Amanda StoNeS
Historical Regency Romance Author
Marrying the Icy
Scarred Duke
First Chapters
Prologue
Several years ago…
The stench from the alleyways lining Whitechapel street flooded James’s nostrils as he pulled his boater hat down over his eyes. He might not have been a stranger to the dark corners of London where vices thrived and temptations abounded, but that also meant he was aware that he might find himself in danger if he made a wrong move.
If his parents, the Duke and Duchess of Rutherford, knew that he was recklessly stealing along the streets, seeking solace from his strict and well controlled upbringing, they would have a turn. But luckily for James, they had not yet discovered his late nights and high stakes games, so his secret was safe. He intended to keep it that way.
Not that his poor mother would be able to do much to stop him. She might have been fierce and over protective in her love for him once upon a time, but the prolonged illness that had been troubling her for years, now kept her trapped in her bed chambers, barely able to move a muscle, much less get any words out…
James quickly shook off the thoughts of his beloved mother. He could not succumb to the helplessness he felt around her pain now, it would only fuel his self-destructive tendencies. James certainly did not need any help in that department. He had always been quite capable of getting himself into trouble from a very young age, and he did not see that changing any time soon. Not when trouble called out to him, and it was always so much fun.
A small light emanated from one of the seedier alleyways, pulling him towards the tavern as if he had no control over his own two feet. His craving for the thrill of a gamble always overshadowed everything else in his life. Especially because it was an activity just for him. No one else knew about it, least of all his father, who would not hesitate to administer a severe thrashing. That was something James assumed might come to an end when he hit eighteen years of age, and officially became an adult, but he was truly very wrong about that.
With his eyes still fixed on the floor, James lightly pushed open the tavern door, allowing the warm sense of relief to flow through him as the door let out its all too familiar creak. Here, where he did not have endless responsibilities weighing down on him, James could truly feel at home. He could be himself here, even if he did not use his true name.
“Good evening, Gray,” called out the overly familiar bar wench, Marie, as soon as she caught sight of him. James only had to lift his eyes a little to see the knowing glint in her eyes. But if she did have any idea that he was not who he presented himself to be, she said nothing. “I suppose you will be wanting the usual?”
James nodded sharply and took a seat on the stool nearest to the bar. The room was small, and the bar low just like the ceilings, which often gave it a closed in feel. That combined with the smell of ale that often got spilled on the floor in drunken conversations and bar fights, meant it was not a place that many people would enjoy.
But James was not like many people. He never had been.
“Have you seen who is here tonight?” Marie said in a hushed tone as she passed James his drink. “Mr. Hinkley. I hear he has money to burn, all he wants is the right opponent.”
Understanding the twinkle in her eyes, anticipation surged through James’s veins. He had never had the chance to play against Mr. Hinkley, but the man had a reputation for being one of the fiercest card players around. To beat him would truly elevate ‘Gray’s’ status in the gambling world, and would allow James to head home with the sweet taste of victory playing on his lips. Sometimes, winning was not enough, but against this man, it would be.
“He is sitting in the corner over there.” Marie pointed him in the right direction. “I should think that he would consider himself very lucky to play against you.”
Without even giving himself a chance to think about it, James grabbed his drink and crossed the bar to come face to face with this man. Immediately, he was struck with how intimidating this man looked. With a crooked smile, few teeth remaining, and a scar above his deep dark brown eyes, James had to remind himself not to show fear, even if he felt it.
“Gray,” he declared while sticking out his hand for the man to shake. “Good to meet you.”
“Hmm, yes.” The man studied his hand for a moment, before he shook it. “I have heard a lot about you, Gray. It is good to finally meet you. I will make an assumption here, and predict that you would like to join me for a game. Am I right?”
There did not seem to be any need for politeness or beating around the bush with this man. James respected that, the quicker they could get down to playing, the faster he could win. And James was always confident that he could win, even if that did not end up being the case. He could not understand why a gentleman would join a game, without having that confidence that he would be the one leaving the bar with the prize money.
