My Divinely Decadent Duke Read online

  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Praise for Sandra Masters

  My Divinely Decadent Duke

  Copyright

  Dedications

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Epilogue

  A word about the author…

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  “What about love and passion?”

  she wondered until she realized she spoke the words aloud. Enough. Everything but the one thing I want. And you think you are not cruel, Gordon?

  “They shall take care of themselves with time. I will not force myself on you…unless you wish it of me. I would like the opportunity to demonstrate to you I am a good man you may wish to know better, Cassandra. Goodness knows you’ve seen many sides of me.”

  Somehow the arrangement didn’t sound as insane as before. It could work. At least she wouldn’t have to marry Ashcombe, a perfect stranger. Her choices were an older gentleman, or the younger scandalous rake she loved.

  Her mind spun.

  Her world twirled.

  She swayed.

  He held her steady in his arms.

  Her heart broke.

  And then he did a terrible thing.

  He kissed her with tender gentleness and coaxed open her lips. Their mouths melded together. Her body molded to his and it was perfect. She heard heart beats, pulse beats, thunderous beats. To be so close to him, so near, so in need—it was so unfair. She rested her head on his broad chest and made her decision.

  “You are an innocent and a temptation I cannot afford, but I want you,” he murmured.

  Was it better to be miserable with him than without him?

  When God wants to punish you, he grants your dreams.

  Praise for Sandra Masters

  “I so enjoyed ONCE UPON A DUKE. The author’s clever, witty repartee pulled me into the story and made me root for these two dynamic characters. A delightful debut novel!”

  ~Debra Salonen, author of Montana Cowboy.

  ~*~

  “[Sandra,] your characters are worthy and the plot is creative and interesting. You have the story teller’s gift of hinting at disaster ahead which made me keep turning the pages.”

  ~Sarah Richmond, author of Mexican Sage

  My Divinely Decadent Duke

  by

  Sandra Masters

  The Duke Series

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  My Divinely Decadent Duke

  COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Sandra Masters

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Debbie Taylor

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First Tea Rose Edition, 2016

  Print ISBN 978-1-5092-0609-4

  Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-0610-0

  The Duke Series

  Published in the United States of America

  Dedications

  To My Plotster Husband, Ron,

  for his patience.

  ~*~

  To My insightful editor, Cindy Davis,

  for her constant encouragement.

  ~*~

  To My WOW critique group,

  you know who you are.

  ~*~

  To all the people behind the scenes

  who help make this book special.

  ~*~

  To My RWA Chapter Yosemite Romance Writers

  for your generosity of spirit.

  ~*~

  To My fantastic readers

  who make my writing a pleasure.

  Nothing I expected—Everything I dreamed.

  Thank you.

  Acknowledgments

  Poem: In Her Wildest Dreams Permission Granted by Julie Elstner Copyright January 2009

  Poem: Sun Died Every Night by Lokesh Fouznar (Pleiades 513)

  Chapter One

  London, 1822

  The Schackleford Ball, Private Parlour

  Lady Cassandra Montgomery needed a glass of brandy. Stunned into emotional silence, words were inconsequential. Her mind revolved forward, backward, and then to the present, the ring on her finger was no longer a symbol of the future. The bastard! He never loved her.

  Harold Viscount Fox, her fiancé, walked toward Cassandra. She stepped back in disbelief at his words that terminated their engagement.

  He continued with obvious difficulty. “I’ve received word from my father. He no longer wishes to disinherit me, but requests my presence at home so I may prepare for my future earldom. He is ill and has forgiven me.” He reached for her gloved hand.

  She pulled away. Her face contorted, etched in disbelief. “So why does that mean you can’t marry me?”

  “My father has found a lady of high status for me to marry and produce an heir.”

  Cassandra’s future disappeared before her. Gone was the man who’d offered to become guardian for her ward, Alicia. Gone was the security she sought. Gone was the hope of family—and love. She fought the sensation to lose consciousness. Her breaths were sharp and quick. Speech might help the queasiness.

  Hot and flushed, she struggled and went from shock, to anger, then revulsion at the pitiful man in front of her. She bit her lips and tried not to tremble. He’d smashed every single dream into a million pieces.

  The bile within her stomach roiled, her mouth was parched, and her throat knotted. If looks could kill, all of him would be dissected in a slow painful way. No, even that would be too good for him. Like an ice water plunge, she recognized it was never about the two of them.

  How could she have once admired him? His expression told a different story. Cassandra sought but couldn’t hear any pain in his voice. His eyes were cold and remote. She went to the desk and trifled with the heavy brass paperweight. With a speed she didn’t know she commanded, aimed it at his head.

