Ravaging the Duke Read online

  Ravaging the Duke

  by

  J R Salisbury

  Ravaging the Duke

  Mayfair series

  By: J. R. Salisbury

  Copyright © 2018 Jamie Salisbury writing as J.R. Salisbury

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design: Dar Albert/Wicked Smart Designs

  Editing/Proofreading: Lauralynn Elliott

  Formatting: Anya Kelleye Designs

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it, and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. To obtain permission to excerpt portions of the text, please contact the author at [email protected]

  The best way to stay in touch is to subscribe to my newsletter. Go to www.jamiesalisbury.com and subscribe in the box on the top of the screen that asks for your name and email. If you don't hear from me regularly, please check your spam filter and set up your email to allow my messages through to you so you never miss a new book, a chance to win great prizes or a possible appearance in your area.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Jamie Salisbury

  http://www.jamiesalisbury.com/

  Also by J. R. Salisbury

  Mayfair series

  Dealing with the Duchess

  MacLeods of Skye

  Donnan's Rose

  Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,

  And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

  Nor hath love’s mind of any judgement taste;

  Wings and no eyes figure unheedy haste.

  And therefore is love said to be a child

  Because in choice he is so oft beguiled.

  A Midsummer Night's Dream

  Table of 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

  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

  About the Author

  Books by Author

  Follow Me

  Chapter One

  “What you need, Wexwood, is a wife. One with a decent enough dowry,” the Earl of Norwood said, stretching his long, muscular legs out in front of his chair as he lit a cheroot.

  Alec ran his hand through his thick black hair, unfolded his lanky frame from behind the large mahogany desk, and wandered over to the table placed against the wall nearest the desk. He picked up a decanter of whiskey in one hand and two glasses in the other. Though it was late afternoon, now was as good a time as any to get foxed. It wasn’t as though he could show his face in White’s.

  “That would certainly solve a great deal, but I don’t see a line of young women queuing up to marry a disgraced duke.”

  He poured Norwood a glass full of whiskey and handed it to him. Pouring one for himself, he drank it down in one swallow before throwing the glass, slamming the crystal against the hearth. The sound of the remaining liquid hissed in retaliation.

  “That’s not going to solve anything,” Norwood said, sipping his whiskey.

  “No, but it certainly felt good.”

  “Back to your troubles. Pity Rebecca didn’t work out.”

  Rebecca, the one woman he thought loved him and whom he would marry, had left him. Departed for Italy to join her mother and aunt. The two months she was to be gone had now turned into six. Her last letter, dated over two months prior, indicated she had no idea when she’d return. It seemed her mother and aunt had convinced her that marriage to a duke with such a sullied reputation was not in her best interest.

  “Yes, it would have solved many problems.”

  “I may be able to help.”

  “Help, how?” Alec asked, pouring himself a fresh glass of whiskey. This time, he sipped the amber liquid before setting the glass on his desk.

  “I think I know the perfect woman.”

  “I thought you might know of some young woman somewhere. France, perhaps?”

  “Nothing that exotic. I do know such a lady, though she’s not French.”

  “Do tell.”

  “Her name is Margaret Douglas. Though her father moved the family to America some years ago, Miss Douglas recently arrived in London with her widowed mother. It seems her father had a horrific accident.”

  “All that’s sad, I’m sure, but how would she be able to help me?”

  “Her dowry is probably the fattest in all of Great Britain. On top of that, the young woman refuses to marry anyone chosen for her. She trusts few.”

  “How am I to get past her fear?”

  “Miss Douglas is my cousin.”

  “Your cousin?” Alec said in disbelief.

  “Yes, on my mother’s side. From the few times I’ve been able to talk with Margaret alone, she very much wants to marry, but on her terms.”

  “I don’t understand. Does she want a marriage of convenience? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “She wants someone who will take the time to get to know her, manage her money well, and give her a couple of children. Love isn’t necessary.”

  Alec stared at his friend in disbelief. “When do I meet your esteemed American cousin?”

  “How about dinner? Tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Where?”

  “My home here. She and her mother are my guests at the moment.”

  Alec arched a brow and took a swallow of whiskey. “What's her mother like?”

  “Aunt Beatrice adores Margaret. She’s a quiet but stern woman when it comes to her daughter. You have nothing to worry about, Alec. You’re a duke now. Margaret couldn’t do any better.”

  “Except I’m a disgraced duke.”

  “Through no fault of your own,” Monty replied, holding his glass up in mock salute. “I can’t believe we didn’t think of this sooner.”

  “Your aunt and cousin weren’t here, and I thought Rebecca and I had something.”

  “True. This might work. Margaret isn’t part of the aristocracy, and she has little tolerance for such things.”