Little did he know that this game with Mr. Hinkley was not going to be like any other. Perhaps he would not have been so keen to sit beside him, and to put his money on the table, if he had known that this night would be one that he would never forget, and for all the wrong reasons. This card game would be one which changed his life forever…
***
An intense overwhelming heat burned in James’s cheeks as he jumped to his feet, knocking a few of the empty ale glasses off the table.
“You are rigging the games,” he cried out in a drunken temper. “I have noticed something all evening long, I knew things were not quite right, and now I know…”
Mr. Hinkley smirked as he slid James’s money off the table and into his pocket. “Now, now, Gray,” he declared in a patronizing tone of voice. “No one likes a sore loser.”
James’s fists curled up by his side as the steam of rage built up within him. He had lost a number of games over the years, that was the nature of gambling. Losing was never the issue, it was being cheated that he did not like. There was supposed to be an honour among gamblers, and Mr. Hinkley had betrayed him terribly. In the worst possible way, in fact.
“That is not what is happening here, and you know it,” he growled back, noting how his anger only seemed to please Mr. Hinkley. What on earth was wrong with this man? “You have rigged the games, so it was never fair. I want my money returned to me.”
That comment caused all the mirth to fall away from Mr. Hinkley’s face. His expression slid into something much darker, a terrifying side of him that James had not seen before.
“That is not how this game works, which I am sure is something of which you are very aware, Gray. Once money has been lost in one of these high stakes games, it can not be returned. It is terribly offensive that you would even suggest such a thing.”
James could only see red. How dare this man cheat and betray him, then go on to lie to him. It was not right, and not something that James could stand for.
“These games are to be played fairly, and that is not something you have done. Would you like your reputation in this town to be tarnished, simply because you chose to try and fool the wrong person?” James was trembling with anger; he had never felt anything like it before. “I am sure this is something you do regularly, but you will not play those games with me. I simply can not stand for it. I suggest you give my money back right away.”
James was not sure what reaction his words would elicit, but he had to admit that he was certainly not expecting Mr. Hinkley to toss his head back and let out a belly laugh, completely dismissing everything that he had just said. James would not be treated as a joke.
“You will return my money,” he cried out, pure venom lacing every single word. “You shall not do this to me. This is not how the games are played, that is not what we do.”
Since the words did not seem to be working, there was only one more thing that James could do. The only way he could force a stubborn man like this to listen to him.
James lurched across the table, and in an attempt to tear his own money out of Mr. Hinkley’s pocket, he knocked the man – who had definitely had too many to drink at that moment – backwards. He crashed into a set of tables behind him, disturbing other patrons.
The bar fell silent for a moment. It seemed like every single man within the bar was sizing one another up, trying to gauge what the next move would be. James’s heart was thundering so hard against his rib cage that he feared it might burst free at any given moment. But that did not prevent the intense need for justice from coursing through him.
This was his money, and the game had not been fair. In James’s mind, that equated to stealing, and he was not going to allow another man to take from him. That was not fair.
But it was Mr. Hinkley who shifted the atmosphere once more. It appeared that he did not intend to back down either, and soon the fury of both men escalated into a full on, chaotic bar brawl. James caught sight of Marie ducking down to hide behind the bar, to avoid getting hurt in the midst of it all. That was probably for the best, there was nothing she could do.
“That is my money,” James yelled as loudly as he could, determined to be heard over everyone else as he charged back at Mr. Hinkley. “You can not cheat me out of it.”
Fists flew, legs kicked, furniture was smashed in the process. But it was not until James caught sight of something metal in Mr. Hinkley’s hand, that he realized how bad of a turn things had taken. He had been knocked to the floor, and now that blade was coming towards him far too quickly for him to react. James could sense the danger, but he was frozen…
“Argh!” That was, until he let out a howl of agony as the blade connected with his skin, bursting it apart, causing an explosion of blood to erupt from his face.
It was never supposed to be like this, this was supposed to be a night of fun, not one that ended in a fight… and certainly not one that would leave James with a jagged scar splayed right across his face for all to see. One that would be completely unable to hide no matter how much he tried. It would always be there, haunting him.
James would never be able to distance himself from this life now, not with the cruel reminder written across him. No matter what he tried, he was always going to be reminded that men like Mr. Hinkley could not only cheat and lie their way through life, but that anyone who challenged that sort of person would end up permanently scarred at best.
