One Magic Night, page 1
One Magic Night
By Alexa Aston
© Copyright 2022 by Alexa Aston
Text by Alexa Aston
Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.
P.O. Box 23
Moreno Valley, CA 92556
ceo@dragonbladepublishing.com
Produced in the United States of America
First Edition December 2022
Kindle Edition
Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.
All Rights Reserved.
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:
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Additional Dragonblade books by Author Alexa Aston
Second Sons of London Series
Educated By The Earl
Debating With The Duke
Empowered By The Earl
Made for the Marquess
Dubious about the Duke
Valued by the Viscount
Meant for the Marquess
Dukes Done Wrong Series
Discouraging the Duke
Deflecting the Duke
Disrupting the Duke
Delighting the Duke
Destiny with a Duke
Dukes of Distinction Series
Duke of Renown
Duke of Charm
Duke of Disrepute
Duke of Arrogance
Duke of Honor
The Duke That I Want
The St. Clairs Series
Devoted to the Duke
Midnight with the Marquess
Embracing the Earl
Defending the Duke
Suddenly a St. Clair
Starlight Night (Novella)
The Twelve Days of Love (Novella)
Soldiers & Soulmates Series
To Heal an Earl
To Tame a Rogue
To Trust a Duke
To Save a Love
To Win a Widow
Yuletide at Gillingham (Novella)
The Lyon’s Den Series
The Lyon’s Lady Love
King’s Cousins Series
The Pawn
The Heir
The Bastard
Medieval Runaway Wives
Song of the Heart
A Promise of Tomorrow
Destined for Love
Knights of Honor Series
Word of Honor
Marked by Honor
Code of Honor
Journey to Honor
Heart of Honor
Bold in Honor
Love and Honor
Gift of Honor
Path to Honor
Return to Honor
Pirates of Britannia Series
God of the Seas
De Wolfe Pack: The Series
Rise of de Wolfe
The de Wolfes of Esterley Castle
Diana
Derek
Thea
Also from Alexa Aston
The Bridge to Love
One Magic Night
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Publisher’s Note
Additional Dragonblade books by Author Alexa Aston
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
Epilogue
About the Author
Chapter One
London—June 1813
He looked like his Flynn brothers. Moved like them. Spoke like them.
Yet Aidan Flynn felt nothing like a Sinning Flynn.
His family had descended from a long-ago Irish pirate who had fallen in love with a Cornish lass and settled in Cornwall. Flynns had continued the family tradition of smuggling for several generations, including his own father, Sean Flynn. Da had continued smuggling and apparently was involved in other mysterious activities, which the crown had decided to reward, much to the chagrin of the ton. King George III had bestowed upon the commoner from Cornwall an earldom and land. With the title Earl of Sinbrook, a large estate, and his own vast wealth behind him, Da had married a duke’s daughter, who had jilted her betrothed for the darkly handsome Sean Flynn.
And thus was born the legend of the first Sinning Flynn.
Though Da had taken the Flynn family business to legitimacy in recent years and now owned a large shipping empire with a huge fleet that traveled the globe, his four sons’ legacies had been to live down the unscrupulous Sinbrook reputation. The ton had no idea why the king had bestowed an earldom upon Sean Flynn. Thanks to George’s periodic bouts of madness, no one in Polite Society was quite sure if it had been the mad king who had presented the gift of an earldom—or the rational one who appeared from time to time.
That led to the vicious gossip throughout the ton as to the enigmatic circumstances surrounding the Earl of Sinbrook. That murkiness, coupled with Da’s smuggling and Mama’s rejection of her oh-so-suitable fiancé, led to the division in Polite Society, where half its members accepted the Flynns because of their ties to the crown and the powerful, influential Duke of Savernake, while the other half rudely ignored them—although no one had ever been brave enough to give any Flynn the cut direct.
Yet.
Instead of trying to assimilate into the ton and show they were beyond reproach, Aidan’s three older brothers had embraced the family’s blackened reputation, showing Polite Society that they were even wilder and more reckless than Sean Flynn ever dreamed of being.