  “Then we must try. One other thing: is she pretty?”

  Monty laughed. “I think you’ll find Margaret quite attractive. She also has a mind of her own.”

  “Good.”

  His father had left the family disgraced. At least it had left his mother and him in social ruin. His mother now stayed most of the time in the dowager house in Kent or Surrey, seeing no one but family and a few old and trusted friends. And she’d spent part of her time in Paris where no one thought twice about such English matters, staying in the Duke of Evermont’s Paris home.

  Her invitations were stil
l nonexistent in London.

  His were not much better. A soiree here or there. A night at the theater, usually at the invitation of his sister and her husband, the Duke of Evermont. Cameron had turned out to be his staunchest supporter through all this.

  What he needed was a wife with a decent dowry. Better yet, he needed a wife of convenience—one like Norwood’s American cousin, perhaps. Love didn’t exist except in rare instances like the marriage of Cameron and Eleanor. His parents certainly had had a loveless marriage.

  What if he could find a woman who thought the same way and wasn’t starry-eyed for love?

  "Tell me more about your cousin, Norwood."

  Norwood smiled at him. "Like I said, she's not some starry-eyed debutant. She's been well educated in other things besides the usual lady's offerings of embroidery and music. She has a far better grasp of real life. Margaret could easily run an estate or know how to make sure an estate manager is doing his job. She would be a real asset to you and your businesses. "

  "Excellent. What about her temperament? She will become a duchess after all."

  "It's hard to say with her mother around all the time. I do find her quite sweet, but don't be fooled by that. From what I have found, she's a lady who won't let a man take advantage of her. She's quite astute. She would make you a smart duchess."

  "Very good. I look forward to meeting her and her mother."

  Alec smiled and polished off his drink. Tomorrow wouldn't come soon enough.

  "Is there anything else I should know about your cousin?" Alec inquired. "What are her likes, her passions?"

  "She loves horses. Her father had a small farm where he bred thoroughbreds. Margaret learned early on how to break the youngsters."

  "Interesting."

  "Quite. I understand her father took a stud with him to America who possessed a remarkable racing ability. That animal was the foundation for his line in America."

  Laughter gleamed in Alec's eyes. "Surely your cousin was not involved in that part of the farm?"

  "No, but Margaret is not squeamish nor a prude."

  "That's good to know."

  Norwood shifted his weight in his chair. "I know you need the dowry my cousin would bring to a marriage, but I also hope you will get to know her. Perhaps, in time, you'll grow to love her. Don't be marred by your parent's marriage. Not all are loveless."

  Alec nodded. "I know, and I hope we'll become good friends, though, I don't believe love exists, except in rare cases."

  "I understand. Just give her a chance to find a place in your heart, Alec. Don't close her out of your heart."

  "I won't. I promise."

  Chapter Two

  Alec was quite taken with Miss Douglas from the moment he laid eyes on her. There was an instant attraction. At least on his end. She was a gorgeous young woman. A breath of fresh air. Her hair was a deep shade of ginger, probably coming from her father's Scottish ancestors. Her eyes were a green like he'd never seen before. They sparkled as though she were full of mischief. She seemed to be curved in all the right places and presented herself just as he imagined his future duchess would. She was poised and sure of herself. Not some wallflower.

  He held his breath as Norwood made the introductions. "May I introduce my cousin, Margaret Douglas? Margaret, my old friend, the Duke of Wexwood."

  She curtsied. As she rose, her eyes met his. "A pleasure to meet you, Your Grace. Norwood mentioned the two of you have been friends since you were boys."

  Alec smiled. "Yes, we have. He's one of my oldest friends."

  "I see Aunt Beatrice has made a new friend," Norwood said. He looked across the room at his aunt, who was laughing at something the Countess of Litchfield had said. The countess was known for being unconventional.

  "It's good to see her laugh. It's been a while." She turned to Alec. "My father died almost two years ago. Mother was devastated when he died. We thought returning to England would help her. So far, it's been the best decision."

  "I'm glad you chose to return to England, Miss Douglas." He smiled. She seemed at ease in his presence. Most young English ladies would be giggling and hiding behind their fans.

  Before she could answer, the dinner gong sounded. It meant they would be paired off and seated in order of rank. Sometimes the English aristocracy was absurd. The rules never changed. It never mattered what you wanted, the rules dictated what you were suppose to do and how one was to act.

  "I have spoken to my mother. Since I am to escort her, she though perhaps you'd be agreeable to escorting Miss Douglas. The Marquis of York will do the honors of escorting my aunt," Norwood whispered. He smiled.

  "Remind me to thank your mother."

  Norwood turned to Margaret, who'd been watching the couples line up to enter the dining room. "Wexwood will escort you into dinner."

