The Perfect Duke (The Valiant Love Regency Romance #3) (A Historical Romance Book): Valiant Love, #3

By Deborah Wilson

Lady Everly Wycliff has been called many things.

Wild.

Rich.

Beautiful.

Spinster.

Just to name a few.

Childhood antics aside, never in her life…

Has she ever been declared a thief!

And while imprisoned, the last man she ever thought would care comes to her rescue.

The Duke of Ayers.

Asher Curbain, the Duke of Ayers, has been avoiding Everly for years.

While the woman has always provoked a dark longing that had scorched his very soul, he knows one reason and the only reason he is avoiding her.

She'll never marry.

Determined to never live under a man's rule, she'd never chose to become a wife, not even a duchess.

Yet in order to set her free, Asher will have to take her as his own captive while he tries to solve the mystery surrounding her charges.

It's only a matter of time before harbored feelings and proximity becoming too tempting to deny.

Will Asher manage to set her free only to lose her forever?

Or will Everly finally become truly set free by love?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Deborah Wilson
• Release date: Feb 7, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393152583

Deborah Wilson

As a young girl, Deborah has been an avid fan of Regency authors such as Jane Austen. Deborah has always been in love with the Regency era. Despite the fact that this era is filled with great social, political, and economic upheavals and happenings, yet there is still plenty of room for episodes of romance happenings. In this era, love was pure. In this era, one can still find men and women who would have the courage to express their love while living amongst strict social customs for courtships. In such times, romantic gestures could be small yet they have a beautiful, meaningful impact. It is Deborah’s desire that through her writings, one will find the courage to love, to profess love and to pursue love. And the reason is simple. Everyone deserves to love and be loved. Pure and simple. Deborah is the author of ❦ VALIANT LOVE ❦ series. While the wealthy and titled men and women of the early nineteenth century were known for their extravagance in dress and decor and the rules that governed ‘polite society’, she wanted this series to focus on something different. Honor. What makes a man or woman honorable and where does love fit into all of this? “Let good be thy fortune and honor thy wealth.” Read and find out now for yourself Sign up now to Deborah’s VIP email list. Why? You will never miss a new release. You will be notified by Deborah personally as soon as her next book is out. →⟫⟫ http://eepurl.com/dHxqRD And please don’t forget to connect with Deborah on facebook. She loves hearing from her readers and sharing her thoughts and writing progress. →⟫⟫ https://www.facebook.com/deborahwilsonbooks

Book preview

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April 1817

North England

Lady Everly Wycliff tried very hard not to roll her eyes at all the high-pitched bickering taking place around her. She was surrounded by a thong of young ladies who’d have never been her first choice for company, but they were friends of her cousin Diana’s, so she was forced to remain.

Oh, but, Diana, Miss Abigail Christensen whined. She was a very thin, very pretty blonde with big blue eyes.

You must add snowdrops to your bouquet. It would make the world of difference.

Yes, Miss Mary Parris agreed. You must. Only a spring bride may use them, as they die when summer comes.

Diana leaned back and set her shoulders. But one simply does not mix primrose with snowdrops. There will be enough white in my bouquet as is. Her green eyes scanned the room for opinions and a slight smirk touched her lips when she looked at Everly, as though her cousin knew just how tedious she thought the conversation to be.

Diana, by everyone’s measure, looked like Everly. She had the same shade of vivid red hair, as though the sun stored its inner heat in their every curl. A true redhead.

Their soft features were close as well. The only difference rested in their eyes. Everly’s were gold, and Diana’s a dark green and far less jaded than her cousin’s.

The two, when together, were often mistaken for sisters.

Diana’s smirk became a full-on grin as the inconsequential struggle over the appropriate flowers went on.

Every girl wished to make her opinion know.

Did a spring bride truly need snowdrops in her bouquet? Could one marry at all without the precious white petals of the primrose?

Thankfully, the drawing room in Peterson House was a glowing yellow that would have managed to lift even the lowest of spirits. The country air of early spring breezed into the room along with the scent of the lavender her Aunt Felicity had planted underneath the windows.

Everly had spent many summers in this house. She visited often as a child until her mother grew too ill to make the long journey. Diana’s mother had been sister to Everly’s father and a close friend to her mother.