From a young age, Aidan had sensed he was different from his brothers, more like his mother’s side of the family. His brothers were all intelligent men, yet they scoffed at book learning. Carmack and Kellen had refused to go to university altogether, though Rory had attended Oxford. Aidan had insisted upon going to Cambridge, which his beloved grandfather, the Duke of Savernake, had attended. Aidan was drawn from an early age to Doo, his nickname for his grandfather. Apparently, he had not been able to say Duke when he was learning to talk and it had come out Doo. The nickname had stuck and Aidan was the only one of the four Flynn brothers who called the duke such.
He had insisted upon spending a portion of his summers with Doo after he turned eight. Those times away from his family with his grandfather were treasured ones. Doo took him out on his various estates and taught Aidan the lessons needed on how to run one successfully. Not that Aidan would ever inherit such an estate. As the youngest of four brothers, he would not inherit the title Earl of Sinbrook or receive any of the entailed lands belonging to the earldom. Any land he got, he would have to purchase himself. That had been a goal he’d set from an early age.
Because of it, he had also worked in his father’s shipping business. Aidan had a head for figures, the same as Doo, and he worked closely with the manager who kept the ledgers for Flynn Fleet. By the time Aidan finished university and came to work fulltime in his father’s shipping enterprise, Da had told Aidan he was the best prepared of all his Flynn sons to run a business. Any kind of business.
The gleam in his father’s eyes let Aidan know that Da approved of him stepping out on his own. So while he maintained an office at Flynn Fleet in Falmouth, most of his time was spent managing his own private business.
Smuggling.
He supposed it was in his blood to be a smuggler as his ancestors had been. While his three older brothers often took risks in real life, Aidan was willing to take them as he smuggled goods. And smuggling was very, very profitable with the war with Bonaparte going on. His ships had increased in size and number and now, at twenty-eight, Aidan was wealthy in his own right, independent of his family’s wealth. Mostly, he smuggled
Until then, Aidan planned to make as much money as possible. When the war was finally over, he would be able to retire with a massive fortune.
He supposed he would start some kind of legitimate business after that, most likely in shipping since it was what he knew. A part of him, though, longed for the life of a country gentleman. He was interested in crops and breeding animals, especially horses. Doo had taught him quite a bit about horse breeding and encouraged his grandson in his endeavor. Because of it, Aidan actually had bought a few racehorses and kept a small stable. Instead of living near the sea, he might move further inland, closer to Doo, whose ducal country seat at Summerwood was twenty miles northeast of Dorchester.
All this led him to the idea that he would need to take a wife. Especially if he wanted to pass on his wealth and property to someone other than his brothers or their children.
That would be hard to do, though, thanks to the reputation he held as a Sinning Flynn. Carmack and Kellen, the two oldest Flynns, had been outrageous rakehells, cutting a large swath through the ton with their sexual escapades. Rory was now following in their footsteps. He was a womanizer, gambler, and known card sharp. The few times Aidan had bothered to attend events during the Season over the past few years, his brothers’ reputations had preceded him. Though he was the grandson of a duke and the son of an earl, many in Polite Society viewed him with suspicion, mainly because of the Sinning Flynns’ reputations and labeled him thus.
Because he wanted to fit into his family, Aidan had tried to live up to his brothers’ roguish reputations, figuring he would never take a bride who came from the ranks of Polite Society and might as well enjoy his time whenever he came to town. When in London, he frequented gaming hells and found himself winning more often than not. He had one of the finest pairs of matched bays and would race anyone in his phaeton through Hyde Park, the higher the stakes, the better.
He had never lost a race.
He also had had a string of mistresses over the years when he came to town, keeping away from the houses of ill repute. He found he preferred getting his satisfaction from a mistress. He knew what to expect from them and the understanding was reciprocated on their part. Usually, their affair would last a few weeks, no longer than a month or so, and then he would end it amicably, awarding his mistress with some pretty bauble for her time.
He was back in London now for the Season, arriving late last night. He had not come in the spring when it began because his smuggling operations had needed his full attention. Recently, however, Doo had sent him a letter, asking him to come by summer solstice, when Doo’s famous Stag Ball would be held. The ball achieved its nickname because the Duke of Savernake’s standard was a stag. Aidan and his brothers always tried to attend the Stag Ball, which had a reputation of wild and wonderful things occurring during it. In fact, both Carmack and Kellen had found their brides during this very ball. Even Aidan had heard the old saying that a reformed rogue made for the best husband—and he had witnessed this with his two older brothers. Both Carmack and Kellen had been tamed by strong women and now they stayed happily in Cornwall, not bothering to attend the Season, much as his parents did.
