Not the Duke’s Virgin: A Steamy Regency Romance, page 1
NOT THE DUKE’S VIRGIN
A STEAMY REGENCY ROMANCE
SCARLETT OSBORNE
CONTENTS
Before You Start Reading…
A Thank You Gift
About the Book
Before You Start Reading…
Prologue
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
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
Also by Scarlett Osborne
Preview: The Rakish Duke
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
About the Author
BEFORE YOU START READING…
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A THANK YOU GIFT
Thanks a lot for purchasing my book. It really means a lot to me, because this is the best way to show me your love.
As a Thank You gift I have written a full length novel for you called Seduced by the Brooding Duke. It’s only available to people who have downloaded one of my books and you can get your free copy by tapping this link here.
Once more, thanks a lot for your love and support.
With love and appreciation,
Scarlett Osborne
ABOUT THE BOOK
“Tasting your lips was the biggest mistake of my life…”
Blackmailed with a family secret, Victoria has no choice but to pretend she loves the Duke’s brother. Yet with just one look from the Duke, her defenses begin to crack...
Ruthless Duke Simon must unveil his brother’s scam, no matter the cost. Even if his accomplice is the most beguiling vixen he has ever seen.
To prove their deceit, Simon needs to seduce her. But just one taste of her lips is all it takes for everything to come crashing down around them…
BEFORE YOU START READING…
How did our protagonist, Victoria, find herself in the unenviable position we find her in?
If you want to know about The Day Victoria’s day changed keep reading!
Here is a Prequel Chapter which will help you understand and visualize the story inside my book better.
Many of my readers requested it and that's why I am giving it away for free! I believe you will LOVE IT!
It’s not mandatory to read it, but it will be really helpful if it's your first time with this book.
Read the Victoria’s Prequel Chapter here.
Just click on the image above! ⇧
PROLOGUE
“Father,” Victoria began tentatively, setting down her teacup. “Might I ask what news has you so distracted this morning?”
Lord Newton peered at his youngest daughter over his newspaper. “Nothing that would interest a young lady,” he said gruffly.
“Oh, come now, you mustn’t keep me in suspense!” she cajoled. “Tell me, what has happened?”
With a resigned sigh, her father folded his paper neatly beside his plate. “Very well, if you must know, there is increasing talk of unrest in the colonies. It’s those impudent Americans and their protests against our control.”
“How worrying,” Victoria murmured. “Though surely it is just idle chatter?”
The Earl harrumphed again. “Let us hope so. But I fear they grow more defiant, spurred on by rabble-rousers and agitators, wanting the whole country for themselves.” He lifted his teacup and took a long sip before continuing. “Mark my words, it will come to no good if they continue down this treacherous path.”
Victoria glanced up at her father again, who had returned to rustling his newspaper irritably. She wished Aurora were here. But her elder sister remained sequestered at their country estate.
“I do hope Aurora continues to regain her health,” Victoria ventured. “The house feels rather empty without her, does it not?”
The Earl peered at her over his spectacles with a frown. “Your sister’s welfare is being seen to. We must be patient.”
“Of course, Father,” Victoria murmured, dropping her gaze. Patience had never been her strong suit. She missed Aurora fiercely.
With a soft rustle of footsteps, a footman entered the breakfast room. He bore an engraved silver salver piled with the morning post. Approaching the Earl, he offered a small bow before holding out the platter.
“The post, My Lord.”
“Yes, yes, put it here.” The Earl impatiently flapped a hand at the table, not glancing up from his paper.
The footman slid the salver onto the pristine tablecloth. Then with another bow, he noiselessly exited the room.
The Earl set aside his newspaper and drew the salver toward him. He rifled through the assortment of letters and ornate invitations, flipping through them one by one.
“Banker… merchant… modiste… confounded bills, bills, bills…” he grumbled under his breath as he sorted the post into piles. He set a few personal letters at his elbow to read later when he had time.
Victoria occupied herself by spreading marmalade atop a delicate toast triangle, unconcerned with the post. Any letters addressed to her would not be with her father; they would be delivered by her lady’s maid. Indeed, she half expected Charlotte to arrive any moment with correspondence from Aurora, hungering for word from her beloved sister.
“Ah, what’s this now? Something for you, my dear.” The Earl plucked a cream-colored envelope off the array and extended it toward her.
