The Duchess Contract

By Samantha Hastings

Miss Selina Stubbs signs the contract of her life with her father—her perfumes in every major shop in London, in exchange for marrying the reluctant son of the Duke of Hampford.

Lord Theophilus, the courtesy Marquess of Cheswick, has no desire to wed the daughter of a London merchant. He wishes to go to Africa and study the animals there. But his father, the Duke of Hampford, desperately needs her dowry.

After the wedding, Selina gets to know Theophilus and learns of his care for wounded animals. Together they plan a daring rescue of a lion from the Tower of London. Selina decides to make a new bargain…this time for love.


PRAISE FOR SAMANTHA HASTINGS

The Last Word

A Junior Library Guild Selection

"Witty, spirited, and utterly swoon-worthy. ... Filled with fierce feminism, impeccable period detail, and a charming romance that's sure to stay with readers long after the last word."―Addie Thorley, author of An Affair of Poisons

"Great voice. Unique premise. … And who can resist a plucky heroine who is determined to help write an unfinished romance novel by her favorite author!" ―B.R. Myers, author of Rogue Princess

"Hastings' debut is a charming period piece with all the romance and scornful nods to high society any Austen fan will love. Lucinda moves beyond the cliché of being a young woman who chafes at the restrictions of a sexist world, as she's elevated by her true passions―numbers and accounting. The Last Word is the perfect read for anyone who wants to spend a few hours in Victorian England in the company of a girl who understands that the entire country is being led by a Queen." ―Booklist

"Refreshing ... Lucinda, a young Victorian woman with a modern sensibility well ahead of her time, has plenty of pluck and determination. Hastings' breezy prose and crafty plotting will leave readers racing to uncover her own last installment." ―BookPage

The Invention of Sophie Carter

A Junior Library Guild Selection

"I loved reading about the bond between these sisters. The romances were super cute." ―Tricia Levenseller, author of Daughter of the Pirate King and The Shadows Between Us

"A delightful read and just what I needed right now. Readers are sure to be as smitten with the Carter sisters as their suitors are by the end of this utterly charming novel. Highly recommended." ―Miss Print

"Hilarious, with many laugh-out-loud moments as the twins try to dupe everyone into thinking they're the same person. ... It has the exact right amount of balance." ―Allisa White Books

A Royal Christmas Quandary

"A delightful, romantic romp of a book—perfect for readers who like their holiday romance to come with a sprinkling of royal glamour." —Rosalyn Eves, author of Blood Rose Rebellion

"A delightful foray into the Victorian era, A Royal Christmas Quandary will charm readers from page one. With endearing characters, a sweet romance, and fascinating details about Queen Victoria and the royal family, this story is sure to become a new Christmas favorite." —Joanna Barker, author of Otherwise Engaged

"An exciting and romantic romp through Victorian England. ... A delicious blend of history, humor, and romance." —Esther Hatch, author of A Proper Scandal
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Samantha Hastings
• Release date: Sep 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215574379

Samantha Hastings

Samantha Hastings met her husband in a turkey sandwich line. They live in Salt Lake City, Utah, where she spends most of her time reading, having tea parties, and chasing her kids. She has degrees from Brigham Young University, University of North Texas, and University of Reading (UK). She’s the author of several YA Regency titles and also writes cozy murder mysteries under Samantha Larsen. Learn more at SamanthaHastings.com

Book preview

Dedication

To Jill Larsen

Chapter One

London, England 1784

Selina took a spoon and gently stirred her newest scent. Leaning over the glass beaker, she inhaled: linden, conifer, and vetiver. It was the sort of perfume that a man or a woman could wear; being neither too sweet, nor too masculine. This was the perfect scent to start her own line of perfume. She stuck in a cork for the lid and picked up her bottle of perfumer’s alcohol, ethanol. She still needed to dilute the rest of the linden oil so that it would have a balanced fragrance. Rushing around her wooden work table, Selina tripped on her skirts and fell. The glass bottle shattered on the floor and the sharp, sterile smell of denatured ethanol soaked through her apron into her bodice and skirt.

