Beguiling the Duke, page 1
Beguiling the Duke
Lords in Love
Book One
Darcy Burke
Contents
Beguiling the Duke
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Also by Darcy Burke
About the Author
Beguiling the Duke
Copyright © 2023 Darcy Burke
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9781637261057
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Book design: © Darcy Burke.
Book Cover Design © Dar Albert, Wicked Smart Designs.
Editing: Lindsey Faber.
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.
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For Elyssa, the bestest beta reader and a fabulous friend
Beguiling the Duke
On the way to meet his future wife, the Duke of Lawford’s coach loses a wheel. Repair is impossible because he’s landed in Marrywell on the first day of their annual May Day Matchmaking Festival and everyone is on holiday. Furthermore, there are no rooms to let, so Law must accept the hospitality of a country squire or, more accurately, from his beautiful, clever daughter who obviously runs the household.
After a disastrous foray at the matchmaking festival four years ago, Sadie Campion has mostly hidden away at home. But at twenty-four, this may be her last chance to marry and have a home and family of her own. When her unexpected houseguest offers to help her attract a husband, she can hardly refuse and, on the duke’s arm, becomes the belle of the festival.
As they grow closer and attraction simmers between them, Law wonders if she is the match he was destined to make…
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Chapter 1
May 1816
Marrywell, England
* * *
Sadie Campion marched across the damp ground after dropping a loaf of Mrs. Rowell’s fresh bread at Sadie’s eldest brother’s cottage. He hadn’t been at home—he was out in the sheep pasture with their father—and his wife had been chasing their three-year-old son around the parlor while clutching the one-year-old boy on her hip. That had prompted Sadie to take her youngest nephew and amuse him for a good half hour so his mother could have a respite. But now Sadie was behind in her regimen for the day.
Quickening her pace, she glanced up at the gray sky. “Don’t you rain again. Or at least do me the courtesy of waiting until after I clean the front door. I’d rather not have to add changing clothes to my list of things to do.”
Sadie strode to the front of the house where she’d placed the broom and ladder that she planned to use outside the door. When she reached the porch, she put her basket down and set the ladder in place. She plucked up the broom and climbed the ladder, frowning at the cobwebs that had been there for too long now. But what was she to do? There simply wasn’t enough time in the day for her to complete everything that needed to be done.
Though her father would balk and say he didn’t want to spend the money, Sadie needed to talk to him about hiring at least one more person to help. It didn’t have to be a housekeeper, though that would be nice, just someone who could take on a variety of tasks that never seemed to be completed because there weren’t enough people at Fieldstone to do everything.
Working quickly—both because she was behind, and she was now slightly irritated by her father’s obliviousness to how hard she worked—she didn’t look to see if there was anything living in the webs. So when the spider landed on her forehead, she yelped. She also let go of the ladder and lost her balance, falling backward.
Panic flashed through her. She didn’t have time to be hurt!
Instead of hitting the ground, she landed on…someone. The large figure didn’t quite catch her, but his strong arms came around her. “Careful,” a masculine voice murmured near her ear.
His deep tone and solid form against her back soothed her. She inhaled his sandalwood scent and felt a stirring of awareness as well as curiosity. This was obviously not one of her brothers or her father. Nor was it their groom or the land manager. Who, then, was it?
Sadie turned to see an astonishingly handsome gentleman she’d never clapped eyes on before. Tall and white with deep-set eyes the color of walnuts and lips that were surely too full for a man, he regarded her with concern. His features were strong and patrician, with a prominent brow and a square jaw, and he looked to be about thirty years of age. He wore a stylish hat, but she could just make out blond hair beneath it.
“Why on earth are you climbing a ladder without assistance?” he asked, sounding a trifle annoyed as his brows pitched down over his eyes. “What if I hadn’t been here to catch you?” His presumptuous questions dispelled the enchantment that had come over her.
Sadie took a step back, clutching the broom. The gentleman wasn’t alone. There were two other men standing just beyond him. One, who was a few years older than the rude Adonis, cradled his left arm and wore a pained expression. He possessed a snub nose and thick, dark brows. The other man was perhaps twenty years older than the man who’d caught Sadie. He had a long nose and a sharp chin. His cravat was perhaps the most intricately tied neckcloth Sadie had ever seen.
“Who are you, and why are you here?” Sadie asked pertly, even as her body still tingled from where her body had touched his.
“He is the Duke of Lawford, and you should mind your tone,” the older man answered, his dark gray brows pitched into an angry V.
The blond man shot a look toward the older man before addressing Sadie. “Our coach has lost a wheel. My coachman has injured his arm, and my valet knocked his head.”