Chapter One
The Argyle Rooms had been decorated perfectly for the Spring time festivities, kicking off the Season in a wonderful way. Everyone was dressed up lovely as well, this crowded ball room was filled with some of the finest gowns and suits that Charlotte had ever seen.
This was her second Season, but somehow this one seemed much more vibrant and thrilling. She could feel a strange sense of anticipation, like this was going to be her year. Even as she stood in the corner of the room, watching the other couples twirl and dance around her while she had no one, Charlotte was not worried. Her time would come.
A smile spread across Charlotte’s face as she caught sight of her cousin and best friend, Elizabeth, who was looking positively radiant as she laughed tenderly, sharing a loving moment with her husband. Thomas. They really were picture perfect, the sort of love story that Charlotte could only dream of for herself. Seeing them stare at one another with adoration in their eyes made Charlotte yearn for that kind of love for herself. She wanted a man like that to look at her as if she were the only woman alive. As if she were a goddess…
It was only the sight of her stepfather, George Wellington, the Viscount Wellingham, which made the beaming smile fall away from Charlotte’s lips. He was a stark reminder of why she needed to find a love match for herself this Season. She could not continue to live under his roof, dealing with his cruel and controlling ways any longer. He was a beastly man, the sort she would never make a mistake of making herself. When she picked her husband, he would be loving and caring, sweet to her all the time. He would never raise his voice at her at any time.
Charlotte was not old enough to remember her biological father. He passed away when she was just a small child, so George was the only adult male she’d had in her life, and he was dreadful. Charlotte could only hope that her father was a good man who loved her mother and treated her well, so that she at least had some years of joy before the horror that came her way.
Charlotte had to turn away from her step father before the sneer of derision totally spread across her face. No fine gentleman in this ball would ask her to dance if she continued to look unpleasant and angry. She would have to deal with her upset later on.
At least there were a few handsome gentlemen that she had laid her eyes on, who came from very good families. Dukes and Lords, men who could give her a very good life if they chose her as their bride to be. Unfortunately, as it was, her dance card remained empty. Charlotte knew that hiding away in the corner was not going to help her, but she was not brave enough to move and mingle. Not while the music was still playing…
However, Charlotte was not given a chance to take a walk around the room, even after the music came to an end. Before the next dance began, the worst man in the room approached her, and he was not alone. George had a very smug smile on his face as he introduced Charlotte to whoever his new friend was, the man standing beside him.
“This is the Earl of Westwood,” George announced in a bright, patronizing tone of voice. “And this right here is my step daughter, Miss Charlotte Ainsworth.”
Richard Fleming, the Earl of Westwood, bowed down to Charlotte, so she remained polite and curtsied in return. She did not know what this was all about, but she was utterly unnerved. Perhaps because everything her stepfather did made her unpleasantly anxious.
“Miss Ainsworth, it is an honour to meet you,” he declared in a low tone. “I would love to have the honour of the next dance set with you.”
Charlotte’s insides recoiled with horror. She might not have ever met the Earl of Westwood officially before, but that did not mean she was unaware of his reputation. The older, very wealthy businessman was in the middle of a desperate search for a bride. He had spent his youth gambling and drinking, and spending his night times with courtesans if rumors were to be believed, so now he wanted someone to produce an heir for him.
That was not the love story that Charlotte wanted for herself.
Unfortunately, it would be rude to refuse a dance with the Earl, even if she did not wish to. There was no way that Charlotte wanted to cause a scene. Particularly not in front of her stepfather who would look for any excuse to berate her and make her life miserable.
“Of course,” she replied through gritted teeth, trying her hardest to keep her seething ball of emotion locked away deep within the pit of her stomach. “I… I would be honoured.”
Richard eagerly took Charlotte’s hand and took her on to the dance floor, right in the middle so everyone could see them. Perhaps it was not so bad being hidden away in the corner after all. At least she did not feel quite so exposed there.
But she did not cause a fuss, she could not, as he placed his hands on her body, ready to move in time to the music. Charlotte did what was expected of her, but she did not like it one bit. Especially because the Earl would not stop looking at her. The stare he was giving her felt so intense, she could hardly breathe under the intensity of it.
