The Pirate's Duchess: A Regent's Revenge Novella

The Pirate’s Duchess

A Regent’s Revenge Novella

by

Katherine Bone

LICENSE AND COPYRIGHT NOTES

The Pirate’s Duchess

Copyright © 2016 by Katherine Bone

Cover Design by Romance Cover Creations

Editing by Double Vision Editorial

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

For more information:
[email protected]

www.katherinebone.com

Dedication

“Wide sea, that one continuous murmur breeds along the pebbled shore of memory!”

~ John Keats

To my daughters, for their fierce courage, strength, and determination.

Acknowledgments

It takes a village to bring a book to life. Writing is a solitary business, but the process involves molding story clay until a book can stand alone. First and foremost, I would not be who I am or be able to share my passion for swashbuckling stories without the love and encouragement of my rogue and my family. They are a glorious buoy to my soul!

In the case of
The Pirate’s Duchess
, Regent’s Revenge Series Book #1, I owe author M.V. Freeman, my brainstorming partner, phenomenal thanks. Her friendship and inspiration keep me grounded, especially when the writing gets tough!

Brilliant credit goes to my editors, Danielle Poiesz, Lorrie McCann, and Lisa Scott. Their insights, guidance, and remarkable support sculpted this epic adventure into something beyond FABulous! Thank you! Thank you! Huzzah!!!

Huge thanks this go round go to Kelly Braun, Kimm Fontenot Cooper and Janie McGaugh for their contributions for The Black Regent, The
Fury
, and Lucky Ned (in that order). Thank you for your suggestions!

Raisin’ the signal flag to the Rogues, Rebels & Rakes Street Team! My adventures in literary seas ARR much more fun with you!!!

And lastly, but certainly not least, I’d like to thank the wonderful ladies of the
Once Upon a True Love’s Kiss Anthology
: Julie Johnstone, Collette Cameron, Jillian Chantal, Samantha Grace, Alanna Lucas, Lauren Smith, and Victoria Vane. Readers wouldn’t have
The Pirate’s Duchess
or the Regent’s Revenge Series without the inspiration, talent, friendship, and generosity of these extraordinary authors!

Until next time, I wish you fair winds!

Katherine

Table of Content

     
DEDICATION             

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

PROLOGUE

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

EPILOGUE

ALSO AVAILABLE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

PROLOGUE

Letter from Lewis Barrett, Marquess of Eggleston, to His Grace, Richard Denzell, fifth Duke of Blackmoor, 23 September 1806

My Lord Duke,

It is with great sorrow that I must inform you we have been betrayed. Lord Underwood has undermined our adventures in copper and tin at Whitechurch, Eylesbarrow, and Mary Tavy. Desperate to recover our losses from those mines, I conferred with several bankers, who agreed selling our shares was in our best interest. To my shame, Lord Underwood bought them shortly afterward and profited £300,000. As a result, my family is penniless and my son will be shunned. Can such a thing be written with decided calm? I cannot bear the shame. There is only one escape: meeting my maker, knowing that you, of all capable men, whose authority and power surpass all but the king’s, will ensure our heirs do not fall prey to a likewise scheme.

I beg you, keep our association secret. Do not reveal this letter or the source of the copper ore that Thomas Davis discovered at your estate. If that information was to fall into the wrong hands, I believe Underwood would do anything to claim it, including commit murder.

Allow me, my faithful friend, to close my eyes one last time knowing that you will administer justice and ensure that my son, Algernon, does not suffer my fate. I go to my grave knowing he is in your capable hands.

I remain obedient,

Eggleston

ONE

SMUGGLING! If ever there was a need to TERMINATE this ill-timed enterprise,
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post
insists the BLACK REGENT and his intolerable crew occasion the greatest enthusiasm and the hopes of mortals! Let it be known, ANYONE caught AIDING the cunning villain will be held LIABLE for damages and sent to ROUGEMONT.

~
Trewman’s Exeter Flying Post
, 1 February 1807

Exeter, Devon

April 1809

“Do you have everything you need, Your Grace?”

Prudence, the Duchess of Blackmoor nodded to Reverend Polidor Leyes, the vicar assigned to her soon-to-be father-in-law’s estate, then clasped her dearest friend’s hands as the chapel bells chimed ten times.

“Well,” she said, smiling when the door closed, leaving the two of them alone again. “Today begins a new chapter of my life.”

Lady Chloe Walsingham squeezed Prudence’s hands and swung her arms wide to inspect her apple-green wedding gown. “You’re a beautiful bride, Pru. And you deserve a happy ending.”

Closing her eyes, Prudence glanced down at the intricate detail of her fruitful-colored gown, the yards of matching gossamer and lace, savoring the moment, and allowing herself to be transported back to the morning she’d married the man who owned her heart and soul—Tobias, the Duke of Blackmoor. Her breast had been full of boundless joy and love that momentous day. Strangely now, the bittersweet contrast between the virginal white she’d worn then and the gown she wore now, Tobias and her intended—Basil, Earl of Markwick—flashed in her mind’s eye, teasing her with images of what could have been, of how deeply she could have loved, had a brutal fire not stolen her former husband’s life.

