MISLEADING A DUKE
A.S. Fenichel
Historical Romance
Finishing school failed to turn them into proper society ladies. Now these four friends vow to remain single until they find suitors worthy of their love and devotion…
Betrothed to a man she has barely met, Lady Faith Landon calls upon her three best friends—the self-proclaimed Wallflowers of West Lane—to help uncover the secrets of her mysterious fiancé. Her suspicions are aroused when she learns that he has recently returned from France. Is he a traitor to his country? The truth is quite the opposite. Nicholas Ellsworth, Duke of Breckenridge, is a secret agent for the English Crown who has just completed a risky mission to infiltrate Napoleon’s spy network.
After his adventures, Nicholas craves the peace and quiet of the country and settling into domestic bliss with his bride. Until he discovers Faith’s deceptive investigation. How can he wed a woman who doesn’t trust him? But a powerful spark has ignited between Nicholas and Faith that could bring about a change of heart. Faith seizes her second chance to prove to Nicholas that they are a true love match but his past catches up with them when three French spies come to exact revenge. Surviving rather than wooing has become the order of the day.
Praise for Misleading A Duke
Fenichel’s high-octane second Wallflowers of West Lane Regency romance (after The Earl Not Taken) follows a reluctantly betrothed couple as dire circumstances help them to see past their bad first impression. Lady Faith Landon earns the ire of her fiancé, Nicholas Ellsworth, the Duke of Breckenridge and a spy for the English government, when she and her friends snoop into his past. Faith hopes to explain that she was anxious and trying to learn more about him before their wedding day, but she needs the help of Nick’s friend and fellow spy Geb Arafa to convince him to hear her out. Geb requests Nick meet him at his hunting lodge, Parvus Castle, to discuss an urgent matter that Nick assumes to be of national importance. But when Nick arrives, he finds Faith waiting to plead her case. Her explanation is interrupted when French spies invade Parvus, take both captive, and torture Nick for information about the movement of English troops. Imprisoned together, Nick and Faith form an unshakable bond as Faith tends to Nick’s wounds and Nick witnesses her kindness and unflinching bravery. Fenichel juxtaposes the mannered world of Regency aristocracy with the gritty, life-or-death situation of Nick and Faith’s captivity to excellent effect. This immersive, fast-paced novel will have readers on the edges of their seats.
–Publishers Weekly
Amazon → https://amzn.to/3a99S4d
Chapter 1
The home of Geb Arafa, a mile outside of London
The last person Nicholas Ellsworth expected to find at his good friend
Geb Arafa’s dinner party was Lady Faith Landon. Yet there she was,
Nicholas’s fiancée, maddeningly pretty and equally aggravating. She fit
perfectly with the lush décor and priceless artifacts in Geb’s parlor. “Lady
Faith, I had not expected to find you here. In fact, you and your friends’
presence is an astonishment.”
“I hope you are not too put out. It seems Lord and Lady Marsden have
become fast friends with Mr. Arafa, and that friendship has extended to
the rest of the Wallflowers of West Lane.” Despite his desire to be rid
of her, Faith’s soft voice flowed over him like a summer stream and he
longed to hear that voice in the dark, in their bed. The way her curves
filled out the rose gown set his body aflame and there seemed nothing he
could do about it.
He shook away his attraction, reminding himself that this was a sneaky,
manipulative woman whom it had been a mistake to attach himself to. The
fact that he longed to find out if her honey-brown curls were as wild as they
promised, despite her attempts to tame them into submission, shouldn’t
matter. Nor should his desire to get lost in her wheat-colored eyes and
voluptuous curves. This was a woman made for loving.
Lord, he hated himself. “I wonder that your being here with those
friends is not some dire plot in the making.”
He had reason to be suspicious. When he’d first arrived home from
France, in the spring, she and her friends had engaged in spying on him
and trying to ferret out his past. It was intolerable. He should have called
off the engagement, but the thought of ruining her for good society didn’t
sit well with Nicholas. Instead he’d offered her the opportunity to set him
aside, but she had refused to do so as of yet.
She frowned, and was no less stunning. Her full lips longed to be kissed
back into an upturned state. “We are here because Mr. Arafa invited us.
He’s your friend. I’m surprised he didn’t mention it.”
Nick was equally bewildered by Geb’s silence on the matter of Faith
and the other members of the Wallflowers of West Lane. He had met them
on several occasions during his feeble efforts to get to know Faith. Her
instant suspicions that he was hiding something may have led to her friends’
actions, but he still couldn’t let the slight die. Though he did admire the
strength of the friendship between Faith and the three women she’d gone
to finishing school with. They were as close as any soldiers who fought
and died together. Even if they called themselves “wallflowers,” there was
nothing diminished about any of the four.
