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  A DEAL WITH A DUKE

  The Daring Drake Sisters, Book 2

  Christie Kelley

  A DEAL WITH A DUKE

  Published by Christie Kelley

  Copyright © 2019 by Christie Kelley

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereinafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  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.

  Edited by Peter Senftleben

  Cover Design by Kim Killion

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  OTHER BOOKS BY CHRISTIE KELLEY

  Prologue | Kent 1814

  Chapter 1 | Northumbria 1819

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Epilogue | Christmas 1820

  Christie loves to hear from her readers.

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  Also By Christie Kelley

  To my patient readers,

  Thank you for understanding the delay in getting this book published. Some books are easy to write, and some books are not. This book was not an easy book to write.

  The first draft came out quickly, until I remembered King George III died in January 1820. Then I realized that at least the first third of the book would not work because the country was in mourning. I had to rewrite most of the book to make it work with history. Hopefully, it is a better story for it.

  To Peter,

  Thanks for you're patient edits and boosting my fragile writer confidence. You're the best!

  OTHER BOOKS BY CHRISTIE KELLEY

  The Daring Drake Sisters Series

  The Cursed Countess

  The Wise Woman Series

  Bewitching the Duke

  Enticing the Earl

  Vexing the Viscount

  The Spinster Club Series

  Every Night I’m Yours

  Every Time We Kiss

  Something Scandalous

  Scandal of the Season

  One Night Scandal

  Prologue

  Kent 1814

  “HASTEN YOUR STEP, HARRY, before someone discovers us,” Louisa Drake said with a giggle.

  Harry, Marquess of Langport, smiled as he trailed the chestnut-haired beauty. Walking into Lord Huntley’s study, he locked the door, giving them privacy as the rest of the party played along with Lady Huntley’s treasure hunt. While ladies and gentlemen were not encouraged to work together, many of the guests had joined up to win the unknown prize.

  Thankfully, Louisa had been standing near him when the announcement of the treasure hunt was made, allowing him to claim her before any unmarried ladies tried to accompany him. Lady Huntley’s country parties were typically strictly orchestrated, but after days of rain, she seemed to be running out of ideas to entertain everyone.

  “Did you lock us in?” Louisa asked, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

  “I did.”

  “You are terribly wicked, Harry.”

  “Thank you.”

  “And now we are finally alone,” Louisa said with a sigh as she collapsed onto the sofa. “It has been far too long.”

  Harry walked to the corner table where decanters sat, waiting for the attention they deserved. He picked one and lifted the top, only to determine it was port—not a favorite of either of them. The next bottle was precisely what he was looking for. With one whiff, his nose filled with various scents from figs to spicy vanilla.

  “Stop smelling and pour.”

  Glancing back, he smiled. Louisa lounged with her feet stretched across the pale green sofa as if she lived here. His heart pounded. He wanted to see her in that exact position on his sofa in Northwood Park. After pouring two snifters of brandy, he handed her a glass and then lifted her lower limbs to sit on the opposite end of the sofa with her. Lowering her feet to his lap, he released a long sigh.

  “Harry, you are a rascal.” She tried to move into a more lady-like position, but he held her ankles in place.

  “Yes, I am. Don’t forget wicked.” His thumb rubbed against the delicate bone of her stocking-covered ankle. No one need tell him how inappropriate it was to have his hand on her limbs, but he’d tried so many times to make her understand how he felt. Perhaps this would help her see him as something other than a friend.

  “Did you read the article I slipped under your door?”

  Harry smiled down into his brandy. “Yes, I did. Not the usual type of note I receive from a lady.”

  A low giggle erupted from her. “I don’t believe I want to know what kind of missives you normally receive under your bedchamber door. But wasn’t the article fascinating? The military believes they will have this little war with the United States over in no time at all now that we have finished with Napoleon.”

  “It would be lovely to be at peace for a while,” Harry responded, wishing she had asked him more about the letters he normally received from ladies. If only to spark a bit of jealousy in her. But that wasn’t what she wanted from him. “I heard they have forces heading toward Washington and the fleet up the Chesapeake toward Baltimore.”

  “The capital? Oh, my,” she replied before sipping her brandy.

  Harry wondered, not for the first time, how she always steered the conversation toward some news of the day or invention. He wanted to discuss something far more serious than wars and innovations. “I happened to notice you dancing with Blakely last night.”

  Her giggle raised gooseflesh on his arms.

  “I did. I will give you threes guesses what he spoke of most of the dance.”

  “Having never danced with Blakely, I cannot fathom a guess.”

  Louisa laughed as she shook her head. “Horses.” She sipped her brandy. “It is all he ever speaks of with me.”