She noticed the ornate letter H embossed on the front.
“Hayward, it would seem.” Her father quirked a bushy eyebrow.
Victoria set down her toast, suddenly losing her appetite. She took the proffered letter reluctantly. Any communication from that particular family was unlikely to be a matter of joy. Not after her interaction with Lord Oliver at the ball a fortnight ago. The memory of Oliver’s crude insinuations still made her stomach churn.
She slid a butter knife beneath the wax seal and unfolded the heavy vellum within. The invitation was addressed to her father, requesting the pleasure of their company at Hayward Manor for dinner in one week. At the bottom, Lord Oliver had penned a personal note welcoming them to meet his elder brother, the Duke of Hayward.
Victoria’s frown deepened. This seemed like another move in some nefarious game Lord Oliver was playing, though she did not yet grasp the rules or motives. Victoria knew only that she wished to avoid him entirely. But refusing such a direct invitation from his family would be unpardonably rude.
“The Duke of Hayward himself! What an honor.” Her father’s pleased exclamation interrupted her brooding. “We shall have to visit the modiste straight away, have her run up something new for you. I’ll not have you looking anything less than your best for this grand occasion.”
Victoria suppressed a sigh. “Yes, Father.” She tried to inject a note of cheer into her tone, though her stomach churned.
Whatever Lord Oliver was plotting, she could not avoid this visit without casting impertinent suspicion on his family’s gracious motives.
Setting aside the elaborate invitation with its veiled menace, Victoria reached for the next letter on her father’s salver. Plain white paper this time, but her name was inscribed across the front in bold black ink. An unfamiliar hand, she noted, though insidiously confident.
Slitting it open, she quickly scanned the contents.
My dear Lady Victoria,
I trust this letter finds you well. I am very much looking forward to furthering the acquaintance we began at Lady Wentworth’s ball. The upcoming dinner will provide an excellent opportunity to solidify our new friendship. Do be on your most charming behavior for my family. I would hate for this happy occasion to become less pleasant due to any unfortunate misunderstandings between us.
Yours, Oliver Reynolds.
Victoria read it twice, a furrow slowly etching itself between her eyebrows. Beneath the solicitous language lay a thinly veiled threat. She ought to have expected such after their last unsettling conversation when he had seemed to take unseemly delight in her discomfiture. This letter smacked of the same mocking malice.
“Is something the matter?”
Victoria started. Her father had paused, letter opener in hand, watching her from across the table.
Hastily, Victoria folded the unpleasant missive and reached for her cold tea. “No, not at all,” she murmured before taking a bracing sip. The porcelain cup rattled ever so slightly against the saucer. “It is only a brief welcome from Lord Oliver.” She strove to keep her tone light, as though the letter had merely expressed anticipation of their visit. “He looks forward to our visit.”
“Hmm.” The Earl did not seem entirely convinced, but he returned to opening his correspondence.
Victoria bit the inside of her cheek, vexed with herself for reacting so transparently.
Whatever Lord Oliver was scheming, she could not refuse the family invitation without casting impertinent suspicion on the Duke and Dowager Duchess. Which had likely been Lord Oliver’s very aim. She would simply have to endure the visit, and his company, with as much poise as she could muster. And try to determine what fresh trouble the younger Reynolds brother was concocting before she found herself mired too deep in it.
The rest of breakfast passed uneventfully. Once the dishes had been cleared away, Victoria prepared to leave her father to his business and seek out her lady’s maid. She wished to pen a quick letter to Aurora before their modiste appointment.
Movement caught her eye as she reached the door, and glancing back, she saw her father unfurl a scroll with an intricate seal. His estate business frequently involved such documents.
With a rustle of her skirts, Victoria departed, weighing whether or not to mention the imminent visit to Hayward Manor in her letter. She disliked worrying Aurora needlessly during her convalescence.
CHAPTER 1
Victoria sat rigidly in the carriage as it bumped and jostled its way down the long drive leading to Hayward Manor. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap to keep them from trembling. This was it. The moment she had been dreading for weeks.
“My, what a grand estate this is!” her father exclaimed as he peered out the window. “The Duke has done well for himself.”
Victoria glanced up at him, surprised by this sudden exclamation. Her father sat, with his newspaper forgotten on the bench, gazing out at the manicured lawns and gardens of the Duke’s sprawling country manor.