Peterson House sat on a hill and, through the window, Everly had the perfect view of Ayers’ Castle. The gray stone fortress was a testament to the great men who’d made England what it was, many of those men having been blood to the family who now held it as their seat.

The Curbains.

She’d known Curbain family while growing up. Out of the four, she’d become closer to the younger two Curbains; Lord Lore and Lady Valiant. Lord Hero had always had his own set of friends while Lord Asher, who was now the Duke of Ayers, had always been the perfect lord, doing everything just as he should without deviating from the plans that had been set before one of his station.

Which meant he was humorless and dull.

Everly. Diana’s call made her turn away from the window. What say you? Shall I add the snowdrops or not?

The entire room held their breath for her answer.

Everly was quite aware of the power she wielded in nearly every room she set foot in. She was the daughter of the former Earl of Ellervear, who’d become Prime Minister around the time of Everly’s presentation at sixteen.

She’d hosted parties on her father’s behalf, since her mother had been far too ill to do so, events that had soon become the crown of the Season.

Her esteem had gained the notice of the most powerful women in London; the patronesses of Almack’s.

She’d been the first to be offered a seat in the prestigious group when it became available around her twenty-third birthday.

And now, at thirty and one, she ruled without the aid of a husband. She was Lady Wycliff in her own right. Loved. Revered. And hated by every mama with a daughter who thought to become anything like her—a self-proclaimed spinster who refused to remain on the edge of any ballroom.

And as it would happen, Everly had been invited to throw a party at the town’s hall before the crowds moved to London.

She was to host a masquerade in town the night of the wedding in Diana and Lady Renner’s honor. For if there was anything Everly did know best, it was how to have a splendid time.

The best thing to do, Everly said, would be to see what the bouquet looks like with and without it. Then you make a decision.

Everyone gasped as though her words had been sage.

Oh, my lady. Miss Christensen clapped a hand over her chest. That is an excellent idea. The very best one I’ve heard all day. Don’t you agree? she asked one of the other girls whose name Everly hadn’t bothered to learn.

These women were gentry mostly. Some were distant relatives of peers. They were wealthy daughters from the local village and every one of them hoped to receive Everly’s recognition for one reason or another.

They were truly lovely girls. Everly had no reason not to like them.

Perhaps, she’d become too jaded. Surfeited by gatherings such as these.

‘Let’s go to the florist," Diana decided.

The women cheered. They enjoyed outings.

As did Everly.

She stood. I’ll drive my curricle.

Oh, but there is no need, Miss Parris said. We’ve enough footmen to take us.

Everly lifted a brow. Unless we wish to take every footman in the house, some of us must drive.

It is better they drive then us, said Miss Christensen. Truly, holding the reins can become quite tedious after a while. It is best left to the men. They are stronger, after all.

And there is was. The reason Everly could not abide this group. It was not their age or their silly bickering. It was their readiness to allow others to control their lives.

While Everly worked tirelessly to give women the liberties they lacked, this group abandoned the few they had.

Diana stood. I’ll ride with you, cousin. Then she turned to the others. The rest of you may ride with footmen.

The merry party ran from the room, each going to get their bonnet.

Diana walked over to Everly and laughed. You should see your face. You look every bit a headmistress, ready to discipline the naughty.

Diana, tell me these girls aren’t truly your friends. Everly could simply not bear the thought.

Diana shook her head. Everly! Of course, they are, but do not worry. You have taught me everything I know, and Lord Renner knows better than to try and control me. Otherwise, I’ll put Goliath on him.

Goliath was Diana’s great dane. The tan beast was larger than most men but quite loving to those who remained in his lady’s good graces.

I am to marry a man who respects my wishes. Diana’s eyes smiled though her face was set seriously.

Everly stared at her and then let out a long breath. Very well. She did love it when her cousin was happy.

Diana put an arm through Everly’s and started for the door, grinning the entire way.

Oh, Everly, you must relax. I am to be wed in a fortnight, Diana said once they were on their way. Now tell me, do you like Lord Renner?

Everly smiled at Diana. He is well settled and comes from a good family, but even more... I like the way he looks at you. It is clear you are both in love. I am very happy for you.

Diana tilted her head. You’re quite romantic, Everly. It is a part of you that few people are aware of.