Heat rose to her face as, once more, the stable’s deadly flames hissed and crackled untamed before her like a hungry, writhing, poisonous viper sinking its fangs deep into her heart. Horses neighed. Men shouted.

Prudence grabbed her constricting throat.

“What is it?” Chloe asked, touching Prudence’s cheek. “Are you overcome with emotion?”

The memories immediately silenced.

“You feel overly warm,” her friend went on. “Perhaps you should sit down until the reverend returns.”

Prudence inhaled a fortifying breath. “No,” she said, forcing a smile. “On the contrary, I am quite well.” She removed Chloe’s hand and straightened her spine, determined more than ever to move on with her life.

It had been two years since fate had seared her heart to embers and labeled her a widow. She’d survived the devastating loss and the tempering that followed, allowing herself to be forged for a moment such as this. Why, then, when she had to speak her vows, did
that
fateful night play over and over again in her mind?

She walked past a table and a pair of chairs to the pitcher and bowl that were situated on a sideboard. She reached in, then dabbed cool water on her heated skin.

“Why are you so nervous? We’ve known the earl for years.”

Prudence turned to find Chloe running her fingers along Mr. Leyes’s excellent collection of literature assembled on the floor-to-ceiling shelves. She tried to push her concerns aside. “I shall endeavor to make him happy with all my heart.”

Truth be told, she loved Basil. Did it matter that she wasn’t
in
love with him?

For her, marriage had lost its romantic appeal the day she’d buried Tobias. These days, she didn’t desire to be swept off her feet. What she needed now was companionship, a comfortable life, children.

Resigned to give Basil everything she had and more, she walked toward Chloe and led her away from the books. “Wish me luck?”

“Luck?” Chloe giggled the way she always did when she was about to make comparisons between them. “You are set to marry one of the most handsome, eligible men in all of Exeter. If anyone is in need of good fortune, it is I, Pru.”

Prudence tsked. “That isn’t true and you know it. You have much to offer any gentleman. Perhaps one sits in the rectory now, a handsome cavalier destined to whisk you away before the Season comes to an end.”

“Not if my brother continues to scare them off.” Chloe’s brow furrowed like a petulant child’s. “Oh, why did Pierce have to become a revenue officer?”

“Captain Walsingham is only doing his part.”

“Yes. To ruin my life.”

“Nay. To stand up to the Black Regent. Smugglers cannot be allowed to raid ships and sail the English Channel as if they are above the law. Think of the investors and merchants being put out of business.” Basil’s father, William, the Marquess of Underwood included. If Basil was correct, the marquess was on the brink of insolvency, which made his insistence on her marrying Basil understandable. Not only did Basil and Prudence care for each other dearly, but the unentailed lands Tobias had left her were worth at least ten thousand pounds a year.

“No,” she said, determined to overcome any adversity. The Blackmoor estate would become her groom’s, after all. “I heartily approve of the captain’s pursuits. Your brother has done more for Exeter than anyone I know, and I’m glad of it.”

Chloe crossed her arms over her elegant ecru gown. “No one can get past the drawbridge Pierce has levered at our door. No one.”

“Drawbridge?” Prudence giggled. “Your brother isn’t a villain from one of your Gothic novels, Chloe. He strives to protect you as diligently as he does our shipping lanes. The right man will come along. I urge you to be patient.”

“Regretfully,” Chloe said on a sigh, “patience isn’t one of my strongest qualities.”

It was true. Chloe was extremely impatient, and her impetuous actions kept the captain on his toes. “You have a caring nature, a highly prized quality in any woman and one not easily found these days. And I cherish you all the more for it.”

“Oh, I do care, Pru. I really do. I want you to be happy.” Chloe stepped back, clapped her hands over her mouth and then spread her arms. “I’ve always envied you. In my eyes, you
are
the luckiest woman in the world.”

“I am”—she’d once considered herself lucky—“as light as a feather.”

A feather disturbed by a sudden breeze.

“Who wouldn’t be? You’re about to marry the man you love. Is there anything more divine than that?”

Prudence gazed out the window of the stone chapel at the meadow that disappeared across the plateau leading to Blackmoor’s property line. The acreage abutted Lord Underwood’s estate and heralded prized orchards, hedgerows, fenced meadows, quarries, shapely knolls, and watercourses that fed the river below. But the manor house with its multiple stories of granite ashlar and wood withheld secrets she had yet to ascertain, information that had gone with Tobias to the grave, leaving her with no explanation why a map detailing another source of income on the estate had been locked away in his study.

“You aren’t having second thoughts, are you?” Chloe crossed the distance and fingered Prudence’s curls into place. “You have nothing to fear. Your father is in the chapel. And I saw your groom and Lord Underwood arrive nearly an hour ago.”

Prudence sighed wistfully. “I know.” She turned her thoughts to the aged marquess, imagining him standing in the church, hunched over his cane, measuring each person’s worth and finding them lacking. A pincher who hoarded every farthing, Basil’s father was a renowned curmudgeon.