She almost wished that she could start a conversation with him as they danced, but what would she say? She could not exactly ask him if the rumors about him were true, and that he had never lost a gambling match in his life. She could not ask him what his real intentions with a bride were. None of that would be considered polite.
So instead, much as it pained her to do so, she said nothing. Charlotte danced the set with the Earl, trying her hardest to avoid his stare without being indiscreet about it, the whole time. He wanted something from her, she could feel it, but it was not something that Charlotte wished to give him. One dance was just about all she could do… even if it felt like this moment was lasting forever. Why was she not lucky enough to have a dance request from a man who would actually make her feel good about herself, and excited too? This was a nightmare.
Thank goodness, the music eventually came to an end after what felt like a lifetime. It took every ounce of strength that Charlotte had not to run off the dance floor, to get as far away from this man as possible. But she had been raised well, taught to be sweet and polite to everyone. Particularly fellow members of the ton such as an earl.
She curtsied and thanked Lord Westwood, before briskly walking away from him, relieved that it was all over and done with. With a bit of luck, Charlotte would not have to encounter him again throughout the Season. He was not her knight in shining armor, coming to rescue her from her current life, and that was the man Charlotte was destined to find this year, she just knew it.
***
Charlotte was not sure why she felt quite as nervous as she did as she descended the stairs to join her family for breakfast, but she had a strange gut feeling that something bad was going to happen, and that she would not enjoy herself this morning.
That might be troubling, if she did not often wake up with this feeling. Living with George really was like walking on eggshells. If she ever stepped too hard, she might set him off. After the long night they’d all had the previous night at the ball, no one wanted drama.
“Good morning, darling,” Lady Lucille Wellingham declared at the sight of her daughter, coming in for food. “Come and sit. We have a lovely spread this morning.”
Charlotte moved a little more eagerly when she spotted her half sister, Isabel, smiling at her. Isabel was the one good thing to come from her mother’s new marriage. She was a sweet natured girl who made living in this home a little more bearable.
Charlotte sat beside her, wishing they were allowed to talk more freely with one another over the food table. But under George’s watchful eye, they found it so much easier not to say a word. But the silence was understanding, they both knew why it had to be that way.
“There she is.” George had a rare smile on his face, which was almost as unnerving as his frowns like he lived under a thunder cloud. “Miss Charlotte Ainsworth.” Charlotte could feel him teasing her, but she was not sure why. She could never quite tell what his words meant. “How was your night last night? Did you enjoy the dance you shared with the Earl of Westwood? It looked like you had a lovely connection with him.”
A vice-like grip clamped down on Charlotte’s chest. What was George getting at? What did he mean? There was absolutely no connection between herself and Lord Westwood. She felt nothing but horror and disgust around him. She did not even utter one word to him.
But her mother was also smiling at her as if this was good news. George must have gotten to her, talked to her and convinced her that this was good news, despite all the rumors that were surrounding the earl. If Charlotte had heard them, then surely her parents had too.
“It was… a very nice dance,” Charlotte finally forced herself to respond in a very clipped, stilted tone of voice. She wanted to remain polite, and to keep the good mood circling the table, but she hated lying. “The whole evening was a very pleasant one.”
She caught Isabel’s eyes, and saw that at least her sister understood what she was trying to say underneath her words, even if no one else did.
“That is wonderful news.” George clapped his hands together gleefully, just once but it was enough to have the hairs on the back of Charlotte’s neck standing on edge. “I am glad to hear that you had a great time with the earl. That is good news indeed,”
Why was that such good news? What on earth was George planning? That man was never happy unless he had a scheme he was working on. Charlotte did not like how nervous this made her, she could not help but fear for her future.
She tried to look pleadingly at her mother, to put a stop to this before George did anything to ruin her life, but Lucille would not meet her eyes. It was as if her mother knew that things were already in motion, and there was nothing that she could do to stop it. Nor was she willing to try because she was so anxious around her husband, and did not like to disobey him ever, even when he was clearly in the wrong.
I will not marry that brute, Charlotte thought angrily to herself. He can not make me do it. I want a love story, I want what Elizabeth has.