“He is not required to give me his invitation list.” It pushed out more
bitterly than intended.
Those cunning eyes narrowed. “I think you would like it exceedingly
well if he did.”
That she wasn’t wrong raised the hair on the back of Nick’s neck. He
had not been able to keep many friends over the years. His work for the
Crown had made that impossible. Now his friendship with Geb Arafa was
in jeopardy as well.
He bowed to her. “I do not always get what I want, Lady Faith.”
Head cocked, she raised one brown eyebrow. “Don’t you, Your Grace?”
Geb chose that moment to stroll over. His dark skin set off his bright
tawny eyes, and though he dressed in the black suit and white cravat
typical of an Englishman, there was no mistaking his Eastern background.
“Nicholas, I’m so glad you are here. I thought you might be held up
with politics.”
Nicholas accepted his offered hand. “I finished my meetings and
came directly.”
Smiling in her charming way, Faith’s golden eyes flashed. “I shall leave
you gentlemen to catch up.”
Both Nicholas and Geb bowed and watched her join her friends near
the pianoforte.
“She is a delightful woman, Nick. You should reconcile and marry her.”
Geb ran his hand through his black hair, smoothing it back from his forehead.
Not willing to let his attraction to Faith rule his decisions, Nicholas
forced down the desire seeing his betrothed always ignited in him. “She
is sneaky and devious. I shall wait for her to give up and call off.”
“I would have thought such character traits would appeal to you.” Geb
lowered his voice. “After all, you are a spy with much the same qualities.
You might consider speaking to the lady and finding out the details
behind her actions.”
“Why don’t you just tell me what you know, Geb?” It was obvious his
friend knew more than he’d disclosed thus far. Nicholas asking for more
was futile. If Geb was going to tell him more than he already had, he would
have done so months ago when he’d first informed him that Poppy and Rhys,
now the Earl and Countess of Marsden, were investigating his character.
Being spies meant that Geb and Nick kept their own counsel most of the
time. As an information broker, Geb was even more closemouthed than
most spies. He only offered what was necessary to complete a contract or,
in this case, to inform a friend of something less than critical.
“I am not at liberty to divulge that information.” Geb’s white
teeth gleamed.
“I didn’t realize you were so keen on keeping a lady’s secrets,”
Nicholas teased.
Grabbing his chest, Geb feigned a knife to the heart. “I would never tell
tales of a good woman. There have been a few ladies of our acquaintance
who were not reputable, and those who are part of our line of work whose
secrets I had few scruples about divulging.”
“Indeed.” As much as he wanted to be angry with Geb for befriending
Faith and her friends, he couldn’t manage it. The truth was, Geb was quite
discerning about who he called friend.
During the time he’d spent with them, he couldn’t help but like them as
well. They were the most spirited and brightest women he’d ever known. He
recalled a beautiful blonde in Spain who had tried to put a knife between
his ribs, and shuddered. At least he didn’t think these Wallflowers were out
for his blood, just his secrets. What he didn’t know, was why they were so
keen on divining his past. He might be a fool to think them innocent. His
trust of a sweet face in the past had nearly gotten him killed.
Geb nudged him out of his thoughts. “Talk to the girl.”
Glancing at where Faith stood drinking a glass of wine and talking
to Poppy Draper, Nicholas mused over if they were plotting their next
attempt to invade his privacy. “Perhaps later. First, I would like a glass of
your excellent cognac.”
“Avoiding her will not make your situation better,” Geb warned, his rich
Egyptian accent rounding the words and lending a sense of foreboding.
“The lady will decide I am not worth the trouble and find herself a less
complicated gentleman to attach herself to.”
Nodding, Geb said, “I’m certain that is true. She is too lovely for half
the men in London to not be in love with.”
Nicholas wished that thought didn’t form a knot in his gut. He also
longed for a day when Faith wouldn’t enter his mind a dozen times. She
had gotten under his skin before he’d even met her, and he couldn’t rid
himself of her spell. Even knowing it had been her mother and not the
lady herself who had written to him when he was in France hadn’t dulled
what he knew and liked about Faith Landon.
“One day you shall have to tell me how you came to this, my friend.”
Geb signaled for Kosey, his servant.
The extremely tall Egyptian wore a white turban and loose black pants
and a similar blouse. He carried a tray with two glasses of dark amber
cognac. “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, sir. Will that please you?”
