The Duke's Reluctant Bride

By Roxie Brandon

Amazing value Regency four-story collection.

Charming dukes with attitudes and kind hearts. Lovely ladies who want to find love. You'll find all of this and much more in this collection.
This Regency romance collection is a sweet read with a guaranteed happily ever after.

The collection includes:
1.A Bride for the Charming Duke
Having just emerged from mourning following her father's death, Rebecca Harrington is exactly where she wishes to be: an unofficial companion to her aunt. Unfortunately, her ambitious uncle has other plans for her future. He lays down an ultimatum: either Rebecca marries the man of his choosing, or he'll force her sixteen-year-old sister to do so instead.

To save herself from an unwanted marriage, Rebecca ventures into Robert Sterling, the Duke of Pembroke’s bedroom – and into his power. Now her reputation hangs by a thread and only a hurried marriage can rescue her.

Is the Duke of Pembroke the heartless libertine the world believes? Or will Rebecca discover unexpected honor in a man notorious for his wild ways? Will their encounter spark a passion that lasts a lifetime?

2.The Rogue’s Bride
Lord Anthony Randall, next in line to be the Earl of Daventry, is a gambler, a rake, and a spendthrift. His grandfather is on his deathbed and insists that Anthony should marry by his twenty-fifth birthday which is coming up in sixty days, or else be disinherited.

Anthony needs a marriage of convenience. But no woman of good character is willing to live under the same roof as him. Apart from the beautiful Regina Hopkins.

Will the innocent Regina win the Earl's heart? Will this be a marriage of convenience? Or has the Earl gotten more than he asked for? Could he be falling in love?
3.Love Me Forever
The Earl of North wants to marry his beautiful and reluctant daughter with the Baron of Winchester. At twenty, Emberly charmingly refused to marry all the men he had carefully picked out for her.

Will Embelry marry the charming Baron? Will she understand what love means? Will they find happiness?

4.Gamble for Love
Alexander Randall, the Duke of Daventry, returns from Scotland to find that the love of his life has married another.
When the Duke wins her family's estate in a game of cards, Emma Buckland knows she must seek him out and beg its return.
The Duke has other ideas, however. He will return the estate to her family on one condition: Emma must become his bride and provide him an heir.
Torn between fear and desire, Emma allows herself to be wooed by the rakish Alexander and soon both parties are in turmoil.
Will this be a marriage of convenience? Or has the Duke gotten more than he gambled for? Could he be falling in love?
"Gamble for Love" is a historical romance novel off with a guaranteed happily ever after.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Roxie Brandon
• Release date: Jul 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463562956

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

A Bride for the Charming Duke

CHAPTER ONE

Caramel leaves tumbled to life by brisk autumnal notes that roused them from slumber, requesting a last wistful dance before a wintry embrace would claim them.

Autumn's hand was lying heavy on the hillsides. Bracken was yellowing, heather passing from bloom, and the clumps of wild-wood taking the soft russet and purple of decline. Faint odors of wood smoke seemed to flit over the moor, and the sharp lines of the hill fastnesses were drawn as with a graving-tool against the sky.

Spiked, black fences surrounded the graveyard almost like it was a prison. The smell of old stone filled the dry air, weeds covering the graves of the dead, loved ones long since stopped visiting. Gravel paths weave through the maze of graves, allowing passers by to pay their respects to the people lined up in the earths embrace.

Rebecca walked past the heavy gates. As long as she had her mother’s necklace embedded on her chest, a tiny cross, she would be left alone.

A knitted black scarf hung around her neck loosely and it flew as the billowing wind brushed through her auburn hair. The sun was sinking fast below the horizons, giving her hair more reddish hue.

Rebecca's eyes were the glimmering color of emerald, sparkling in the light of the morning sun like a fresh sheen of morning dew. And when she lifted her pale face to the sky, emerald shifted into the color of deep ocean shimmering in the sunlight.

As she looked down at the grave, with her father’s name scrawled across the stone, and mother’s grave not two feet away, Rebecca wished she could just kneel here, and mourn.

