Falling for the forbidde.., p.1
Falling for the Forbidden Duke, page 1
Those Roguish Rosemonts
Three brothers with rakish pasts find love where they least expect it
Three brothers, three young men from a privileged, aristocratic background. All are expected to uphold the Rosemont family name—which means giving up their roguish ways and marrying well. But are they ready to make convenient marriages where love is second to duty? That is when they each meet a woman who challenges them and convinces them that love is the only way to find true happiness.
Read Ethan’s story in
A Dance to Save the Debutante
Jake’s story in
Tempting the Sensible Lady Violet
Luther’s story in
Falling for the Forbidden Duke
All available now!
Author Note
Falling for the Forbidden Duke is the final book of the Those Roguish Rosemonts series. It features Luther Rosemont, the Duke of Southbridge, who has avoided being captured by husband-seeking debutantes for the past ten Seasons. Then he meets Georgina Daglish, the illegitimate daughter of a former courtesan. He’s immediately smitten, but just as immediately aware that she is wholly inappropriate as a duchess. Especially as Georgina has plans of her own, ones that do not include a man or marriage.
Luther and Georgina’s story was a fun one to write as they are equally feisty and equally determined not to fall in love. I hope you enjoy reading Falling for the Forbidden Duke as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I love hearing from readers and can be reached through my website, www.evashepherd.com, or on Facebook, www.Facebook.com/evashepherdromancewriter.
EVA SHEPHERD
Falling for the Forbidden Duke
After graduating with degrees in history and political science, Eva Shepherd worked in journalism and as an advertising copywriter. She began writing historical romances because it combined her love of a happy ending with her passion for history. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand, but spends her days immersed in the world of late Victorian England. Eva loves hearing from readers and can be reached via her website, evashepherd.com, and her Facebook page, Facebook.com/evashepherdromancewriter.
Books by Eva Shepherd
Harlequin Historical
A Victorian Family Christmas
“The Earl’s Unexpected Gifts”
Those Roguish Rosemonts
A Dance to Save the Debutante
Tempting the Sensible Lady Violet
Falling for the Forbidden Duke
Young Victorian Ladies
Wagering on the Wallflower
Stranded with the Reclusive Earl
The Duke’s Rebellious Lady
Breaking the Marriage Rules
Beguiling the Duke
Awakening the Duchess
Aspirations of a Lady’s Maid
How to Avoid the Marriage Mart
Visit the Author Profile page
at Harlequin.com.
To my two oldest friends, both called Susan: Sue L and Susie K.
And by “oldest,” I mean time served, not your ages.
Contents
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
Epilogue
Excerpt from Lord Lancaster Courts a Scandal by Helen Dickson
Chapter One
Somerset, England, 1892
Luther Rosemont, the Eighth Duke of Southbridge, had endured a staggering ten London Seasons and had still not found his bride. Some would say he was being overly picky. Luther would not.
There was no denying he had exceedingly high standards, but if a duke couldn’t demand the highest of standards, then who could?
He came from a long, illustrious line of dukes who stretched back to the Tudor era. He was honour-bound to marry a woman with the same impeccable breeding as himself, one with a pedigree that marked her out as a duchess. This was a lesson that had been drummed into him by his father from the moment he had been capable of understanding, or, knowing how dogmatic his father had been, probably since his time in the cradle.
While it was not essential, Luther also wished his duchess to be intelligent, cultured and of a pleasant disposition. And, as her primary duty would be to produce the next duke, and preferably a spare or two, a level of mutual attraction would be advantageous. After all, the act of procreation should be more than just a duty for them both.
He did not expect love. That was a luxury to which lesser men could aspire and was another lesson that his father had never ceased to drill into him. Dukes put their duty to the family first and were above such petty concerns.
His two brothers, Ethan and Jake, had both married for love, and for that Luther was pleased. But he was neither the spare, as Jake was, nor the spare’s spare, as was the case with Ethan. He was the Duke.
Finding the perfect duchess was just one of his many duties, along with managing the Rosemont estates, caring for the extended Rosemont family, which contained more first, second and third cousins than he could count, and ensuring the welfare of his tenants and servants.
And yet it was that duty that pressed down on him like a heavy burden.
Luther continued to stare out of the window at the Rosemont Estate, with its trees bare of foliage, the garden pruned back and waiting to burst forth in spring, and the grey winter sky, while contemplating this seemingly insurmountable task.
He could put it off no longer. Whether he liked it or not, this Season he had to find a duchess.
He squared his shoulders, lifted his chin and adopted the imperious pose of his ancestors, whose portraits lined the walls of Rosemont House.
As the Duke of Southbridge, he was expected to face every challenge with fortitude, strength and stoicism. His father had pointed out, repeatedly, that his predecessors had shown such strength of character when leading men into battle. It was now up to Luther to follow in their exalted footsteps and do nothing that would bring shame on his venerated ancestors.
