The Duke Trap, page 1
The Duke Trap
Determined Debutantes
Book 3
Bianca Blythe
© Copyright 2022 by Bianca Blythe
Text by Bianca Blythe
Cover by Wicked Smart Designs
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 April 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.
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Additional Dragonblade books by Author Bianca Blythe
Determined Debutantes Series
The Secret Life of a Debutante (Book 1)
You’ve Got an Earl (Book 2)
The Duke Trap (Book 3)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Publisher’s Note
Additional Dragonblade books by Author Bianca Blythe
About the Book
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
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Epilogue
About the Author
The Duke Trap
Leonora Holt never expected that her two younger sisters would find love before her. Lately she’s grown disconcertingly accustomed to her brother’s sighs and hints that she needs to marry. How can she find anyone when one dreadful man, the Duke of Dartmouth, is intent on reminding all the ton of her mother’s scandal?
Sebastian, the Duke of Dartmouth, knows he should probably forget how the Holt family destroyed the last years of his father’s life. At one point, he even considered Leonora Holt his best friend. Of course, that was when he was ten, and he’s achieved far more wisdom since then. He’s also gained a secret, but that’s something he has no intention of ever revealing.
Leonora is determined to trap Sebastian. If his reputation is maligned, perhaps he will halt disparaging her family. Fortunately, she has the perfect plan, one that absolutely does not involve falling in love with the duke herself.
Chapter One
The bishop spoke, the guests prepared to applaud, and Leonora Holt tried to pretend that Sebastian, the Duke of Dartmouth, was not sitting in the third pew.
Unfortunately, pretending was impossible, even from her vantage point beside her sister and minister. It would be easier if the duke weren’t so tall, and if his shoulders weren’t quite so wide. It would also be easier if he weren’t so handsome. His tousled hair glinted under the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows, and his cravat looped in an interesting manner beneath his sturdy jaw.
Her eyes met his, and Sebastian raised an eyebrow nonchalantly. His perfect, succulent lips formed a smirk, and she frowned. Clearly, she’d trained her eyes to have too high a regard for symmetry and ideal forms.
Sebastian’s emerald eyes shimmered, the color made brighter by his dark-umber hair. His skin was pale: no doubt the man spent time ruminating on how he might harm people, inside his various castles and elaborate town houses rather than enjoying the fresh air like most people.
The bishop was speaking, and Leonora forced her gaze away from the duke. Her sister was getting married. That was far more important.
Leonora had known Cornelius since she’d been young, though she’d never imagined there might be a romance between Eloisa and him. She glanced at her older brother. His expression remained stern, and Leonora sighed. She’d thought Timothy would be pleased to realize his best friend would always be a part of their family life. In fact, she’d thought he’d overcome his initial shock.
Leonora followed Timothy’s gaze, then her expression sobered. He was looking at a woman: Mama.
Leonora swallowed hard. No wonder Timothy’s expression had been somber.
Normally Leonora might have been pleased when her mother was present, but that had been before.
Before Mama had decided to pose nude for the painter Julius’s latest collection.
Before Mama had caused a scandal throughout the ton.
The other members of the audience gazed nervously at Mama as if she might decide to undress right there and then.
Mama, though, was clothed in an immaculate peach dress and a large stovepipe bonnet. Even the expansive brim and the crown trimmed with ostrich feathers couldn’t obscure her wide smile and gleeful expression.
Finally, Cornelius and Eloisa exchanged vows, and the guests clapped. Cornelius and Eloisa strode down the aisle. The overlay of Eloisa’s gown glimmered in the light, and Cornelius’s beam was impossibly broad.
A nervous-looking organist pounded on the keys, and everyone tossed rice from their reticules.
Leonora followed the newly married couple, careful not to look in Sebastian’s direction. Children cheered as they exited the church and flung flower petals. The sun had decided to radiate at full force, a rarity in April, and all the world smiled.
People surged around Eloisa and Cornelius, unperturbed by the portico’s thick Corinthian columns, and offered their congratulations.
Cornelius’s driver pulled up in Cornelius’s barouche, and Eloisa and Cornelius entered the elegant carriage. Someone had hung a wreath over the barouche, and the crowd exclaimed as the horses trotted away and led the couple to their new future together.
Leonora was happy for Eloisa.
Utterly happy.
Still, Leonora’s heart ached. Things were now different. Leonora glanced at Sabrina, but she was joyfully clapping her hands beside her betrothed. Leonora felt guilty for her sudden melancholy.
“And now for the wedding breakfast,” Timothy declared and marched in the direction of his town house.
Leonora wrapped her shawl more tightly to her, lest it flutter away with the breeze, and strolled after her brother. People thronged about her, chattering merrily about the loveliness of the wedding and Eloisa.
“Your younger sister got married before you,” a velvety voice said.
Leonora turned, then scowled.
It was him.
Sebastian stood beside her. Worse, he was smirking.
Leonora forced her features to remain placid. “I didn’t think you would be here, Your Grace.”
He gave her a wry smile, and his dark eyebrows, the same color as his glossy coiffure, moved downward. “I’m at every event, Miss Holt.”
“I thought you despised our family. Has that changed?” Leonora adopted her most saccharine tone.