And Everly worked tirelessly to keep it that way. Well, I think you will suit better with Lord Renner than you would have Lord Stoutner. Stoutner was a gentleman three times Diana’s age who her brother had favored. Stoutner was wealthy. His first wife had died without giving him an heir and now he was desperate.

He’d also known Everly’s father, since Everly’s family had always been close to his. She herself had never cared for his presence.

Diana had wept about the prospect of marrying Stoutner, especially since she was already in love with Lord Renner.

And so, with Everly’s encouragement, Diana had begged her brother Apollo for her heart’s desire for months.

And she’d won.

Everly had never been so proud of her cousin or so glad and so very upset at Apollo.

Apollo, the current Earl of Ellervear, had spent far too much time with Everly’s father, and thus had picked up many of her father’s traits. Thankfully, Diana’s mother was quite vocal and blessedly, Apollo respected her.

Everly and Diana’s ages were far apart. Nearly a decade separated them, and yet Everly counted Diana as a dear and true friend. Diana had often come to her with her problems, and though Everly had barely shared any details of her own life, she’d tried her best to be as open as possible with the young woman.

Diana sighed contentedly. I cannot wait to be Lady Renner. I promise you, I will be the happiest woman in the world.

It becomes you, Everly told her honestly. Though she would never marry herself, Everly enjoyed love. She enjoyed seeing it on the faces of others, if only to know that it existed.

Along with being a patroness of Almack’s, Everly also opened her home three days each week during the Season to women who sought to advance their education, though no one knew.

The women simply told their families that they’d come to call.

While other schools taught women simple lessons in singing, language, and needlepoint, Everly encouraged the women to discuss such topics as philosophy, mathematics, and even theology, subjects that men didn’t approve of women learning.

They liked their women childlike, but Everly knew what they truly meant. Husbands and fathers wanted complete control.

There were about ten women who came. Many shared details of their personal lives with Everly and, for the most part, she had to say that many of them were happy. Some of the women even blushed when speaking about their husbands. It was at those moments when Everly knew there to be some good men in the world.

Lord Renner seems to truly love you, Diana, Everly said. I shall hope that never changes.

I can’t imagine why you’ve never married, Diana suddenly said. Surely, there was one man in your past who you thought would suit.

Everly turned back to the road.

You possess quite an allure, Diana went on. Even at your age, you’re one of the most beautiful women I know.

Everly grinned. Beauty isn’t everything.

But you have other wonderful traits, Diana said. You’re kind, smart, and look at you now. I didn’t have to beg you long for aid with my wedding, and day after day you’ve sat in that room with those women and have yet to throttle one of them.

Everly laughed. You didn’t have to beg, dear. You know I’d do anything for you.

Diana leaned her head on Everly’s shoulder. I know.

As they turned around a bend, Everly’s gaze moved beyond the trees to Ayers’ Castle. She was drawn to its majesty.

We invited the Curbains to the masquerade. Do you think they’ll come? You know them better than me, Diana said.

Lady Valiant’s husband died, so she is in mourning, Everly said, thinking about her friend. She would visit if the duke allowed it.

Oh, yes, Diana said. I recall news of his death from London brought their party to a swift end last year.

Lord Lore and Lady Brinley may come, Everly said with a grin as she thought about her friend Brinley. But she’s with child, so who knows how she’ll feel that day.

What about the general? Diana asked.

He is in London, Everly said. General Hero Curbain had become Secretary of Foreign affairs last year. But his wife is here and may attend.

And what of the duke? Diana finally asked.

Everly chuckled. He’ll not attend. That, I’m sure of. He’d never come to any of her masked balls in London. In fact, he never came to any of her events or spoke to her at any of the ones his family invited her to. A woman could only be slighted so many times before she stopped inviting him all together.

She knew why he didn’t like her. He was a man who liked to control everything, and Everly did not fit into his narrow view of the world.

Such a shame, Diana said. Abigail has been vying for his attention for years.

Abigail? Everly asked in dismay. Miss Christensen? But she is but a girl. Ayers is old enough to be her father. For years, Everly had thought him old enough to be hers. He’d surely given the impression of a man far older than he truly was, but the eight years that separated them didn’t seem so far anymore. She was thirty-one; he was thirty-nine.

