefit more from finding your children a mother. A mother won’t be able to run off if they misbehave.

She sauntered from the sitting room, not understanding the devastating effects of her words on her son. Julien remained seated for a while, sweating and feeling as though he would pass out. His mother’s last statement was the last he expected to hear. His mother was wrong. A mother could run off leaving her children behind. His wife had done this to their children.

He shuddered remembering her scream as she plunged from the tower on the top floor to her death. One reason he tried to avoid the haute ton was the way they gossiped behind their fans as though he couldn’t hear them. The first time he had ventured outside after Matilde’s death, he had heard the cruelest thoughts from the ladies of the ton while the men offered him ale.

As the maid appeared to clear away the tea supplies, Julien rose to his feet and left the sitting room. He had to check up on his eight year old twins to find out what they were up to. As he climbed the stairs, his mother’s words replayed in his head and he wondered if she was right and he was being selfish in not securing a mother for the twins. He never was of the mind to ever become leg-shackled to another woman again, not after his last debacle with his wife.

Should he put his children’s needs ahead of his own in this instance and how did one go about choosing a wife to be the mother of one’s kids, rather than to share his bed?

CHAPTER TWO

 Jane, will you hold still? You are twitching more than a dog with flies!

If Lady Evelyn had hoped to render her step-sister and best friend, Jane still so she could continue with her painting, she was sadly mistaken. At Evelyn’s words Jane dissolved into a fit of laugh and collapsed onto the ground rather than hold the pose Evelyn had taught her. Frustrated, Evelyn, the older of the two huffed and blew a lock of curly red hair from before her face. She glanced at her unfinished sketch of the young woman who was wiping at her eyes and shook her head. Maybe she should call it a day. Jane was not exactly known for keeping still.

Sister, my apologies, Jane choked, getting to her knees. When her hands proved ineffective to get rid of her tears she grasped the hem of her day dress and wiped her eyes with it. ’Tis just that you say the weirdest things. Comparing me to a dog! I know I should be upset at you for that but I cannot. I am in too good of a mood.

With a sigh Evelyn placed her pencil onto the stone bench she was sitting on and did the same with her sketch pad. Only then did she turn her attention to the girl rising to her feet. At seventeen years old, Jane was three years Evelyn’s junior. The blond beauty with round cheeks punctuated by dimples was the envy of ladies in London but Evelyn loved her too dearly to feel the same. She had long resigned herself to the fact that quite frankly she was a plain Jane. There was naught that was extraordinary about her.

I canna paint you if you are not won’t to stand still, sister, Evelyn rebuked gently. I think that is it for the day.

Please forgive me, Evelyn but I am excited about attending Lady Bridgewood’s ball tonight.

Evelyn frowned at her. Is it because Lord Canterbury will be there?

Jane’s cheeks took on a pinkish tint and her eyes gleamed with happiness. A lady never gossips about gentlemen.

Poppycock! We have done plenty gossiping about men and by we I mean you chatter about boys and I listen and give you the wisdom of my years.

Dear sister, may I remind you that you are a but a few years my elder? You are hardly bubbling with the wisdom of the ancient.

Evelyn’s lips twitched at her sister’s comment. Nevertheless, I pray you be careful with Lord Canterbury.

Jane gave a heavy sigh and flopped onto her back in the grass, staring up at the sky with a dreamy expression. I cannot help myself, Evelyn. He is the handsomest man I have ever been blessed to see. And he dances magnificently.

He is naught but a second son, Evelyn reminded her. We both know your mama is of a mind to suit you with someone with more influence.

Jane grimaced. She would not match me with someone who I do not care for.

Evelyn did not respond because she did not want to disagree with her sister and have her upset. The truth was there was little Jane’s mother, Lady Cecilia would not do in Evelyn’s opinion. The woman was vapid and the worst thing that had happened to her since Evelyn lost her mother five years ago. Only having Jane in her life almost made it bearable. The woman treated Evelyn no better than she did the servants. In fact, as the servants were being dismissed one by one, as the lady of the house she had taken it upon herself to appoint Evelyn in their stead to complete some of the household tasks. Evelyn usually did them without complaint because so long as she was busy she was not around for the woman to torture. Evelyn swore being locked in a room with the woman for fifteen minutes was worse than being in Bedlam for one’s entire life.