Standing up carefully so as to not get cut on the glass, Selina looked down at her soggy apron and splattered new dress. One of her hands was bleeding slightly. She peeled off the apron and realized that the maroon frock was ruined. Her father would be furious. He’d given her the dress only yesterday and insisted she wear it today to meet a new business acquaintance of his. Dabbing her hand with a cloth, she tried to stop the bleeding. She couldn’t ruin a second gown with bloodstains.

Her father had never let her participate in any trade matters before and she would hate to lose her first opportunity. She was determined to start her own factory and distribute her perfumes throughout England, Europe, and then the world (in that order).

Mr. Stubbs has requested your presence immediately, her stepmother said loudly, entering Selina’s workshop. Her father’s second wife was the daughter of a vicar and usually a pattern-card of perfection. But her stepmother was clearly flustered, her long, narrow face a shiny red, and several black curls had escaped her white cap. She was only a decade older than her stepdaughter, but she insisted on being called Stepmother or Mrs. Stubbs. 

Selina dropped the cloth she was holding. I must change my dress first.

Her stepmother grabbed Selina’s wrist and pulled her to the door. I’m sorry, Selina, but your father is in a rare taking and he wants you to come immediately.

La! I’m a right mess.

Mrs. Stubbs’ tutted her tongue and continued to drag her down the hall. That you are, young lady, but there’s naught that we can do about that now.

Her stepmother opened the door to her father’s office and pushed her inside.

Selina blinked.

Her father was not alone. Two other men stood on the other side of the room. One was older, a frail man with a large gray wig and a sickly yellow countenance inadequately concealed by his white powder. His butter-yellow suit was a work of art; each inch of it was embroidered in a rainbow of threads. And he wore more lace than a lady around his throat and cuffs. Bowing to her with a courtly sweep of the leg, he gave her a slight smile.

The man standing next to him could not have been more different. He was nearly a head taller and his whole person radiated strength and virility. His shoulders were broad and his hips were lean, leading to muscular thighs that his knee breeches showed to admiration. For a moment, she wondered if his stockings were stuffed with padding to make his legs look that way. But when they tensed, she was certain that it was only his flesh.

Selina’s gaze made its way back up to his head. The clothing he wore was a delicately embroidered pale blue which announced to the world his status as an aristocrat. He wore no lace, but only a simpleton would not recognize the expensive weave of his shirt and waistcoat. His blonde hair was not powdered, but pulled into a ponytail at the back of his head. Happily, he wore no wig, nor any hair pieces and adornments that were so popular with stylish gentlemen. Lastly, she looked at his face. He wore no cosmetics nor powders. His countenance might have been handsome if he smiled. It certainly was not when he frowned at her. His surprisingly dark eyelashes curved down in consternation over blue eyes and a nose that was slightly crooked. His lips were pale and slim, making a grim line. He gave her a curt bow.

That gentleman was obviously not pleased with her. Embarrassed, she looked down at her hands and saw that her left hand was covered in blood.

You’re bleeding, the older man said, handing her a handkerchief.

She pressed it to her wound and saw that the beautiful white linen was embroidered with a coat of arms. These gentlemen were not tradesmen. They were titled aristocrats and part of the beau monde. What were they doing in her father’s office? What business could they possibly have with him?

Her father leaned on his good leg and forced a smile. My daughter, may I introduce you to the Duke of Hampford and his son, the Marquess of Cheswick?

Trying not to anger her father further, Selina sunk into a deep curtsy. It is a great honor, my lords.

The elder Duke of Hampford gave her a warm smile. Why don’t you take a seat by me, my dear?

Selina would have preferred to stay on the other side of the room. The smell of the alcohol on her dress was already giving her a headache. Touching her neck, she nodded and crossed the room to share the sofa with a duke.

A real duke.

Arranging her hands in her wet lap, she realized that her hair had fallen from her coiffure. Brown curls fell in every direction on her bodice. Feeling blood rush to her face, Selina put pressure on the handkerchief in her hand. Her father had longed to improve his social status and be accepted by the aristocracy. He’d married her stepmother for that reason. Mrs. Stubbs was the granddaughter of an earl, but