Madeline, her cousin, nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, yes, I’ve heard Hayward Manor is one of the finest in the county. We’re so fortunate to be invited!”
Victoria said nothing. She knew the real reason they were here. The false courtship she had been blackmailed into by the horrid Oliver. Just thinking about that manipulative snake made her blood boil. She glanced down at the ostentatious ruby ring on her finger, a prop for their charade. How she wished she could hurl it out the window.
The carriage rolled to a stop. A footman opened the door, and her father nearly leapt out in his excitement. Madeline followed, straightening her gown. Victoria took a deep breath. It was time to face the music.
Oliver awaited them at the entrance, wearing a charming grin that made Victoria’s skin crawl. “Welcome, welcome!” he cried jovially, clasping her father’s hand.
As predicted, the Earl became putty in his hands.
“Magnificent to see you again, Lord Oliver!” her father gushed. “I must say, your brother keeps an extraordinary estate.”
Oliver smiled. “Why, thank you. I shall give him your compliments.” His eyes flicked to Victoria. “Come, my darling. Let us go inside.”
Victoria forced herself to take his arm. She felt sick at his touch. Madeline shot her a sympathetic look as they entered the grand foyer.
“Brother!” Oliver called out. “Our guests have arrived.”
A tall figure emerged from a side parlor. Victoria’s breath caught in her throat. So, this was Simon Reynolds, the Duke of Hayward, Oliver’s older brother.
He was perhaps the most imposing man she had ever seen. Broad-shouldered and chiseled, with dark hair and piercing dark brown eyes. Everything about his demeanor oozed power and arrogance. When his dark stare fixed on her, she had to suppress a shudder.
“Welcome to Hayward Manor,” the Duke said coolly.
Her father practically tripped over himself greeting the Duke. Madeline dropped into a deep curtsey.
Victoria managed the briefest of curtsies, struggling to find her voice. “A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace,” she finally managed.
The Duke glanced her over with an inscrutable expression. “Hm. Yes.”
Victoria bristled at his brusque dismissal. The allure of status and wealth had gone straight to the man’s head. She decided then and there that she did not like the Duke of Hayward one bit.
Oliver guided them into an elegant sitting room. Her father immediately launched into enthusiastic praise of the manor. Madeline awkwardly tried to make conversation with the aloof Duke.
Victoria found herself watching Simon closely. What sort of man was he really, beneath the noble polish? Did he know of his brother’s scheming nature? She longed to wipe that arrogant look off his face.
“Come, Victoria, sit by me,” Oliver said, patting the space beside him.
Victoria forced a smile and sat, allowing him to take her hand. She noticed the Duke’s eyes flick down to the gesture, his expression unreadable.
“My darling has been eager for this chance to meet our family properly,” Oliver told his brother. “Haven’t you, my sweet?”
“Oh, yes,” Victoria said through gritted teeth. “I have been counting down the days.”
The Duke let out a humorless chuckle. “Is that so? Funny, you seem rather less than eager to me.”
Victoria’s eyes widened in surprise. There was more perception behind that aloof facade than she had guessed. Before she could respond, Oliver jumped in.
“Do not mind my brother,” he said lightly. “I’m afraid he knows little of affairs of the heart.”
Victoria noticed a muscle in the Duke’s jaw tighten ever so slightly. “On the contrary, dear brother, I understand a great deal more than you know.” His intense gaze seemed to pierce right through her.
Her pulse quickened despite herself.
Just then, the Dowager Duchess entered the room, saving Victoria from having to respond. The aging noblewoman looked bemused at their presence. Her silvery hair was elegantly coiffed, and she wore a lavender day dress that likely cost more than most people made in a year. Still, there was a weariness in her eyes that spoke of someone who had seen too much.
“Mother, allow me to present our esteemed guests,” Simon said. “The Earl of Newton, his daughter Lady Victoria, and his niece Miss Russell.”
The Dowager Duchess looked Victoria up and down critically, then let out a derisive sniff. “Charmed, I’m sure.”
Victoria bristled. Just like her son, this woman judged her unworthy after nothing more than a glance. What she wouldn’t give to tell the arrogant Dowager Duchess exactly what she thought of her. But she held her tongue.
Oliver laughed lightly. “You’ll have to forgive my mother. I’m afraid she is rather protective of me, her darling boy.” He shot his mother a roguish wink.