Kosey spoke English in an Eastern way, which made the language warmer
and less harsh to the ear. It gained looks from some of the other guests,
but Nicholas liked the formal, old-fashioned speech.
“Very good,” said Geb.
Nick observed the gaping of the other guests. “Why have you invited
these snobs to Aaru, Geb?”
“Flitmore has some items I wish to obtain and Humphry has proved to
be a good source of information about certain parliamentary discussions.”
“I trust you would never use such information against my beloved
country.” A knot formed in Nick’s gut.
“No, but I might try to sway other members of your government. I like to
know what is happening in my adopted country, Nicholas. That is all. As a
foreigner, I have no say. This gives me some needed control.” Geb grinned.
Nick held back a scolding that would do no good.
“Do not look at me so ill. I merely use information to my advantage
just as everyone else does. I will share bits with them or buy back pieces
of Egyptian art. It will harm no one.”
Kosey moved to the door where he waited for word from the cook that
dinner was ready to be served.
Lord and Lady Flitmore gaped at Kosey. Perhaps it was his height as
he towered over everyone in the room. It might have been his odd clothes.
Whatever it was, their shocked regard needled at Nicholas.
Faith stepped between him and the couple. “Lady Flitmore, it’s nice to
see you again. I heard your daughter Mary would be here tonight, but I’ve
not seen her. I hope nothing is wrong. I know how she can get into mischief.”
Lord Flitmore coughed uncomfortably. “Mary had some trouble with
her gown and is coming in a later carriage. She will be here any moment.”
As if on cue, a footman announced the arrival of Lady Mary Yates.
A slim woman with red hair and flawless skin sauntered into the room.
Pretty in the classical way, her long, thin nose appeared in a perpetual state
of being turned up at everyone and everything. Hands folded lightly in
front of her, she walked directly to where Faith stood with Mary’s parents.
In a voice without modulation, Mary said, “Mother, Father, I’m sorry to
be late. I hope no one was waiting on me.”
The lack of any emotion in Mary’s voice made it difficult to tell if
she was sincere or just saying what was expected of her. “Thank you for
sending the carriage back for me.”
Lord Flitmore pulled his shoulders back and beamed at his daughter.
“Dinner has only just been announced, my dear girl. Please say hello to
His Grace, the Duke of Breckenridge.”
Mary made a pretty curtsy and plastered a wan smile on her rosy lips.
“How do you do, Your Grace?”
Bowing, Nick couldn’t help but notice the look of disdain that flitted
across Faith’s face. “A pleasure, Lady Mary. I’m pleased you could come
tonight. Do you know Lady Faith Landon?”
Another curtsy and a smile that likened to a wolf, and Mary said,
“Lady Faith and I went to the Wormbattle School together. We have been
acquainted for many years. How are you, Faith?”
Faith raised a brow. “Very well, Mary. You are looking fine. Your parents
tell me you’ve had some issue with your gown this evening.”
Mary’s gown was dark blue and threaded with gold. It pushed all her
assets up to the breaking point of the material at her breast and flowed
down, showing off her perfect figure. She blushed. “Just a small issue that
my maid and a needle and thread resolved easily enough.”
The ladies leered at each other.
Clearing his throat, Lord Flitmore said, “Mary, let me introduce
you to our host.”
“Of course,” Mary agreed, and with a nod to Nick, all three Yateses
left the circle.
Faith watched after Mary but had schooled her features to a pleasant
expression that no one could have noted anything amiss from. Nick had
many questions, but none of them were any of his business.
“Shall we go in to dinner?” As they were officially engaged, Nick
offered Faith his arm and they preceded the others into the dining room.
The long table had rounded corners and was draped in white linen.
Fine china leafed with gold, and highly polished crystal and silver, made
the setting gleam under three fully lit chandeliers hanging overhead, and
with four standing candelabras placed in all corners of the room. The
high-backed, dark wood chairs were cushioned with a pale blue damask.
It was decidedly English, and extremely elegant, to appeal to Geb’s guests.
At the head of the table, Geb welcomed everyone formally to his home
before launching into a story of being on a sinking ship, and the diners
were riveted despite the fact that most of them would not invite an Egyptian
man of no known rank into their own homes. Faith smiled warmly at Geb,
and Nick wondered if she were different. Would his friends, regardless of
their origins, be welcomed to her table?
He shook off the notion. He would not be going through with marrying
Faith Landon, no matter how much he desired her or how kind she pretended
to be. She had betrayed him with her spying, and he wouldn’t have it.