She knelt at the grave, and laid her hand upon the headstone. I love you, father, she whispered. Then she rose and walked across the graveyard.

After her father had joined his mother in death, Rebecca and her sister Emily had come to live with her uncle’s family, but from the beginning she had felt unwelcome. She knew her uncle and her aunt had only taken them in because they considered it their duty. Rebecca and Emily were, after all, family.

However, both her aunt and uncle never missed an opportunity to remind them of their status. Rebecca never declined a request, never argued and never questioned her uncle’s authority. And yet, to this day he had never looked at her with affection, nor had her aunt.

Rebecca was nineteen years old, but Emily was sixteen and she was an only child. Rebecca was like a mother to Emily and she tried to protect her.

***

Oh Lord, she was trapped. Standing in the center of the sun-dappled folly overlooking the rolling hills of her uncle’s estate, Rebecca suddenly realized exactly what was about to happen. Don’t say it. Please don’t say it.

Miss Harrington, will you consent to be my wife?

Across from her, Lord Barnet stood perfectly erect, his thick eyebrows raised in polite query.

Rebecca bit her lip, dismay settling like a brick in her stomach. Or was it dread? Why hadn’t the man listened to her when she had told him in every way possible that she was happy in her situation, and had no plans to change it?

Better yet, why had she been so utterly oblivious to his intentions when she agreed to the walk in the first place? Now she was stuck, with no other choice than to be blunt.

I am sorry, my lord, but I am afraid I must decline your kind offer.

Silence reigned for the space of ten seconds, broken only by the nearby oak leaves rattling in the light wind as Lord Barnet absorbed her response.

In those moments, the spacious, open-air folly seemed to shrink to the size of a cupboard, making it difficult for Rebecca to put enough space between her and her completely unwanted suitor.

I beg your pardon?

She tilted her head the slightest bit and tried to infuse compassion into her posture and expression. My apologies, Lord Barnet, but my answer is no. I will not marry you.

What a fool she’d been to let it come to this. Yes, she’d known her uncle strongly favored a match between them, but this was only the second day Barnet had been at Brighton Manor. The rest of the guests would arrive tomorrow, at which time the house party would officially begin.

Did he feel that he had to rush things in order to get a leg up on the competition?

But… He trailed off, his dark eyes troubled. Confused more than troubled, actually. There was no telling what Uncle Richard had led him to believe.

Why her uncle was so keen to have her marry all of a sudden was beyond her. Clearly he had not believed her earlier in the summer when she had told him she was content to serve as her Aunt Charlotte’s companion. And she had been happy, all the way up until about three minutes ago.

Now she had an affronted, would-be suitor gaping at her. Sighing, she offered an apologetic smile. Please know how flattered I am by your proposal. I wish you nothing but the very best in the future, my lord.

The situation could not have been any more awkward. Spending the rest of the week with him was going to be excruciating. Spending the rest of the week with Uncle Richard would be even worse. She swallowed; she couldn’t even think about that now.

As his face grew increasingly mottled, Lord Barnet tugged on the hem of his mustard-colored jacket.

If you’ll excuse me, Miss Harrington.

The words were stilted and brusque, understandably. As far as she was concerned, the sooner this interview was over, the better.

Yes, of course, she murmured, dipping into a shallow curtsey. He turned and stalked away, cutting a straight line through the grass toward the house.

Expelling a lungful of air, Rebecca sagged against one of the folly’s rounded stone columns. That was an experience she hoped never to repeat.

Before her father had died, she had seen all too well the life of a married woman. But now she was free, and she intended to stay that way.

CHAPTER TWO

A quarter of an hour later, Rebecca let herself into the empty library, carefully pulling the door closed behind her. The cool interior felt good against her flushed cheeks, and she went straight to the nearest chair and collapsed in it.

If she were very, very lucky, perhaps no one noticed her coming back to the house. She wasn’t ready to face her uncle just yet. She wanted a chance to think of what to say.

Suddenly the door opened, startling her into sitting up straight. Uncle Richard stalked into the room, his heavy grey brows lowered over narrowed eyes.