He released a loud exhalation of frustration and his shoulders slumped. No one was asking him to lead troops into battle. All that was expected of him was to find a damn wife.
He just wished that attending the London Season and facing the twittering debutantes and their ambitious mothers wasn’t so excruciatingly dull. His first few Seasons had been almost tolerable. He’d done a quick assessment of the available debutantes. Once he’d established that none had what he was looking for in a potential duchess he’d been able to escape to more enjoyable pursuits, knowing that there was still plenty of time, and that there’d be another Season next year and another crop of debutantes.
But with each successive Season the ordeal was becoming more tedious. Year after year, a seemingly interchangeable stream of debutantes was presented to him. They were all starting to look the same, sound the same, until they merged into a swirl of pastel silk gowns and constant smiles.
He’d almost prefer to be dressed in heavy armour and wielding a sword on Bosworth Field or facing down the French bowmen at Agincourt, as previous dukes had done, than endure yet another Season.
It wouldn’t be so bad if the debutantes didn’t seem to be getting younger and more mindless with each passing Season. He knew that wasn’t true. They remained eighteen, the traditional age at which a young woman made her debut. It was he who was getting older. Now he was a man of twenty-nine, those innocent young women were starting to make him feel positively ancient.
He moved from the window to the sideboard, poured himself a glass of brandy and swirled the amber liquid around the bottom of the balloon-shaped glass. It was a bit early in the day, but he needed something to assuage his grim mood, brought on by his mother’s announcement over the breakfast table.
She had got it in her head that Luther need not wait the three months before the next Season began, as she had found his bride and invited her for the weekend.
According to his mother, Lady Olivia, the only daughter of the Earl of Dallington, was now of age and reputed to be perfect in every way. That was yet to be seen. After all, his mother had made that claim before, on more occasions than Luther could remember. But hopefully, this time she had not exaggerated the young lady’s virtues and Lady Olivia would meet his expectations.
He threw back his brandy, looked over at the decanter, thought better of it and placed his empty glass on the nearest table.
‘Show some fortitude, strength and stoicism, for God’s sake. You’re a duke, so act like one.’
He heard his father’s gruff voice. The man had been dead for twelve years, and yet his voice often rang clear in Luther’s mind, reminding him constantly that he had not yet performed this one, simple duty expected of him.
As the daughter of the Earl of Dallington, Lady Olivia’s had a lineage almost as long as the Rosemonts’, an
d if she was as pretty, sweet-natured and intelligent as his mother claimed, then perhaps this weekend would be an enjoyable one, and not the waste of time he was expecting.
He needed to be positive. If she was the one, then his quest would come to an end. Not only would he have done his duty but he would also never have to face another Season.
He shuddered at the thought, relented and poured himself another brandy, then drank a toast to Lady Olivia, hoping with all his heart she would indeed prove to be his perfect duchess.
* * *
Georgina Daglish knew she should be grateful and most of the time she was. Although, on some days showing constant gratitude demanded more forbearance than she believed herself capable of. Today was one such day.
Lady Dallington was on the rampage. And when such moods took her, Georgina was inevitably in her firing line. To stop herself from exploding and telling Lady Dallington what a silly, irrational and downright irritating woman she was, Georgina did what she always did and reminded herself to take pity on the lady.
She closed her eyes, drew in a calming breath and recited all the reasons why she should be tolerant of Lady Dallington’s all but intolerable behaviour.
It could not be easy for her. Every day she was confronted with evidence of her husband’s infidelity. Every time she saw Georgina she was reminded that her husband had kept a mistress. The Earl of Dallington had known Georgina’s mother before he married Lady Dallington and continued to visit her at her Bloomsbury home after his marriage, a home which he had bought for her, and the liaison only ending with the untimely death of Georgina’s mother just over four years ago.
Now the child of that union was living in Lady Dallington’s house as her husband’s ward. Georgina knew that her mere presence was an insult to Lady Dallington, and a constant reminder that, despite being a countess, she was just as powerless as any other woman, and had to do exactly as her husband demanded.
If it was up to Lady Dallington, Georgina would have been tossed out onto the street to live in the gutter, which was where the Countess believed she belonged. Instead, the Earl, her father, had accepted her into the family and treated her with the same aloof affection with which he treated his legitimate daughter, Lady Olivia.
‘Why on earth did you drag my daughter out for a walk in such inclement weather?’ Lady Dallington barked as Georgina and Olivia shrugged off their thick woollen cloaks. ‘And today of all days. Oh, my goodness, Olivia, your hair,’ she squawked. ‘You have to look your best and now the rain has made it frizzy.’ She turned to face Georgina. ‘My daughter’s hair is frizzy and it is all your fault.’