Do you think she would match me with someone I do not love? Jane persisted.

Evelyn sighed. I canna-cannot know for certain. Often she had to correct herself and remind herself that she was no longer in Scotland. When her mother had died she and her father had moved to England for her father to claim a title bestowed upon him. In less than a fortnight of being in England he had been snared by Lady Cecilia.

I would run away if she did, Jane threatened, her tone sulking. Tis bloody unfair that a man gets to marry who he chooses but we are not mistresses of our own fate.

Such is the way of the world, sister. We either conform or be ostracized.

Being ostracized by the ton was not something Evelyn would have wished upon anyone. It was already hard enough to exist as a woman. Once one’s reputation was tarnished, there was very little that would be left for a comfortable and happy life. Not only would the gossip mill never hear the end of it but being in polite company would be extremely difficult.

Come, let us go in before your mama has cause to come and find us. I will help you to pick out a beautiful gown that you will wear tonight to impress Lord Canterbury. He will have no choice but to dance with you tonight.

That worked to cheer up Jane and Evelyn sighed because the crisis was averted. Jane was a fragile thing prone to hysterics and tears. For that reason Evelyn was protective of the younger woman, even against her own mother. Often Lady Cecilia involved Jane into activities Jane had no wish to participate in except she did not have much of a choice.

They made their walk through the side door which led to the kitchen. Evelyn smiled at Merry, the cook who was one of the only servants left in the house. Her heart squeezed as she tried not to remember what this place had been like before her father had run it into the ground. Even while she had been in Scotland she had visited often with her parents to this her uncle’s home. Since her uncle had not married nor produced an heir, Evelyn’s own father had been passed his title.

As they made their way quietly up the stairs, the evidence of the misfortune that had befallen them became more evident. Patches on the wall showed where expensive paintings had once hung but which had been sold of for way less than they were worth. They rarely received visitors anymore less anyone saw the object of their shame. All because her father had squandered their livelihood gambling. Since his own death a year ago when he had fallen from the stairs in drunkenness and broken his neck, she had no close living relatives.

Evelyn tried not to let the sadness of the situation get to her. Once in Jane’s room, she channeled her energy into going through the other girl’s wardrobe. Despite their state of lack of money Jane’s wardrobe was extensive. They were not all fully paid for either. Lady Cecilia had insisted that the only way out of their predicament was for Jane to marry well. With Jane’s looks and infectious personality everyone expected her to marry well. That was the reason for Evelyn’s concern about Jane’s affection for Lord Canterbury. Although his purse strings were fairly bursting at the seams because he was wealthy, why would Lady Cecilia settle for a younger son who would not inherit the title? Evelyn feared Jane would be pushed into a loveless marriage because of her greedy mother.

What do you think of this? Jane asked, holding a gorgeous dress in organza and taffeta to her chest.

It looks lovely, Evelyn remarked and for a second a rare jealousy scratched at her heart. She was so surprised at the emotion because she had never felt envy of her sister before. However, seeing her sister with the dress against her chest in such a manner had Evelyn, just for the briefest moment wishing. She wished she had even half of her step-sister’s beauty and the pretty apparel that were in Jane’s wardrobe.

Hmm, I think I have something that you should wear tonight, Jane said out of the blue and made Evelyn feel only worse that she had envy of her.

I will wear one of my own gowns, Jane.

But they are so plane and out of style, Jane remarked in her usual outspoken manner. I know you do very little with your appearance but Evelyn, you are pretty in your own way.

In what way? Evelyn scoffed. It is okay, Jane. I am comfortable being the plain sister.

Only you are not. There is nothing plane about you. Okay so maybe your face is a little too long and your eyes are like saucers but tis not necessarily a bad thing. I think I would much prefer your frame to mine. At least you do not have dance partners looking down your bodice.