Sadie gasped. “You lost a wheel? Goodness, you are all lucky you weren’t more seriously injured.”
“I’m fine,” the older man insisted as he continued to glower at Sadie. She looked back toward the “duke.” Was he really a duke? Perhaps they weren’t more badly hurt because the accident had never happened. Indeed, this entire scenario seemed highly unlikely, and it would be just like her brothers to play a joke like this. Sadie narrowed one eye at Adonis. “How do I know you’re a duke? And did you really suffer a mishap?”
“Of all the impertinence!” the older man snapped, his eyes flashing in outrage.
The supposed duke exhaled. “If it’s not too much trouble, Mrs…?”
“Miss Campion.”
The duke’s eyes widened slightly as if he found her unmarried state surprising. Perhaps he did. As a woman of twenty-four, she was practically on the shelf.
“Miss Campion, I am indeed the Duke of Lawford. If it’s not too much trouble, might we borrow a vehicle to continue to the nearest town so we may find a physician and someone to repair my coach?” the duke asked.
Oh dear, it sounded as if he had no idea where they were. Or when.
“Ah, why don’t you come inside?” Sadie said, summoning a smile as she was about to ruin their day even more.
“I don’t wish to trouble your employer,” the duke said smoothly.
Her…what? He likely thought she was a maid. Or the housekeeper—perhaps that was why “Miss” instead of “Mrs.” had surprised him. As housekeeper, she would be Mrs. Campion, whether she was married or not. Sadie glanced down at the mud on her hem from walking across the estate earlier and didn’t have to touch her head to know that a great many curls had escaped her chignon. It was more than believable that she was an employee at Fieldstone instead of the daughter of the owner.
She didn’t take the time to disabuse the duke of his assumption. “You really need to come inside…to sort things out. Please allow me to offer you some refreshment, and I’ll send for the doctor. Marrywell isn’t two miles down the road.” She gestured west with the broom.
“Marrywell? I am not familiar with it,” the duke said with authority. “Perhaps someone can drive us into town to see the doctor? Then I can hire a coach to continue driving us to our destination.”
The man was likely used to getting his way. She gave him a bland smile. “If you’ll just come inside, I’ll be happy to explain why none of that will be possible, unfortunately.”
The duke blinked, and his blond brows arched. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’ve arrived on the first day of the Marrywell May Day Matchmaking Festival. No one is available for hire to drive you anywhere, and I daresay there won’t be anyone to repair your coach. Not until the festival concludes. In a week. We could take all of you to town in our, ah, carriage or the much sturdier cart, however I think you will be more comfortable waiting here while the doctor is alerted to your needs.”
The older man—the valet, Sadie deduced—stepped forward. “That is unacceptable. This is the Duke of Lawford.”
Goodness, did the man think the duke was some sort of deity?
Sadie tried one last time. “Please come inside, at the very least so your coachman can rest.”
The duke’s gaze flicked toward the house, a sprawling, several-times-expanded farmhouse that lacked a uniform style. One might call it “charming” or “quaint.” She could only imagine what an esteemed peer thought of it.
“It sounds as if we’ll need to secure lodging,” the duke said with a slight frown.
Sadie gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible either. Every inn within a ten-mile radius will be booked to the rafters for the festival. Please, just come inside. We can discuss your options while your coachman rests.”
The duke turned his head to the man holding his arm. “Come, Holden, let’s get you some tea.”
“Thank you, Your Grace.” The coachman winced as he moved forward, and Sadie noticed he was also limping.
Sadie hastened to move the ladder. While she set the broom down first, however, the duke picked up the ladder and moved it out of the way of the door.
“Thank you,” she murmured, adding, “Your Grace.” She picked up her basket and opened the door, gesturing for all three men to go inside.
Walking into the entrance hall, she led them on through the staircase hall into the parlor. She’d never been embarrassed of her home, and she still wasn’t, but she had to think their modest domicile was not up to ducal standards. The furniture was well cared for, but certainly not new, and the room, as a whole, didn’t pretend to possess any sense of style.
Sadie held out her hand. “Please sit wherever you’d like. I will have our groom run into town to fetch Dr. Bigby.”
The coachman sat carefully in a chair and the valet on the settee while the duke remained standing. “Your groom?” Lawford asked. “Who are you exactly?”
Before she could respond, her father and eldest brother, Esmond, burst in.
“Damn me, there’s a wrecked coach on the road!” Esmond blinked his jewel-green eyes at the three visitors.
Sadie’s father, Winchell Campion, glanced toward the duke and his men, his brown gaze cautious and perhaps even judgmental. “Sadie, who are these gentlemen?”