‘It was my idea,’ Olivia interrupted the tirade. ‘I needed to get out and feel the fresh air on my face before getting cooped up inside all weekend.’
‘Cooped up inside? How can you say such a thing? You’ll be spending the weekend at the most well-appointed home in England, and in the company of a duke, no less.’
She stroked back her daughter’s blonde hair and turned to Georgina with a disapproving glare. ‘I know this was your idea and my lovely daughter is just trying to protect you, yet again. Unlike some people, she at least knows how to act like a lady.’
Georgina clenched her teeth tightly together to stop herself saying that the only person present not acting like a lady was Lady Dallington herself.
‘Oh, but ladies take walks, don’t they, Mama?’ Olivia said, nudging Georgina and giggling.
‘Not when they’re expected to get ready for the most important journey of their lives. I impeach you, when we are at the Duke’s home, do not let Gina influence you or sabotage your chances of making such an advantageous marriage.’
Lady Dallington could never bring herself to use Georgina’s full name, not when it was so similar to her husband’s given name, George. But at least she had actually used a name this time. Usually Georgina was merely referred to as You there, or Girl, and they were among the more polite terms.
Olivia was about to say something else, but Georgina gave her a small nudge. Lady Dallington might be at her most annoying, but she was right. Olivia did need to get ready, look her very best and prepare herself for what might be a life-changing visit. Hopefully, by the end of this weekend a duke would be courting her, or, better still, would have offered her his hand in marriage.
That was possibly the only area in which Georgina and Lady Dallington were in agreement. They both wanted the best for Olivia, and Georgina knew that such a marriage was what her sister wanted.
Although why women wanted marriage so desperately was something Georgina could never quite understand. From observing the life of Lady Dallington, it seemed she was no less dependent on the good graces of a man than Georgina’s mother had been. Lady Dallington had respectability and status, but in all matters she had to defer to her husband as if she were a child with no mind of her own.
That would never do for Georgina, but Olivia wanted to marry, so if she was to do so it would be wonderful if she reached the very pinnacle of society and married a duke.
Where Georgina differed from Lady Dallington was that she only wanted that marriage for Olivia if the Duke was a kind man who treated his wife with the utmost respect. She would wish this for all women, but Olivia deserved it more than most.
Georgina loved her sister, and her happiness meant everything in the world to her. From the moment she had joined the Dallington household, Olivia had treated her with nothing but kindness. She had been sixteen when her mother died, and Olivia thirteen. The Earl had kindly taken his illegitimate daughter into his home as his ward, something many men in his position would not have done.
While Lady Dallington had made it abundantly clear that she was not wanted, Olivia had been excited by her arrival, telling Georgina she had always wanted a sister and they would always be the best of friends.
And they had been. While Georgina had to feign gratitude towards Lady Dallington, there was nothing false about her eternal gratitude to Olivia for her sweetness and generosity of spirit. The death of her mother had left her bereft, and Olivia had seen her through those dark days and continued to bring light into Georgina’s life.
She deserved to become a duchess and deserved to marry a man who would love and cherish her. If the Duke was such a man, then Georgina would do everything she could to encourage the match.
‘I believe your mother is correct, Lady Olivia,’ Georgina said. ‘We should get ready for the journey.’
‘Now, go and get dressed for the trip,’ Lady Dallington said, as if Georgina had not spoken. ‘Both of you,’ she added. ‘Although why we have to take Gina with us, I’ll never know.’
Because your husband said so, Georgina would like to have said, and that means, as his wife, you have to do as you’re told.
Olivia lifted her chin in defiance. ‘Because if Georgina doesn’t come with us, I’m not going either.’
Lady Dallington sent Georgina a furious look, as if she had been the one who had spoken.
‘Well, she is going, so you don’t need to do her bidding. She’s got her wish even though I believe it’s a big mistake. What will the Duke think of us when we turn up with...’ Lady Dallington’s frown became more pronounced and her nostrils flared as if she could smell something unpleasant ‘...with my husband’s ward?’
‘He’ll think how lucky I am to have such a lovely sister,’ Olivia said, smiling at Georgina.
‘She is your father’s ward,’ Lady Dallington all but shouted. While everyone knew Georgina’s true parentage, this was never openly discussed. A pretence was maintained that Georgina had just sprung from nowhere, with no parents or background, and for some unknown reason the Earl had decided to make her his ward. Everyone knew this to be a falsehood, but no one said differently.
‘Perhaps we should do as your mother says and ready ourselves for the journey,’ Georgina said quietly.
With her chin still in the air, Olivia turned and walked off towards the stairs. Georgina made to follow, but her progress was halted when the Countess grabbed her arm.
‘I want none of your tricks this weekend,’ she seethed into Georgina’s ear. ‘You are to stay in the background at all times. You will do nothing to attract the Duke’s attention. Do you understand me, girl?’