Evelyn laughed staring at her seventeen-year-old sister’s bust. She was almost flat-chested with little peaches instead of the watermelons protruding from Jane’s chest.

Yes, I am most fortunate, Evelyn agreed sarcastically.

Before Jane could respond, her bedroom door was pushed open and Lady Cecilia entered. One would never be able to tell how close the family was to being paupers by the way she was dressed. Head held high as regal as Her Royal Majesty, the Queen, Lady Cecilia moved with poise and grace. It was clear looking at her where Jane had come by her stunning good looks. Her mother was beautiful even as an older woman who had survived two husbands. She was still more likely to snag herself a third husband than Evelyn to even garner a proposal, something she had relayed to the younger woman way too often.

We have an invitation! Rarely did Evelyn see such excitement in her step-mother who favored scowls. She was waving a cream-colored card with beautiful imprints.

An invitation? Jane parroted. Evelyn knew better than to say anything. She had come to learn that when around her step-mother she fared better when she spoke less and made herself as invisible as possible.

Yes, it’s from the Dowager Duchess of Langley. The Duke is out of mourning!

The Duke? Jane inquired.

For heaven’s sake gel, will you keep up? Lady Cecilia snapped. The Duke of Langley.

But didn’t the Duke of Langley pass away?

Evelyn held her tongue instead of correcting Jane that the current Duke of Langley was very much alive. While she had never met the man, at least not according to her memory, she had heard so much about him. There was a lot you learned standing on the sidelines but she also knew better than to believe everything she heard. Usually there was a measure of truth in gossip, but how much was true in what she had heard about the Duke of Langley?

The current Duke of Langley is the second child of the Dowager Duchess, Lady Cecilia answered, tapping her right foot impatiently. He inherited the title when his brother passed away. There is word that he never wanted the title but that is moot now that he is the Duke. Jane, you must absolutely look your most fabulous tonight.

Jane’s face was stricken in horror as she realized the implication of what her mother had said. But mama, I do not even know this Duke that you speak of.

That is the whole point of looking your best tonight, dear. When he sees you, he will not be able to resist claiming a dance. That is when you must do everything I have taught you. Flirt.

But mama, I am certain I will not favor this gentleman!

You will favor him! He is a Duke! You know we need you to marry well.

But mama! Jane spluttered and turned to Evelyn who had been silent. Her features cleared up and she smiled, obviously coming up with some idea. I know. Why not have Evelyn flirt with the Duke! Maybe she will like the Duke.

Evelyn’s face turned a bright red at the ridiculous suggestion. There was no way someone as wealthy as the Duke would look at her, plain and uninteresting and select her as his betrothed. If according to the gossip he was as devastatingly handsome as she had heard then there was no choice of this happening.

Lady Cecilia laughed so hard tears rolled down her cheeks. Do be serious, dear. Evelyn’s only hope is to marry some portly man in the countryside looking for a wife to ease the suffering of his last days on earth.

Despite earlier admitting the Duke would not give her a second glance, hearing the woman say such things hurt more than Evelyn would have admitted. She was disappointed in herself for still caring what her step-mother said. She should be used to this by now. She should be able to ignore it but it didn’t hurt any less.

Mama, that is not true. If we could get her a new dress—

Hush now darling, Jane’s mother interrupted her. Enough of the idle chatter. Let us find something for you to wear tonight. That muslin gown with the low bodice should work. A man does so like a woman with something to offer up top. She glanced at Evelyn and smirked nastily. Run along then. If you have nothing to do, go and help Meredith in the kitchen.

Yes, step-mother, Evelyn remarked and prepared to walk out of the room. She gasped when Lady Cecilia grabbed her upper arm hard and jerked her to a stop.

What did you just call me?

Step- step-mother? Evelyn was confused. She had addressed the other woman as step-mother since she married her sire.

Do not refer to me as such ever again. The elder woman squeezed Evelyn’s arm to make her point clear. From now on you call me Lady Cecilia, just like the other serving wenches. Your father brought this mess upon us and you will do your part to ensure our comfort. Now get out of my sight.

Her face as a bright shade of red as her unruly curly hair Evelyn dashed out of the