For God’s sake, Rebecca, have you lost your mind? What would possess you to turn down the suit of such an advantageous match?

Advantageous? For whom, exactly? Indignation flared to life, trumping her apprehension. Her own brows pinched as she lifted her chin.

I am sorry, Uncle, but I did make it quite clear I had no intentions of marrying Lord Barnet.

And I made it abundantly clear that Barnet is a valuable political ally with whom I wish to align myself.

I’m certain he is a fine politician. I am less certain, however, as to his suitability as a husband. The very thought made her stomach ache.

He’s a suitable husband because of his politics, he snapped, coming to stand directly in front of her. This isn’t some fairytale, Rebecca. Marriage is a vehicle for strengthening bonds between allies, as you well know.

How could she forget? In the three months since she had come out of half-mourning, he had spoken of little else. Rebecca drew a calming breath, trying to sound rational.

I can appreciate that. However, I am not prepared to sacrifice my entire life so that Lord Barnet feels obligated to vote more favorably.

His nostrils flared, though the rest of him remained unnervingly still. You have no idea of what you speak, and quite frankly, you are far too old for this sort of selfish childishness. Thank God my sister is not around to see the sort of ungrateful person you have become.

His words pierced her armor like a well-placed blade. He knew exactly how to flay her, leaving her breathless. I will not believe Mama would have wanted me to suffer. I am sorry I have failed your expectations, Uncle. It was never my intention to disappoint you or this family.

He shook his head. You’ve gone too far this time, Rebecca. Your streak of independence must be nipped in the bud. You have a duty to this family, as do I.

She bit her tongue and nodded. Linking his hands behind his back he circled her, his pace slow and deliberate.

As the head of this family, I am responsible for the wellbeing and future of each and every one of us. And it’s a good thing, since you have so clearly demonstrated you haven’t the sense God gave you.

Her head stilled, unable to bob in agreement to this particular statement. How dare he say such a thing to her? A dozen arguments sprang to mind, but she steadfastly clamped her mouth shut. She mustn’t fight with him.

Whether you like it or not, Rebecca, it is past time for you to apply yourself to finding a husband. We should have done so the moment you were out of half-mourning. We are fast approaching the time you will be viewed as unsuitable for marriage, rendering yourself useless to this family. You’ve ruined our chances with Barnet. He has already announced his intention to leave.

He made no effort to hide his resentment, pinning her with his furious gaze. Fortunately, there are three other suitable candidates for marriage who shall be attending the party. Therefore, I have a proposal for you.

Lifting her chin, she said, Oh?

I had thought to announce your betrothal at the welcome dinner tomorrow night, but obviously that won’t be the case. However, a betrothal announcement will be made by the end of this week. The choice is yours: the Duke of Langley or the Duke of Pembroke.

Anger coursed through her, turning her blood cold. He couldn’t demand such a thing—it was absurd! Surely you can’t be serious. Please, be reasonable, Uncle.

Her tone was remarkably composed, thank goodness, despite the fury that had her digging her fingernails into her palms.

You dare speak of being reasonable to me? After denying Barnet’s suit? Indignation stiffened his shoulders. I’ll have no more of your stubbornness. You will choose a husband who will strengthen this family’s future, or I will do it for you.

Her lungs couldn’t seem to remember how to function. Her breath came in short, inadequate bursts, starving her of the air she so desperately needed to clear her mind. And if I refuse?

He smiled for the first time since entering the room. Then I suppose your sister will marry instead. She’s always been so delightfully biddable.

Rebecca’s breath left her body in a whoosh. He wouldn’t. Emily was barely sixteen! Surely he wouldn’t force her into marriage with some dry, aged Duke who was two or even three times her age.

Surely nothing. The icy blue steel of his gaze plainly told her the truth of his warning. He was dead serious. Her first instinct was to lash out, to tell him exactly what he could do with his threats. But she couldn’t. To do so would only make things worse.

She needed time to think, and that meant she had to have him think she would bow to him and his dreadful demand. I see.