  He flinched, but not before it skimmed the side of his temple. His hand we
nt to the slight cut. “Perhaps I deserved that,” he said.

  “You deserve so much more.” Her tone was icy.

  She moved a few paces back. He preened like a stuffed peacock and she wanted to wipe the smile off his face with a sharp blade and gut his gizzard. “You have stolen my future like a thief. Fear not, I will return the favor when you least expect it.”

  “You aren’t yourself.”

  A book winged its way toward him. He ducked as it hit the heavy oak door.

  Her hands clenched at her sides so she might contain the urge to throw the porcelain vase next. Harold wasn’t her best choice, but if she could have the luxury to choose love, it wouldn’t have been him.

  He turned away. “I must go.” Harold Viscount Fox left the room.

  Ironic, his large back no longer held appeal. It was his willingness to adopt her ward, Alicia that turned the tide in his favor. There would be the embarrassment of returning the engagement gifts. The wedding dress and veil that hung in her armoire could not be returned, yet another expense—not to mention the looks and pity of her friends.

  There were the vendors who’d contracted to provide all the accoutrements for a nuptial reception. She needed time to think and plan. If, if, if…

  Gloom spread through her and made her cringe.

  Cassandra could no longer stay in her brother’s house. Her sister-in-law, Felicity made threats against Alicia. Her brother’s new wife, a former actress, hinted that Cassandra would be best situated away from her sight. Felicity preferred to believe the rumors that Alicia was the result of a failed liaison. Besides, her brother already had Alfie, his son and heir.

  She had no doubt the woman was capable of any horrific act if it suited her future. The shrewd lady hid her vicious nature from her husband. Cassandra must find a new fiancé and new lodging fast.

  Her situation was grave. Alicia was the child of her best friend who died in childbirth, and begged Cassandra to care for the babe. Under the circumstances, would she do it again? The answer was an emphatic yes. Besides, promises were not meant to be broken no matter the reason.

  Cassandra lifted her gaze, aware of a presence in the room. A gentleman stood before her dressed in impeccable formal attire. He offered his glass of port with one hand, and his initialed handkerchief with the other. “I waited for the appropriate moment to announce my presence. Please accept my apologies. I overheard your conversation.”

  Cassandra grabbed for it, dabbed at her eyes, and returned the linen to him. She accepted the glass and drank it in one swift gulp. The sweet wine soothed as it glided off her tongue into her throat. She handed the wine glass back and tried to focus on him through her teary eyes.

  “It was rude of you, nonetheless, to have eavesdropped on an intimate conversation. Is this my evening to meet scoundrels?”

  Chapter Two

  Cassandra wanted to hide and die somewhere. She wished her mama were alive so she could escape to the comfort of her arms. A soulful, inescapable loneliness overwhelmed. The sensation of dizziness rained over her. It started at her head and exited her toes. She summoned every ounce of courage and control. Thankfully, it made its erratic way back.

  “I recognize you’re upset, Lady Cassandra, but I’m not the scoundrel in this circumstance. My desire was to repose in the high-back chair to escape the throng of anxious ladies who believe with certainty I can be reformed into an eligible bachelor.”

  “So you say. Who might you be, Sir?” She whipped out her fan in an attempt to regain her composure and created a breeze to cool her flushed cheeks.

  “I regret there is no one to introduce us. I am Althorn, at your service.” He bowed with a flourish. “And you, my lady?”

  “I am Lady Cassandra Montgomery, who was engaged and is now jilted by Harold Viscount Fox. May he be damned to Hades. My responsibilities are tremendous if you consider I have a ward, and little money. Perhaps you would care to marry me?” Her curious stare held his gaze. “No?” The accusatory smile curled at the end of her mouth said all. She snapped the ivory tipped fan closed. “If you will give me another glass of port, I will free you of such a proposition.”

  He strode to the decanter and turned to face her. “There is something familiar about you. Have we met before?” The duke poured the drink and handed it to her. She accepted, but took smaller sips.

  “Alicia and I often visit your mother, the dowager, whenever we are in Brighton. I’m sure she will remember us. Your mother was fond of my ward. Now we are back and will renew our acquaintance. Perhaps you have seen us in our travels?”

  “Quite possible. She would be happy to meet you again, I’m sure. However, if I may warn you, her circumstances are much changed. She was injured in a fall and it’s affected her ability to speak. She can write and does so to communicate and is under the constant supervision of a caretaker. They don’t seem to last long. I suppose I’m a harsh task master. Please feel free to visit at any time.”

  “I’m sorry to hear of her illness. With your approval, we will visit soon.”