Another exception to the apparent prejudice against Geb were Rhys
and Poppy Draper. The earl and his bride genuinely liked Geb and had
become fast friends with him after being stranded at his house in a storm.
“Did you swim to shore from that distance, Mr. Arafa?” Poppy’s
blue eyes were wide and her dark hair and lashes made the color all the
more demonstrable.
Geb’s cheeks pinked and he laughed. “I’m afraid nothing so heroic,
my lady. I was hauled out of the ocean by a small fishing vessel. My lungs
were full of water and I caught a terrible ague and spent three weeks in
a Portuguese hospital.”
They all laughed with Geb.
Rhys Draper took a long pull on his wine. “I would be willing to bet
you were the most interesting thing those fishermen plucked from the
Atlantic that day. And you were damned lucky. Not only could you have
drowned, but if this had happened a year later, you might have been caught
up in Napoleon’s invasion.”
“Indeed, luck was with me that day and many others.” More sober, Geb
gave Nick a knowing look.
Nick noted his friend’s careful use of luck rather than invoke the name of
the Prophet in a room full of Christians. Knowing how religious Geb was,
Nick knew what he was thinking. They had experienced many adventures
together, and luck, Allah, or God had seen them through some things that
at the time, seemed impossible.
The footmen served the soup.
Nick noted that many of the guests poked at the fine broth, vegetables,
and bits of tender beef, but didn’t eat. The Yates family were among those
who would not eat from the table of an Egyptian but would be happy to
attend, since Geb was a good resource for many business dealings. Not
to mention the depth of Geb’s pocketbook.
Faith, Poppy, and Rhys ate with gusto. Perhaps more than was natural,
and Nick decided they had also noticed the rudeness of the other guests.
Besides the Yateses, Sir Duncan Humphrey, his wife and two sons,
Montgomery and Malcolm, were in attendance as well as William Wharton
and his wife. All were well respected among the ton and had obviously
not come for the food or company. They didn’t speak other than the
occasional thank you.
On Nick’s right, Faith sipped the last of her soup and turned to Mary.
“You didn’t like the soup?”
“I’m not hungry. I’m certain it is quite good.” Mary narrowed
her eyes at Faith.
“It’s really too bad, it was the best I’ve tasted.” Faith smiled warmly
and turned her attention back to Geb. “Poppy told me how wonderful your
cook is and now I can taste the truth of it.”
“You always did have a great love of food, Faith.” Mary’s voice rang with
disdain and she peered down that thin nose at Faith’s curvaceous figure.
Poppy looked ready to leap across the table and do Mary physical harm.
A low laugh from Faith calmed the situation. “I suppose where I am
fond of a good meal you are fond of a good bit of gossip. We each have
our hidden desires. Don’t we, Mary.”
It was a warning, but Nick didn’t have enough information to know
what was at stake.
Mary bit her bottom lip and narrowed her eyes before masking all
emotion and nodding. “I suppose that’s true of everyone.”
A flush of pride swept over Nick. He had no right to feel any sense
of esteem for Faith’s ability to outthink another woman and put her in
her place. Yet, he couldn’t help liking that she had not been bested by a
bigoted daughter of parents who would attend the dinner party of a man
they clearly didn’t like, but wanted something from.
Turning his attention back to Geb, Nick noted his friend’s amusement
at the social volley going on at the table. Geb smiled warmly at Poppy as
she changed the subject to the delectable pheasant and fine wine.
By the main course, Nick had given up on the other end of the table
and was ensconced in a lively conversation among the four people around
him. Rhys was well versed in politics and they discussed the state of coal
mines. Faith and Poppy both added their opinions, which were well thought
out and more astute than he would have thought for ladies of their rank.
Perhaps he should rethink his views of what ladies ponder in the course
of a day. Clearly it was more than stitching and tea patterns.
Geb, too, ignored the reticent group at the far end of the table and joined
the banter. When Kosey announced that cake and sherry were being served
in the grand parlor, Nick was disappointed to leave the conversation.
As soon as they entered the parlor, Flitmore cornered Geb about the
sale of several horses, and Sir Duncan wanted to know when the next
shipment of spices from India would be arriving.
Stomach turning at their duplicity, Nick escaped to the garden.
Geb had torches lighting the paths. The gardens here were one of Nick’s
favorite places in England. They were orderly and wild at once. White
stones lined the lanes meant to guide one through the low plantings. It
was a maze but without the threat of becoming lost. The fountain at the
far end broke the silence of the pleasant autumn night. Soon winter would
turn the garden into a wasteland and a good snow would give it the feel
of an abandoned house.