The last thing she wished for was to be used purely for breeding, so some arrogant man could have the heir he felt like he deserved. It was not fair. Not when she had spent her young life brooding over romance novels and wanting that sort of life for herself. That certainly did not involve the Earl. She would get out of it somehow, if it was the last thing she did.
Chapter Two
James could not believe what he was reading as he brooded in his study, trying to absorb the contents of his father’s will. But it did not matter how many times he read and reread the words, he could not force them to make any sense.
He glanced up at Mr. Spencer, his father’s solicitor, trying to find answers there but he was not getting anything. The man’s serious expression remained etched across his face, as if he could not quite believe what had been asked of James either.
“This can not be my father’s words,” he just about managed to rasp out. “I do not believe it. How can this be? This sudden, unexpected bequest does not make sense.”
“They are very much your father’s words,” he replied gravely, letting James know that of course this was not a shock to him. He must have been there when the words were written down. “He was quite adamant that this be included in his final wishes.”
James shook his head hard. “But why would Father ask this of me? Why would he insist that I find myself a bride within six months or I lose my inheritance?”
This had to be a cruel prank. His father was trying to torture him even now, from the grave. James could not imagine anything more challenging being asked of him.
“Are you sure there is no way to overcome this clause, Mr. Spencer?” he checked.
But Mr. Spencer could only shake his head slowly. “I am very sorry to tell you this, but the will is legally binding. Everything within it is bound by the law, your father went to great lengths to ensure that this would stand no matter what.”
James’s heart sank. Without this inheritance, he was not sure how he would go on to live his life. He did not think it possible to do so. Perhaps that was what his father wanted, for him to end up destitute and struggling forever more as a final blow. A way to make him pay for all the trouble he had caused his father when he was young and always a little reckless.
But that had all changed years ago, on the night he obtained the scar that would remain with him for the rest of his life. He had not snuck out to cause trouble ever again. In fact, he had hardly left the house at all, only when he had no choice in the matter. He had hidden himself from the rest of the world and remained at home, under the difficulties of his father’s care.
Yet still his father wanted to punish him in the worst possible way.
“How am I supposed to make this happen?” he asked Mr. Spencer desperately. “I do not understand what I am supposed to do.”
The solicitor had no answers for him, just as James had no answers for himself. This was going to be impossible, a challenge like no other. How would anyone want to marry him when he looked like he did? No one would accept the scar. No one…
***
In his distress and confusion about his father’s will, James had almost forgotten that his close friend, Lord Lucas Hamilton, was due to visit for a game of billiards. While James had retreated from social life in London, he had still managed to maintain some of his closest friends, and Lucas was one of them.
James hoped that the game would help to lift his spirits, but he was struggling to even make conversation with his friend. Of course he was happy to hear that Lucas was expecting his first child with his wife, Lady Sophia Hamilton, but considering he now had to find a wife of his own, any mention of romance only put more pressure on his shoulders.
“What is troubling you, James?” Lucas suddenly asked him. “I have noticed that you are not quite yourself today. What is on your mind? Pray, speak a word.”
James considered not saying a word, because he was not sure if he wanted to ruin the game of billiards with his problems. But at the same time, he worried that if he said nothing he might burst with the information. With a bit of luck, Lucas might even have some advice for him.
“It is my father,” he replied dejectedly. “And the insanity of his will.”
Lucas turned to face James seriously. “What has happened?”
With his heart sinking even further, James went on to explain. “He added a bequest towards the end of his life, a way to punish me from beyond the grave. A way to make me feel even worse than I already do. It is truly terrible.” He shook his head sadly before he continued. “He has insisted that I marry within six months, or I lose my inheritance completely.”
James could not stop his mind drifting off into the unhappy memories of his youth, the way that he was always trying to please his father to make him proud. He always wanted the man’s approval, but never got it. He was always met with resistance and arguments.
Such as the night he obtained the scar that ruined his life. Scarred and ensured that he had been shunned from society ever since. Anger built up in James as he thought about that night in particular, because it had been one of the worst of his entire life…
“You do not need to talk to me about your mother’s ailing health,” his father had yelled at him as young James tried to suggest that they try a new doctor. “You do not know anything about the world, James. You are a young and foolish man who has no life experience. I do not want you to try and change what I am doing here. I know what is right.”