Aidan knew, however, that Rory would be at the Stag Ball, too. He had said as much before he left Cornwall. His hot-headed, brilliant brother had bragged, telling Aidan that he planned to land a bride at the Stag Ball—one taken for revenge.
Without being told, he knew exactly what that would entail—ensnaring one of the daughters of the Earl of Exford. Exford was the man their mother had tossed aside decades ago when she had fallen in love with the new Earl of Sinbrook. Lord Exford had never forgiven his former fiancée for that particular sin. While Exford had married well and had two daughters, he continually badmouthed the Flynns to anyone willing to listen. In fact, Aidan wouldn’t be surprised if had been Lord Exford who had hung the albatross moniker about their necks.
“Sinning Flynns,” he muttered to himself, disgusted by it.
His family was a good one. Hardworking. Loyal to a fault. If only his brothers hadn’t raised so much holy hell when they were in town, leaving him with a reputation already in tatters before he ever stepped into Polite Society.
Aidan rose from his bed and rang for hot water so he could shave himself. He didn’t employ a valet, another breech the ton would never forgive. He thought the idea ridiculous, one man dressing another, as if he weren’t capable of doing so himself. In fact, he thought most of the unwritten rules of Polite Society to be completely absurd. He was only here because Doo had asked him to come. He had no plan to attend any ton events beyond his grandfather’s Stag Ball. He would visit his banker and solicitor while in town. Aidan had men in the same positions back in Falmouth but he also employed ones here in town. He wanted to discuss some of his investments with them because he had plans of adding another ship to his smuggling operations. Since he believed the war would come to an end in the next year or two, Aidan wanted to get as many black market goods out of France as he could, making as much profit as possible.
Then he would see about turning his small enterprise legitimate. Perhaps Da would wish for Flynn Fleet to buy Aidan’s ships. If not, he had made connections in London and could sell off what he owned, making a tidy profit from the sale. Or he might even do what Da had done and become a true, law-abiding citizen and simply operate a small shipping company. He might need to relocate, however, because he wouldn’t want to be in direct competition with Flynn Fleet. And there was still the thought of buying land and breeding racehorses. He was young and still had time before he needed to finalize the plans for his life, including settling down.
A servant appeared with the hot water. “Anything else for you, Mr. Aidan?”
Having arrived at Doo’s London townhouse late last night, Aidan wondered if Rory was already in residence.
“Has my brother arrived by any chance?” he asked.
The servant nodded. “Mr. Rory came four days ago. I haven’t seen him in the last day or two.”
That meant Rory was on a winning streak and had probably stayed at one of the gaming hells he frequented.
“Will His Grace be downstairs for breakfast?”
“His Grace is always at breakfast, come rain or shine, Mr. Aidan.”
The servant left and he washed and shaved before dressing, making his way downstairs to the breakfast room. As he did, he saw the flurry of activity as servants scurried back and forth. With the Stag Ball happening tonight, the household would be a busy one today, reason enough to get out and see to some of his business interests.
He passed Simms, Doo’s longtime butler, and nodded a greeting. Doo thought so much of Simms that he took the butler with him to whichever of the five households he traveled to. Doo once said Simms was brighter and wiser than any man in the House of Lords.
Entering the breakfast room, he saw Doo already present and went to hug his grandfather. Though they regularly exchanged letters, Aidan had not seen his grandfather since last autumn. It surprised him how thin Doo had grown in that span of time. Though eighty, the old man still had a headful of hair, which had finally grayed a decade ago and then turned white during the last two years. As always, his posture was that of a duke, as he sat ramrod straight in his chair.
As Aidan approached, worry filled him. Doo had never appeared old to him yet he seemed so now, prominent lines about his eyes and mouth.
“Good morning, Doo,” he said, embracing his grandfather and inhaling the familiar bergamot scent he always associated with Doo. It alarmed him just how thin Doo was beneath his tailored coat.
“Grandson. How are you?”
“I am well. Business is booming.”
Aidan took a seat to Doo’s right and they spoke of inconsequential things after that, neither man being one to openly speak in front of servants regarding anything of consequence, though many of the ton did so, spilling their secrets as servants waited upon them hand and foot. Doo had emphasized to Aidan from a young age to keep his mouth shut until behind closed doors—and even then speak very softly—because servants listened behind every door.