Her throat was tight, her words strained. She swallowed and tried again. If you’ll excuse me, it would seem I have much to prepare for in the coming days.

Smug satisfaction lifted the corners of Uncle Richard’s full lips. Excellent.

She couldn’t escape the room fast enough. Holding her expression neutral until she made it out of his sight, she dashed down the corridor, heading for the massive staircase that led to her bedchamber.

Tears of frustration burned at the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them spill over. Was she really so much of a burden that he would push her onto the Duke of Langley, a man almost the same age as her uncle? Other than the Duke's money and title, he was undesirable.

As for the Duke of Pembroke, he was an attractive man, but Rebecca heard he was immoral, and even though many women would have loved to be his wife, Rebecca found him to be distasteful.

She knew of his reputation. He was not the type of man that Rebecca had grown up dreaming that she would marry.

She would not fall to pieces at another of Uncle Richard’s demands. No. Rebecca dried her eyes and lifted her chin, staring out of the window. She would not allow this to happen. Now that she knew exactly what her uncle intended, she would have time to try and find a way out.

CHAPTER THREE

The next evening, Mary asked Rebecca how she wanted to wear her hair as Rebecca sat at the dressing table. Rebecca had no thoughts on her hairstyle, as she was not motivated to impress anyone.

Mary placed her aunt’s necklace around Rebecca's neck, and the large pendant hung just above Rebecca's breast, drawing attention to her bare skin. Rebecca wondered if her aunt had chosen the necklace for that purpose.

M'lady, I have the red gown with the golden bead trim laid out for you to wear this evening.

Thank you, Mary. Aunt will be pleased.

M’lady, are you well?

Quite well, Mary. Thank you for your concern. I am just tired, but I am sure my disposition will change.

Mary smiled at Rebecca, and for the first time, Rebecca divulged her feelings to her maid.

Mary, the truth is, I am frightened by the thought of marrying the Duke of Langley or the Duke of Pembroke. I only dream of being happy, and this arrangement has brought me nothing but sadness.

Rebecca swallowed her tears and walked out of the room.

***

Rebecca hugged the wall, keeping as much to the shadows as possible. She had to discover whether or not The Duke of Langley was there. Her stomach rolled with distaste as the man himself came into her line of view.

The Duke of Langley, of course, was known to be wealthy, and it was only because of his status that he was given so much leeway by society. However, Rebecca found him utterly detestable. Shivering, she imagined his pudgy hand taking hers, his large fingers sealing her to him.

Shaking her head, she diverted her gaze. She could not allow this to happen. To her horror, she saw her uncle shaking Duke of Langley’s hand, his eyes searching the crowd. Rebecca knew exactly who he was searching for, her stomach rolling with alarm and anxiety.

Her feet moved before she even thought about where she was going. Practically clinging to the wall, Rebecca walked slowly, ducking behind tall gentlemen so that she remained hidden from view.

As her heart threatened to jump out of her chest, she saw the Duke of Pembroke walk toward her, offering his hand. He led her through the throng of people to the dance floor.

Rebecca felt his hand on her waist, and even through the layers of fabric, she thought she could truly feel his touch. The hand that held hers, guiding her movements, sent a shiver down her back as his thumb slowly moved over her skin.

He was handsome, to boot, Rebecca thought. She felt her entire body begin to tremble and her hands began to sweat. There was something about the man that scared Rebecca to the core.

He had tousled dark brown hair, which was thick and lustrous. His eyes were a mesmerising deep ocean blue, flecks of silvery light performed ballets throughout.

Not the ordinary sky blue, or the color of the paint flaking off of the old shed in the back of the field, or even the little flowers that spring up by the side of the road. His eyes were blue like the sea, crystal clear blue- shimmering and crashing and churning.

Looking into his eyes you could hear the waves falling against the shore, see the foam flying into the air. His eyes were blue like the sky right before the sun disappears- dark rich indigo, with specks of wild colors here and there.

His face was strong and defined, his features molded from granite. He had dark eyebrows,