In his youthful and obstinate manner, James was not inclined to endure his father’s berating about his mother in the same manner as he might have done previously.
“Father, what you are doing is not working. The care you have in place is not enough, it is not making mother any better. You can see that it is having no effect…”
His father reared back, almost as if he was about to incite violence because he was so determined not to listen to his son. James believed that his father was simply being stubborn, and that there was no need to ignore him at all. Especially when he was right. He stood a little taller, refusing to back down, even if his father was about to harm him physically, simply for having an opinion and trying to care for his mother.
“Stay out of my business. Keep out of your mother’s business,” he finally spat out, letting his fists fall. “We have the best care in place for your mother and that will not be changing. I do not want to hear anything that you have to say. You are nothing more than a fool. An idiot who no one will ever want to listen to. I can not believe that you have even come to me, to speak to me about this. Who on earth do you think you are?”
Sensing that he was never going to get anywhere, because he never did get anywhere with his father, James had stormed out of the house and made the snap decision to search for his favorite bar to play some high stakes games, before everything escalated, and he got injured.
When he returned home after the accident, his father did not even care. He simply sneered at him like he was the biggest disappointment ever, fracturing their relationship even more forever. His father did not even let him know that his mother had passed away throughout the night. That was something that James had to find out for himself by walking in on her body.
The image of his mother dead in the bed had haunted him ever since. It was another trauma that was attached to the scar splayed right across his face.
“Does that mean you will be returning to society?” Lucas asked him, interrupting James from his spiraling thoughts. “In order to look for a bride?”
A tight knot of nerves clamped down on James’s chest. How on earth could he return to society knowing that he had been shunned? Knowing that no one would want him? It had been a very long time since he had experienced the terror of all eyes upon him, and the idea of it now sent an ice cold shudder tearing down his spine.
“I do not know,” James admitted. “I suppose my father has left me no choice.”
Lucas cocked his head to one side, smiling at him understandingly. “Well, you know that you still have a lot of friends in the ton. It shall not be as bad as you are imagining.”
That was easy for Lucas to say. He was so very handsome, many ladies wanted to court him before he finally fell in love with Sophia. He was not a man with disfigurement which would likely put any woman off him. Who would want to be stuck married to a beast like him?
“I am just concerned that this is a clause I will not be able to fulfill,” he confessed to Lucas. “And I am sure my father knew that. He wanted me to lose it all.”
“Do you really believe your father would do such a thing?” Lucas asked, innocently enough. “Do you truly think your father does not want what is best for you?”
James laughed mirthlessly. “My father has never cared about that. He did not care for me.”
How could a father call his own son a fool, and then care about him? How could he be so cruel as to not tell him that his mother had passed away, leaving him to discover the body for himself, knowing that it would truly break him? Society might have rejected him because of the jagged scar, but no one had been so cruel to him as his father.
No, there was no way that his father wanted what was best for him.
“It makes me a little determined though,” James chuckled once more as that stubbornness he had tried to suppress ever since that night, came surging back through him. “Simply to prove him wrong. I want to show him that he can not ruin me, even from beyond the grave.”
Lucas grinned from ear to ear. “Splendid! That is the right attitude to have. You can do this. Prove your father wrong and gain your rightful inheritance. Show him that you are far more worthwhile than he ever gave you credit for.”
James really tried to get caught up in the positivity that himself and Lucas were stating aloud, but there was always that little negative voice in the back of his brain, reminding him that it did not matter how determined he was, that was not about to make any woman want to be his bride. What could he offer? A title, and a grand home – as long as they got married within the next few months – but would that be enough?
“We will find the right event for you to unveil yourself once more,” Lucas continued, not noticing James’s inner turmoil at all. “People will be very thrilled to have you back in society. I am sure that we will be able to find you a bride easily. Me and your friends will of course help you as much as we can.”
James tried to smile as he joined back in with the game of billiards, but his nerves were shaken. He did not know if this would go as well as Lucas was suggesting, but he certainly hoped so. If he could prove his father wrong, then that would be the ultimate revenge…
This Post Has 2 Comments
Sounds great can’t wait to read more.
It’s so good!! I can’t wait to read the rest of the story!!