“Father, Esmond, allow me to present His Grace, the Duke of Lawford. That is his coach on the road.”
The duke’s eyes narrowed slightly as he regarded Sadie with a sudden blatant curiosity. “Your father owns this estate?”
Sadie gestured to her father and then her brother. “Yes, this is Winchell Campion, owner of Fieldstone and squire. This is my eldest brother, Esmond.”
“Your wheel came clean off!” Esmond said excitedly, sweeping off his hat to reveal his dark brown curls. “I bet that scared the piss out of you!” He laughed jovially, and Sadie stared at him.
Their father jabbed an elbow into Esmond’s side. “That is no way to greet a duke. Or anyone else, for that matter.”
Esmond straightened and schooled his features into a more serious expression. It was an astonishing transformation and one that typically only their dear departed mother or Esmond’s wife could provoke. “Welcome, Duke,” he said.
“It’s ‘Your Grace,’” Sadie said softly. “Father, we need to fetch Dr. Bigby. The coachman’s arm is injured, and the valet hit his head.”
The duke pivoted toward her father. “I said we could call on the doctor in town since we have to find lodging. However, your daughter has indicated this will not be possible.”
“No, it will not,” her father said with a laugh. “There’s nary a room between here and Winchester.”
“Then we’ll hire a coach to drive us to our destination,” the duke said, as if Sadie hadn’t already explained that wouldn’t be possible. Did he not believe her?
“I told him that wouldn’t work either.” Sadie didn’t bother hiding her exasperation.
“Listen to Sadie,” her father said. “She knows what’s what, and you won’t find a more clever girl.”
“She mentioned you have a carriage. I would pay you handsomely if we could borrow it. I’ll have it returned as soon as possible.”
Sadie’s father laughed. “That carriage barely makes it to Marrywell and back. No, no, I’m afraid I couldn’t allow you to risk yourselves, especially not after the bad luck you’ve already experienced. Indeed, there’s no vehicle at Fieldstone that will suffice. Do not despair, however! You’ll stay here. We’ve plenty of room, especially since Philip wed a few months ago.” He referred to Sadie’s other older brother, who, like Esmond, lived in a cottage on the estate.
“We couldn’t impose,” the duke said tightly.
Her father walked to him and clapped him on the shoulder, oblivious to the duke’s eyes subtly rounding. “You must, and that’s all there is to it. Your coach is in dire need of repair, and you won’t find anyone to fix it until after the festival. Is your, er, wife with you?”
The duke’s aristocratic jaw clenched as he looked down his nose at Sadie’s shorter father. “I do not have a duchess. When, pray tell, will the festival conclude?”
Sadie had also told him that detail. Had he heard nothing she’d said? She pursed her lips at him in annoyance.
“In a week.” Sadie’s father looked positively delighted.
“That is unacceptable!” the valet snapped.
“It is unfortunate,” the duke murmured.
While Sadie’s father might be pleased to host the duke, Sadie found him arrogant. As well as attractive. No! That didn’t signify. “Can’t Jarvis repair the coach?” she asked. Jarvis was their retired groom and coachman. He lived in a small cottage on the estate.
“We can’t ask him to do that, not with his arthritic hands,” her father protested.
“Perhaps he could advise Esmond and Philip, and they could do the actual work,” Sadie suggested. “I’m sure Adam and Richard could help too.” Those were her younger unmarried brothers.
“I can direct them,” Holden said. “Can’t do much with my arm like this, but mayhap tomorrow, I can instruct them on how to repair the coach.” He shifted in the chair and promptly grimaced. Sadie felt certain he would hurt even more tomorrow and would need to rest.
“Yes,” the valet said quickly. “We must do whatever is necessary to see His Grace on his way at the earliest possible moment.”
“Yates, everyone will do their best, but our accident has occurred at an inopportune time,” the duke said to the older man, sounding beleaguered. Lawford then shifted his gaze to Sadie. “I would appreciate if you could enlist whomever you can to work with Holden to complete the repair. I’ll pay you for the work and whatever you need.” The duke looked to his coachman. “I can help you if necessary.”
Yates appeared horrified. “You cannot perform manual labor. They must have a coach we can borrow,” he insisted.
Lawford swung his gaze back to Sadie’s father, but it was Sadie who responded. “We do not have a vehicle sufficient for your needs. Our coach is old and…well, it’s inadequate for long trips.” Decrepit was the best description, but Sadie wasn’t going to say that.
The valet appeared thoroughly outraged. “But His Grace has important business that he must attend to.”