  “It is most kind of you. I will so inform her.”

  “I have heard of you, though, your Grace. You are an acknowledged rake in your own right, but tonight I thank for your time and compassion.”

  She lowered her gaze to the medallion on the Aubusson oriental carpet so she wouldn’t have to witness the pity his face might express. “It seems the Viscount will now be the heir apparent to his father’s fortunes. Damn him, too.”

  “I wear my faults as medals, but never have I done what I’ve heard.” He bowed his head. “I could never become affianced for money. An offer of marriage is sacred even to a man like me.”

  “Then I commend you.” She straightened her spine and lifted her chin.

  Althorn strode closer. “I fear you have been used. A true gentleman would have spoken to your male relatives first and faced their wrath. Besides, we have just shared a personal moment.”

  “I beg to differ, your Grace. You overheard an intimate concern about me. You will go on your way and not think a moment about this situation while I will have to deal with the agony of a tarnished reputation, not to mention money woes. It was my blunt that paid for all the fripperies of this disastrous engagement. And…there is little left. My fiancé’s mother’s bequest would occur upon his marriage. He was to reimburse me. Now it goes to another who perhaps has no need. Ironic, isn’t it?”

  “You, my lady Cassandra, remind me of a wounded puppy in need of attention.”

  “Be careful. Wounded puppies are known to bite with intensity.”

  “I admire your courage in the face of adversity.”

  “I have lived with it all my life. It shall not best me now. May I call you Althorn in private? I’m not one for pomp and honorifics.”

  A smile turned at his lips. “Yes. It would be an honor.” He paused and walked toward her. “How will you tell your brother of the news?” His forehead furrowed.

  “I’ve found there are times when the truth is the best weapon, but I shall tell both my brothers tomorrow when Harold Viscount Fox is gone. My youngest brother visits from India and will return there soon. Both are precious and I don’t want them injured on my behalf. A reputation in tatters doesn’t matter. I shall endure. I have Montgomery blood in my veins…and forged steel in my heart.”

  He laughed. “I admire your spirit, Cassandra, if I may address you by your given name.”

  “By all means you may, but I do not need admiration. I require a husband. Can you find me one?”

  This time her brows arched in jest, a sly smile escaped her lips. Perhaps her glances were a bit flirtatious? Or was it false bravado on her part?

  She liked the cleft on his chin that held humor.

  The duke withdrew a step, placed his hands behind his back, stood erect, reminding her of a wax statue. “No.” His answer was swift.

  She laughed in dismissal. “Then if you would, please take me to my family. Thank you for your sympathy tonight. You are relieved o
f any further obligation to me.”

  The duke extended his arm and she accepted. “Perhaps, dear lady, we can scandalize the ton tonight and dance the hours away. What a delight it would be.”

  Cassandra smiled at him. “I do believe it would be a scandal for me, a purportedly engaged woman, to prance into the ball on your arm. Your reputation does follow you. I will spend the time with my brothers. Although, this evening, I might prefer to be…with you. Perhaps another time, another place, or in another lifetime?” She paused, her head held tall, and engaged his glance. “The words I’ve just spoken were disguised bravery. It will never happen.”

  The duke and Cassandra left the room. To her surprise, Harold Viscount Fox was in the corridor, his back to a paneled wall and a bent leg against the painted wainscot. He presented himself to the duke and nodded. “Cassandra, you’ve found a companion to soothe your disappointment, but all things considered I will never utter words to your detriment.”

  Of course, the assumption could be made that the duke and Cassandra had a tryst if they were seen leaving the secluded room together.

  Althorn held the glare of the Viscount, his hand on her arm. “Your words no longer are of import to me,” she said. “You left me with the Duke of Althorn. Do you require an introduction, or have you met before?” If she held her chin any higher, she might resemble a swan.

  The duke replied in a stern tone, “Fox, now that you’ve spoken your worthless piece, remove your presence so we may enter the ballroom. Though, I would be careful if I were you. My reach is far. I will tolerate no accusations against this lady. You have done enough damage for one evening.”

  “Viscount,” she called. “I do have something to give you.” She removed her hand from the duke’s arm, and with speed and strength, smacked the Viscount across his cheek. “There, now we’re even.” She returned her arm to the duke.

  There was a stunned moment of silence as Viscount Fox’s hand went to his left cheek. He stepped forward, turned on a heel and left without a word.

  “I would applaud your action, my lady.”

  “Thank you, your Grace. I feel so much better already.” She gave a wide grin, then re-entered the ballroom on the arm of his Grace, Gordon Althorn, head held high. The crowd gazed in question at the sight, the room stilled, and tongues started to whisper.