  “Hmm.” While Louisa could ride a horse tolerably well, she had no real interest in the animals. “Does that mean, should he ever get the idea to propose, you would reject him?”

  She sipped her brandy again before replying, “Of course I would. Could you imagine me as Viscountess Blakely?”

  “No, you might even have to give up drinking brandy.”

  “Exactly.” She drained her snifter and held it out to him. “Think of what a hardship that would be for me.”

  He shifted her limbs off his lap and rose to refill her glass. Hearing footsteps outside the door, he put a finger up to his lips.

  The door rattled as a disembodied voice said, “Lord Huntley must not wish anyone to enter his study. Come along, Lady Langley.”

  Once the footsteps moved away, Louisa brows furrowed. “I think that was my sister and Lord Dereham. Thank God, she didn’t find us in here a
lone.”

  “Oh yes, that would be dreadful indeed,” he said sardonically. After pouring her another brandy, he returned to his seat.

  Louisa had shifted her slender legs under her as if to avoid his touch again. She reached for the brandy he held out to her. “I am far too young to marry anyone.”

  At nineteen, she was the exact age most men wanted for a wife. Young enough to mold to their likes. Not that Louisa would ever conform to anyone or anything. It was her indomitable spirit that drew him to her. She would never let a man control her completely.

  “I suppose we both are a bit young for marriage,” he mused.

  “Of course you are, Harry. No man should marry before...” she paused, tapping her finger against her lips. “Thirty.”

  “Thirty?” That was almost six years from now. It seemed like a lifetime from the present. “And what is the appropriate age for a lady to marry?”

  “For most ladies or me? There is a vast difference.” She giggled again as she tended to when drinking.

  His thumb caressed her ankle again. “For you, then.”

  “Hmm. At least twenty-three, maybe twenty-four.”

  “Why so late? You would be considered a spinster by then.”

  Someone else shook the door handle, silencing them. “I heard a voice in there,” a lady said softly. “A man’s voice.”

  “Come along, Clarissa,” a man urged the woman. “If the door is locked, we are not wanted in there.”

  Harry shook his head while Louisa cocked hers.

  “Who was that?” she whispered with a grin.

  “Sutcliff.”

  “Ainsley’s younger son? And Clarissa Carter?” She pressed her lips together as if suppressing another giggle, but it finally escaped. “Her father will never tolerate that match. He expects a title for his precious daughter and not a second son with no prospects.”

  “You are right.” But Harry doubted his friend would listen to reason with Miss Carter. Finishing his first brandy, he noticed she’d already emptied her second snifter. It wasn’t that unusual for her to drink two glasses, but rarely this early in the afternoon and never so quickly. “What is wrong, Louisa?”

  She shrugged as she stared at the bottom of her empty snifter, twisting the glass in her hand. Rising, she snatched his snifter before moving to the corner cabinet. “My mother believes Tessa should accept Dereham.”

  “And you’re not happy about that.”

  “No,” she replied, returning to her seat. She curled her legs under her again. “There is no need for her to marry so soon. It’s only been a year since Langley passed. Tessa should be able to enjoy the benefits of widowhood before tying herself down with another man.”

  “It is up to her, is it not?” he asked, noticing how quickly she had already taken two sips of the brandy. Clearly, the idea of her sister marrying another older man affected her.

  “Your father is encouraging the match.”

  “Why would my father help Tessa find another husband?”

  She shrugged. “I can only guess Mamma asked him for assistance in the matter. He did help with Langley. But Tessa deserves some happiness after her previous marriage. Langley was thirty years her senior.”

  “What would you have me do?”

  Her blue eyes beseeched with him. “Speak to your father. Tell him Tessa deserves a better man than Dereham...a younger man. Mamma listens to him. She respects his opinions...she always has.”

  He supposed he could do that. In truth, his father would not care for his opinion on the matter. Mrs. Drake wanted a good match or rather a wealthy match. If not Tessa, then Mrs. Drake would insist Louisa make a good match. His stomach clenched with the idea of her marrying anyone. But perhaps that was what should happen.

  “There is another option,” he started slowly, praying she’d had enough brandy to accept him without overthinking the idea as she usually did everything.

  “Oh?” Her brows furrowed in thought. “I’ve spent hours thinking of an acceptable solution.”

  “Me.”

  “You?” Her blue eyes widened. “You want to marry Tessa?”

  “No.” He drained his brandy for the strength needed to propose. “We could marry. Our marriage would keep Tessa from having to wed Dereham.”

  She stared over at him. Her eyes were wide with surprise as shock etched her face. “You think we should marry? Have you lost your mind?”