  "Thank you, cousin. I'm sure we'll have a most enjoyable time," she replied with a gleam in her eye.

  Norwood bowed and turned in search of his mother.

  Alec offered his arm. "Has Norwood explained the meaning of all this?"

  "No, but his mother and mine did."

  She looked as though she were holding something back. There was a twinkle of mischief in her eye that told Alec the lady had thoughts of her own regarding whatever it was. She gave him that perfect smile of hers, sending lust roaring down his legs.

  "I take it you don't approve of our ways?" Alec asked.

  "I neither approve nor disapprove. It's how one behaves inside one’s own home that matters. Not what society dictates."

  She was magnificent.

  "Tell me what you are really thinking."

  "Marriage here is, at least within the aristocracy, a matter of bloodlines, family connections and such. True love is a rarity."

  "Are marriages not arranged in America?"

  She smiled. "I never said they weren't. We simply don't have such a strict book of rules, and yes, true love is known to happen. More than here I suspect."

  They walked arm and arm through the doorway. Though normally he, as the highest ranking gentleman, would be seated at the head of the table across from his hostess, the dowager countess made it clear tonight was to be relaxed in honor of their American guests.

  Alec breathed a sigh of relief. He hated the idea of leaving Miss Douglas in the hands of Marlborough or any other man. It was bad enough the Earl of Sussex was seated next to her. He might not like her bluntness. She was plain spoken like Norwood had mentioned. Something he found refreshing.

  He smiled at her. Do you believe in love, Miss Douglas?"

  "Absolutely, and you, Your Grace? Do you believe in love?"

  "I believe it exists, yes."

  "I detect a hesitation in your voice."

  "It's nothing, I assure you. I know love exists when I look at my sister and her husband."

  She arched an eyebrow. "Was their marriage prearranged like so many here, or is it a marriage of true love?"

  "The latter," he replied. He didn't want to tell her everything all at once, and he wondered just how much Norwood had told her already about him.

  "I understand some prearranged unions do turn into love matches."

  "Yes..."

  He was about to say more, perhaps give her how some of the aristocracy viewed their world, but they were interrupted not only by a footman, but also that prig Sussex.

  Alec suffered through the seven course meal, speaking with Miss Douglas as often as he could. Sussex had tried to take control from the very beginning. He was a rotund, balding man who looked far older than his one and thirty. Too many nights of drink and rich food and less time spent outdoors during the day, but a rake like Sussex would only change when desperate times arose. Soon, however, he realized that Miss Douglas was merely humoring him. Too many glasses of wine served during the meal brought out the real man. He was quite foxed by the time dessert was brought out. Though he didn't show any physical signs, the man did become louder, more boisterous. Alec cringed at the fact most of the table could p
robably hear the man go on and on about his estates and wealth.

  Then the earl said the unmentioned. If they'd been anywhere else, Alec might have pounded him to the floor.

  "You do know, my dear, that Wexwood is looking for a wife. One with a huge dowry to rescue him out of the dark times he is facing," the earl said in a mocking tone. "I understand you have such a dowry."

  Margaret put her fork down with the utmost care as she addressed Sussex. "What I may or may not have is none of your business, sir. From what I do know about the Duke of Wexwood is that any problems he may have at present are not of his making. Therefore, they mean nothing to me. The duke appears to be a smart man. I'm sure he'll do quite well, and his estates will flourish. Furthermore, I detest gossips of any kind, sir."

  Alec wanted to grab her and kiss her right then. She was standing up for him. A strong-willed woman who would not let any man talk down to her.

  She turned to face Alec. Her face was solemn. "I apologize if I spoke out of turn, Your Grace. My cousin has shared some of your dilemmas with me. The earl was out of line."

  An untamed ginger curl had broken loose, landing on her forehead. She was gorgeous. He had to know more of this blunt spoken woman.

  "No harm was done. It's well known what my father did and how he left the family. I'm quite used to it."

  "I don't see how. That man was horrid."

  Alec smiled. "I've learned to ignore men like him. One of these days, things will turn around. My estates will begin to turn a profit once again. It's not something that happens in a short time. It'll take several years before I see a turnaround."

  "I'm sure you're going to be quite successful, Your Grace."

  "Thank you." He paused for a moment. "Miss Douglas, would you and your mother care to go for a carriage ride day after tomorrow? We have some great parks here in London, and since I understand you're an excellent horsewoman, I'll make sure to bring along a couple of horses we could ride."

  "I would love to, Your Grace. However, we'll need to speak with my mother first."

  "Of course." He nodded, smiling on the inside. Perhaps Norwood was right. Maybe Margaret was the one. She certainly was receptive to him, not a timid debutant. That he didn't need nor want. It seemed to him American women were quite refreshing.