Nick sighed and walked on.
“Are you determined to be alone, or might I join you, Your Grace?”
Faith called from only a few feet behind him.
He must be losing his training for her to have sneaked up behind him
without notice. “Is there something you wanted, Lady Faith?”
She stepped closer. Several curls had freed themselves of her elaborate
coif and called out to Nick to touch them. “It is a lovely garden.” She
glanced around and smiled.
“Yes. Geb has taken bits from all his travels and placed them in his
home and this garden. I think it brings him comfort.”
Faith’s golden eyes filled with sorrow. “Do you think Mr. Arafa is
lonely here in England?”
“It is never easy to live amongst a people not your own.” Nick considered
all the time he’d spent in France, Spain, and Portugal and how much he’d
missed the rainy days in England and people who understood his humor.
“The Wallflowers are very fond of Mr. Arafa. We have not entertained
much, but I will see that he is added to our invitation list. Perhaps a circle
of good friends will make him feel more at home.” She’d placed her index
finger on her chin while she considered how best to help Geb.
Adorable.
He needed to be free of this woman. “You didn’t say what it was you
wanted, Lady Faith.”
Frowning, she walked forward and down the path. “Must I have a reason
to walk in the garden with my fiancé?”
Leaving her to her own devices and returning to the house flitted through
his mind, but it would cause gossip and he was curious about her reason for
seeking him out. “We are hardly the perfect picture of an engaged couple.”
“No. That is true. I wanted to apologize for any undue strain I may
have caused you by trying to find out what kind of character you have.”
“Is that your apology, or shall I wait for more?” he said when she
didn’t elaborate.
She stopped and puffed up her chest. Her cheeks were red and fire
flashed in her eyes. “Why must you be so difficult? Even when I’m trying
to be nice, you find fault. The entire situation was mostly your doing. If
you had been open and honest, that would have been an end to our query
and none of the rest would have been necessary.”
Even more beautiful when she was in a temper, he longed to pull her
into his arms and taste those alluring lips. He was certain just one tug
would topple all those curls from the pins that held her hair in place and
he could find out if they were as soft as they appeared. It was maddening.
“I hardly see how it was my fault. You and your friends spied on me and
involved Geb, which is unforgivable.”
As soft and lovely as she was, a hard edge caught in her voice. “I
suppose, then, you will not accept my apology. I see. Well, in that case,
I’ll leave you to your solitude.” She turned to walk away and stopped, eyes
narrowed into the darkness beyond the gardens, which were surrounded
by tall evergreens.
Following her gaze, Nick saw nothing, though the hair on the back of
his neck rose. “What is it?”
“I felt eyes on me, as if someone was watching.” She shivered and
continued straining to see in the shadows.
“I’m sure you are imagining things.” He dismissed her worry.
That hateful glance fell on him before she plastered false serenity on
her face. “Perhaps.”
He preferred the disdain to the untruthful agreement. Why he should
care when he wanted nothing to do with her, he didn’t know. “Shall I escort
you back inside, Lady Faith?”
“You are too kind, Your Grace, but I can manage the journey on my
own.” With a curt nod, she stormed away from him toward the house.
16 A.S. Fenichel
Unable to look away, he admired the gentle sway of her hips until she
climbed the veranda steps and went inside. Lord, how he longed to hold
those hips and slide his hands up to that slim waist, and so much more.
He shook away the wayward thoughts before he embarrassed himself
with his desires.
One thing was certain, Faith Landon would be his undoing.
A.S. Fenichel gave up a successful career in New York City to follow her husband to Texas and pursue her lifelong dream of being a professional writer. She’s never looked back.
A.S. adores writing stories filled with love, passion, desire, magic and maybe a little mayhem tossed in for good measure. Books have always been her perfect escape and she still relishes diving into one and staying up all night to finish a good story.
Multi-published in historical, paranormal, erotic and contemporary romance, A.S. is the author of the several series, including Forever Brides, Everton Domestic Society, Wallflowers of West Lane and more. Strong, empowered heroines from Regency London to modern-day New Orleans are what really excites A.S., and that’s what you’ll find in all her books.
A Jersey Girl at heart, she now makes her home in Southern Missouri with her real-life hero, her wonderful husband. When not reading or writing, she enjoys cooking, travel, history, puttering in her garden and spoiling her fussy cat.
Website: http://asfenichel.com
Blog: http://asfenichel.com/blog
Twitter: http://twitter.com/asfenichel
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