“What then? Are you worried Lord Underwood and your father will come to blows?”

“No,” she lied. Lord Underwood’s gruff exterior and business tactics were legendary, and though her father approved of Basil, he was decidedly unapologetic in his opinions about Lord Underwood. He wasn’t alone in those opinions, either.

She touched her lips, calmed by the memory of her intended’s kiss. She’d endure Lord Underwood’s intrusive opinions if it meant she gained the love and companionship of his son.

Prudence released a sigh and finally spoke to the heart of her worry. “Do you think I deserve a second chance at happiness, Chloe?”

Chloe’s laughter caught her completely off guard. “Do frogs have warts?”

Prudence withheld her mirth. “Don’t you mean toads?”

Chloe made a face. “Don’t quibble. How many frogs did we kiss hoping one of them would turn into a prince?”

“One slimy creature was enough.” At least neither of them had grown warts during their childhood experiment.

An enviable dimple appeared on Chloe’s left cheek. Her unusual, but extraordinary violet eyes rounded, glistening with myriad emotions as she reached into her reticule and produced her copy of
The Castle of Otranto
.

“On page twenty-seve
n—
”

“Please tell me you didn’t bring
that
book to my wedding.”

“I did,” Chloe confirmed with a grin. “You know I never go anywhere without it. And I shall continue to read about blackguards and rogues while Markwick pampers you anon. I’ve never seen a man so smitten.” She closed the book and hugged the volume close to her chest. She sighed distractedly. “How I long for a gentleman like the Earl of Markwick to do the same for me.”

“That day will come,” Prudence promised. “And when it does, your wallflower days will be all but forgotten.”

Chloe released a hopeful sigh. “Do you think I shall find a man as worthy as Isabella’s Theodore?”

“I know so.” It was only fair. Chloe deserved a man who’d move heaven and earth to convey his love—a heroic man like Tobias.

I am such a fool hanging on to my ghosts.
Tobias is gone. Basil is my future now.

“What I wouldn’t give to meet a man as dashing as the Black Regent, though,” Chloe said, drawing in another idealistic sigh.

Prudence released a horrified gasp. “The Black Regent? Why on earth would you glorify that rogue, especially when you brother is trying to catch him?”

“Bookkeepers under my brother’s employ verified that local men are receiving stipends in their accounts when none were to be had. Does that not remind you of Robin Hood?” She stepped toward the mirror as if conveying mere gossip, rearranged an errant curl, then turned back to Prudence to put on her gloves. “I’ve overheard Pierce say the Regent’s demeanor is darker than the clothes he wears. His ship, the
Fury
, is the wraith of the Cornish coast, painted blacker than night, and nigh uncatchable. You do know what this means, don’t you?”

“No.”

“He’s even more complex than characters in our favorite tomes! How romantic!”

“A pirate? Preposterous!” How many times did she have to remind Chloe that the novels she read were works of fiction? “There is nothing romantic about pirates.” Prudence eyed the door, counting down the moments until she was summoned, unsure she wanted to hear more shocking details. But for some inexplicable reason, she went on. “Tell me. What has
he
done now?”

Chloe’s expression turned sheepish. “He targeted another one of Lord Underwood’s ships.”

“
Another
one?” she asked, lowering her voice to a whisper. If she knew one thing about Lord Underwood, it was this: he valued monetary worth over blood. And right now, with the dire straits he was already in financially, worry sunk deep in Prudence’s belly.

“Yes, the cunning devil,” Chloe continued. “He divided up the cargo and gave it to anyone who could carry it off the beach.”

Prudence chewed the inside of her lower lip. “Why wasn’t I informed about this earlier?”

“I assume Markwick didn’t want to worry you about it before the wedding.”

Prudence toyed with the Honiton lace at her wrists as her friend went on. “I’m sure the earl waits to divulge this unhappy state of affairs after your wedding night. Men do not feel obliged to burden women with their concerns.”

Pru looked up at Chloe sharply. “I am not most women.”

“Oh yes. I am well aware of that, dear friend. I feel positive Markwick simply wants to preserve your happiness, rather than encumber you with his father’s difficulties.”

Prudence tapped her bottom lip, then sighed. “I suppose you are right. Go on. Tell me what else you’ve heard.”

Chloe’s eyes brightened. “After the pirate’s last attack,” she said, thankfully leaving out her usual litany of the devil’s misdeeds, “The Captain was forced to escort debt collectors from Lord Underwood’s offices.”

“You
can
use your brother’s name when we’re alone, Chloe.”

Her brows furrowed. She gulped. “Forgive me. Old habits. You know how demanding he is.”

“I do.” Prudence had also known Underwood was struggling, but was the marquess
destitute
?

“I assure you, these are not yarns. Not in the least. Pierce has it on good authority—”

“Your brother has been feeding your imagination again.”

Chloe’s smile faltered. “Balderdash.”

Prudence fanned herself more rapidly. “I’m surprised that you, of all people, believe your brother’s stories. Even if he does work with the Royal Navy and the Revenue Office, don’t you remember how he deceived both of us into believing we could swim?”