He is not so old, Diana protested. Abigail likes him.

Well, I suppose there is the attraction of becoming a duchess, Everly sighed.

And the attraction of the man himself, Diana added. Abigail finds him quite regal. Handsome even.

Truly? Everly allowed Asher’s classic expression of disdain to enter her mind. He’s a haughty bore, she finally said.

Perhaps, Diana agreed.

And high in the instep.

And you are not? Diana countered with a grin.

Everly returned the smile. He’s a very somber man. He’d expect his wife to do whatever he said, without question. He’d likely cringe if he heard about Everly’s school of higher learning for women.

Abigail understands. Do you know why he’s not married? Diana asked. You’d know better than anyone.

Why ever would you believe that?

Well, you’re close to the family, Diana said.

I’m close to Lore and Valiant. I don’t speak to the duke. Mainly because he rarely spoke to her.

But could you inquire for her? Speak to him just this once? Diana asked. I only wish for Abigail’s happiness.

Everly drew up an image of Asher and Abigail together and thought they’d suit. Asher could control her, and Abigail would likely bask in her confinement. Very well. I shall try and aid her in this pursuit if this is what she truly wants.

Excellent. You truly are the best cousin. Diana rested her head once again on Everly’s shoulder, and they continued on in that fashion for the remainder of the ride.

∫  ∫  ∫

0 2

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Asher Curbain, the Duke of Ayers, looked up from his ledgers when the sound of shouting echoed through the castle’s corridor.

He stood.

His sister Lady Valiant, who’d been sitting across from him, rose as well.

Their nephew John dangled in her arms.

Oh, dear, Valiant said. Whatever could be wrong? Here, hold him for me, would you?

With a barely a look, Valiant handed the four-month-old boy over and dashed from the room in a flutter of mauve silk.

Asher looked down at John. The baby’s

blue eyes fell on the golden top button on his jacket right before his plump fingers reached for it.

Asher turned him around, placing the child’s back to his chest and then set out toward the noise.

He found his sister, and his sisters-in-law, Lady Brinley and Lady Beatrix, in the drawing room.

I don’t understand. It’s my own money, Brinley was saying, her face red with anguish.

Valiant rubbed the woman’s back. Let us settle down. You don’t want to upset the baby.

Asher agreed. The last thing he wanted was for his brother Lore to lose his first child.

They’d all gathered here a week ago to greet Lore and Brinley on their return from the Continent. They’d been gone for over seven months, the longest Asher had ever gone without seeing his youngest brother. Only to himself did he admit that he’d worried.

What’s this about money? Asher asked.

Beatrix, John’s mother, came and took John from his arms. It’s the blacksmith, Mr. Goodman. He won’t allow Brinley to make a purchase without Lore.

Then take Lore with you, Asher said to Beatrix. Lore was currently working at his own property that was not far from the castle. Asher thought the matter quite settled after that.

"But it’s a gift for Lore, Brinley said, settling back into her chair. I can’t take Lore and then surprise him later."

Then I’ll go with you, Asher decided readily. He’d been going over Valiant’s ledgers with her. Her husband had died in a tragic fire eight months ago and though the two may have had their differences. he’d willed quite a sum on her in the event of his death. Thankfully, since his sister planned to remain at Ayers’ Castle during the Season, there was truly no rush to get it done.

Brinley took a calming breath and met his gaze head on with her own dark one. That is very kind of you, Your Grace, but do you plan to come with me every time I’d like something to be made?

Asher didn’t know Brinley well. He’d been aware of his brother’s true interest in her just weeks before Asher received the letter that announced their hasty wedding and trip to the Continent.

Lady Brinley Soulden was the eldest daughter of the Earl of Tellock.

Her sister, Arabella, had married Beatrix’s brother, the Earl of Dalewell, and thus Tellock’s family had been invited to last year’s country party.

From the beginning, it had appeared that Brinley and Lore had formed some sort of attachment to one another, though Asher would have never guessed it to be love until some weeks later.

He’d had one conversation with Lore about Brinley. He’d even encouraged his brother to go after her if it would make him happy. But his encouragement had only come after doing his own research into the woman.