  “Always a possibility.” His heart sank. There had to be a way to convince her that they would suit.

  “I doubt our union would help Tessa,” she continued. “Mamma wants all her girls wed and out of the house. Besides, you’re a rake. Not that most would deny your right to sow your oats while you are young, but there is no guarantee you will reform when the time is right.”

  “And that time, according to you, is thirty.”

  She rose to pace the room. “Yes. At least.” She turned and faced him. “Besides, I am far too young to marry.”

  And yet, she hadn’t completely dismissed the idea. Her only apparent objection focused on their age. “You are correct on our youth. However, I believe our friendship would make a marriage most tolerable, don’t you?”

  Her dark brows furrowed in contemplation. “Perhaps. But we do not love each other the way a husband and wife should.”

  Don’t we? “We would come to love each other in that manner, Louisa.”

  She scowled at him. “There is no guarantee of that. My parents thought they loved each other, but my mother certainly did not properly love my father.”

  “I never took you as the romantic sort, Louisa.”

  She turned away but not before he noticed the blush staining her cheeks. “I have no romantic tendencies, Harry. But when I wed, I want to be certain the man I marry won’t keep a mistress.”

  “And you think I would?” Anger lined his voice.

  “Don’t be annoyed. You are young still. I doubt you’re ready to settle down with a wife and children.”

  So, they were back to their ages. Louisa wanted him to mature. And perhaps she was right. The difficulty would be to keep her from forming an attachment during that time. “Well, I believe I have a solution.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.” He walked to Lord Huntley’s desk and then pulled out a piece of paper. “You say our main impediment is our age. But what if we do not find another person to marry? You don’t want to marry for another four to five years. By then, many men will consider you too old, or believe something is wrong with you for not marrying. And there is always the chance that your mother will attempt to match you as she has Tessa.”

  Her face drew pallid. “I hadn’t thought of that. But I would never allow such a thing.”

  “Your mother can be most persuasive.” He waited for her nod of acknowledgment before continuing, “I say we make a deal.”

  “A deal?” she asked, stepping closer to the desk to see what he was writing.

  “Yes.”

  “What sort of deal?”

  “If you are still unmarried by the time you are...twenty-five and I’m unmarried by thirty, we marry each other.”

  She laughed. “You cannot be serious, Harry.”

  He laughed to make her think he was not serious. “But of course I am,” he added with another laugh. “Do you agree?”

  He signed the piece of paper and then handed the quill to her. Seeing her hesitation, he added, “You can use this as an engagement contract if you feel you are being forced to marry by your mother. She could scarcely say no to a marquess.”

  “We truly have had too much to drink this afternoon,” she said, taking the quill from him. “I will agree to this madness. After all, there is little chance either of us still being unattached by that time.”

  He watched her sign the paper as his smile slowly faded. There was no way of stopping her should she decide to marry someone else. Six years. How would he manage?

  Some distance might help his cause and help change her mind. Perhaps he
should pay a visit to the estate in India as he’d planned two years ago before he met Louisa. Harry needed to make the trip once before he inherited to have a firsthand account of the estate.

  He knew she would miss him, but she also might realize how much she loved him. She was far too logical to accept another man without conferring with him. She would want to verify that she had looked at every angle for a flaw in the man.

  And if she did decide on a man, she would be forced to delay any wedding to write to him for advice. He could then return and sweep her off her feet.

  India was so dreadfully far away. He would be gone for well over a year, maybe two. Harry swallowed back the bitter taste of trepidation. It was time to leave England.

  Leave Louisa.

  But only in preparation for a victorious return.

  Chapter 1

  Northumbria 1819

  “DO NOT STOP NOW! YOU’RE almost there. There will be a fire and tea waiting for you.”

  Louisa Drake knew no one would hear her, just as she knew no tea would be waiting for an uninvited guest. But she needed to say the words aloud as an affirmation to herself that she would make it to Northwood Park without collapsing into a snowdrift.

  Lifting her head slightly, she noticed the estate coming into view, not that she could see much detail as the wind whipped the snow sideways. The house couldn’t be more than a quarter of a mile down the long drive. She continued to trudge through the snow determined to reach the house before sundown.

  Or before she froze to death.

  At this point, she wasn’t certain which might happen first.

  “This is all your fault,” she yelled toward the house.

  As expected, the house did not reply.

  Everything, from her spinsterhood to her current predicament plodding through a blizzard alone was all his fault. Well, she supposed she couldn’t entirely blame her unmarried state on the occupant of the manor ahead. That had to do with her stubbornness and pickiness. But her reputation as one of the Daring Drake Sisters had at least a little to do with his family.

  His father to be precise.