Brinley had helped Lore become focused in a way that Asher had failed to. Now, Lore was hoping to start his own horse-breeding empire, a field his brother knew everything about just from his sheer love of horses.

Asher was happy for them.

He wished to keep them happy. I’ll speak to the blacksmith, if it will please you. He’d do anything to ensure that Lore and Brinley’s child arrived whole and well.

Brinley smiled. Thank you, Your Grace.

Valiant remained home, since she was still in mourning, but Beatrix joined them for the journey into town.

The town of Ayers was small compared to London or even Bath, but much larger than most villages. A main road, paved with brick, led out toward others. With an ever-growing number of wealthy families, the streets remained busy during the day, which was reason enough for Asher to avoid coming often.

Everyone stared at his carriage as they passed.

What will you say to the blacksmith? Brinley asked brightly.

Or do you just plan to give him one of your most withering stares? Beatrix added with a grin.

Every time he was in Lady Beatrix’s company, he learned more about her. The more he learned, the more he was glad that she and his brother Lord Hero had found one another.

And for very selfish reasons of his own.

Their son John secured the family line. When Asher died, Hero would become duke and then John, since Asher had no ambitions to remarry.

John had been named after their eldest brother, who’d died when he’d been a boy. Only Asher had known him, but he was glad that Hero had devised a way for him to be remembered by all.

John’s passing had damaged a part of Asher’s soul.

The passing of his first wife had sealed the decision to not entangle himself with anyone else again.

When the carriage stopped, a footman assisted the women out and then Asher followed.

The air smelled of iron. The blacksmith’s shop was made of the same stone as the road. A reddish brick with large open windows that allowed the heat from the ovens to escape. Tools of his trade lined the far side of the room, the metal stark against the walls. Firewood sat in a tall hill in the corner.

Mr. Goodman, the blacksmith, recognized Asher on sight and smiled, but then he saw Brinley and his expression hardened. It seemed a true disagreement had taken place between these two.

Brinley, who Asher had never known to lower her chin, lifted it higher, becoming quite haughty. I suppose you’ll allow me to get what I want now.

I see no husband present, Mr. Goodman said.

I’m not leaving until I get what I came for, Brinley said.

Stay as long as you wish, but my answer remains the same, Goodman replied, right before he turned to the duke. He bowed. Your Grace. How may I be of service to you?

Brinley was turning red.

Beatrix grabbed her arm and began to whisper what Asher thought were soothing words.

Asher only hoped this event did not spread through town. Mr. Goodman was well known and respected by nearly everyone around.

For Brinley’s sake, he thought it best to keep it civil.

Mr. Goodman, Asher began. Give this lady whatever it is she asked for.

Mr. Goodman blinked and then bowed again. As you wish, Your Grace.

Asher turned to Brinley. Purchase what you want.

Brinley’s shoulders fell. Is that all?

Asher nodded once. What else would you have me do?

Make him apologize, Beatrix said. He truly upset her.

Mr. Goodman began to shift from one foot to the other but kept his shoulders firm.

The man was only doing his job, Asher said.

And is his job to make ladies feel small? a feminine voice asked from the door.

Asher spun around and nearly groaned at the sight of Lady Everly Wycliff. She was the very last woman Asher wished to see in a situation such as this. Or at all, really.

Everly! Brinley beamed. She and Beatrix rushed to the woman as though it weren’t just a few weeks ago that they’d seen one another.

Oh, Everly, Brinley said. I should have brought you with me when I came earlier.

Is there a problem? Everly asked.

No problem, Asher said. Lady Brinley is just about to make her purchase and then we are leaving.

Everly’s golden gaze lifted to his. "Likely not for you, Your Grace. After all, you are not only a duke but a man." She said the last word as though it were a plague, a disease that had taken hold of him.

That always bothered Asher, her negative view of men in power. It was not Asher who’d made the laws of their land or the laws of nature even.

He often wondered if she understood the value of the stronger sex and how men, even the men of his own bloodline, had lived and died to give her everything she possessed.

He often wanted to teach the woman a lesson on the values of men, but then, where to start?

She started toward him.

She wore green today, a striking color that made her red curls seem like living flames. The jade muslin bodice cupped her well-endowed figure to the point of near offering.

He easily imagined taking her breasts within his palms.

He cut his gaze away to quiet