“Naturally not.”
They strode in unison toward her brother’s house. She suddenly wished Timothy’s house were far closer. If only someone could rescue her from the duke. The man’s masculine scent was distracting.
“Oh, darling!” An alto voice Leonora could never forget interrupted her thoughts. “How lovely to see you!”
“Good morning, Mama.” Leonora shot her mother a wobbly smile.
Personally, Leonora would have found it lovelier if Mama had decided not to come to the wedding. Everyone was looking at her curiously. Even if they hadn’t seen the painting at Lady Richmond’s town house, all the scandal sheets had written about it.
Everyone knew Mama had posed for a nude painting, and even though the painter in question, Julius, was famous and frequently won awards when his paintings weren’t being banned, all the t on had been scandalized.
Leonora and her sisters hadn’t thought they would be able to marry, but somehow, Eloisa had managed to win the viscount’s heart, even though everyone knew one wasn’t supposed to fall in love with one’s older brother’s best friend. Even Leonora’s youngest sister, Sabrina, had found love with an earl whom she’d long admired.
Now Leonora was officially allowed to continue her season. Leonora doubted she would get a second one, and if any scandal occurred, Timothy might decide it was better to send her off to be a companion or governess to someone after all. His main concern was the reputation of his wife and unborn children.
“You appear glum.” Mama took Leonora’s arm and wrapped it tightly with her own, ignoring the duke’s presence beside them. Mama’s familiar scent of roses and musk wafted over Leonora. “Don’t worry. You’ll marry too.”
A few people turned toward them, their eyebrows perched at unusually high positions.
“Mama!” Leonora said, and her cheeks warmed. She didn’t want anyone to think she was concerned about finding a husband. Sebastian’s comments had been sufficiently infuriating.
“I know how hard it is for you,” Mama continued, “since you are the oldest child. No doubt you did not anticipate that your younger sisters would find love before you. You will marry though.”
“I-I know.”
Leonora wished Mama’s voice did not carry with so much force. If only Mama hadn’t mastered elocution. She’d been on the stage before Papa had married her, and clearly, speaking loudly was the sort of thing one never forgot.
Leonora cast a nervous glance around and caught Sebastian’s eyes. His lips were curled in blatant amusement. She looked away abruptly. She was not going to focus on him. It didn’t matter what he thought—he already despised her.
Still, she would rather he wouldn’t feel sorry for her.
“You truly are pretty,” Mama said, evidently taking Leonora’s horrified expression as a sign of doubt and not outrage at the inappropriateness of the conversation. “A bit tall, of course. And you don’t have your sister Sabrina’s bosom or bottom.”
“Mama!” Leonora exclaimed sternly.
“Still, surely, someone will marry you.”
Tittering sounded around them, and when Leonora looked about her, some women were clutching their lace-embroidered handkerchiefs to their mouths and others were pondering the facade of St. George’s with rather more intensity than the task demanded. Timothy had invited a large crowd, as if to prove the family was no longer tainted by scandal.
“Perhaps we can speak about something else,” Leonora said miserably.
“But marriage should be possible,” Mama insisted.
“That’s not a concern,” Leonora said softly.
“Your brother seems to think so,” Mama said.
Leonora jerked her head toward her mother. “Indeed?”
“Indeed.” Mama gave a contented smile, the sort people were prone to displaying when they had some gossip their conversation partners had not yet obtained.
Leonora gave an exasperated sigh. “You shouldn’t have been invited,” she said finally.
Mama widened her eyes. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do. You disappeared. I haven’t seen you in ages. And now, during my season, you appear when you’re at your most scandalous.”
“Are you telling me I am interrupting your marital plans?” Mama asked.
Leonora wrinkled her brow, then bit her lip. “No,” she admitted. “That’s not quite true.”
“I know,” Mama said. “Timothy said there wasn’t a single man you expressed any interest in. He’s even contacted the woman who ran your finishing school. What was her name?”
“Mrs. Feldman, Mama,” Leonora said. “Her name is in the finishing school name. You would know it if you’d paid the least bit of attention over the years.”
“Oh.” Mama blinked and had the good sense to look guilty.
Leonora sighed and quickened her pace. Her shift was suddenly far too tight. She must speak to her maid about that. She marched over the pink-and-white buds scattered over the pavement and didn’t pause to inhale the fragrant scent of the blossoming trees about her. Normally, when she took walks with her sisters, she might pause to exclaim over the magnificent facades on some of the town houses, determining which half-naked Grecian god or goddess the architect had chosen to adorn the house with, and musing over the appropriate ferocity of the cast-iron door knockers, shaped like bears and lions.
She glanced at Sabrina, who was strolling slowly with the Earl of Plymouth. On occasion, her sister threw her head back and laughed. The earl’s gaze was besotted.
Her mother was correct. She did need to find a husband of her own. Unfortunately, the task didn’t fill her with enthusiasm.
Chapter Two
Wedding guests thronged the foyer, obscuring the coquelicot wallpaper Constance had recently installed. The servants had rearranged the furniture, no doubt to make the best use of the space.
Leonora sauntered toward her sister, past the floral and musk concoctions wafting through the narrow room. “Congratulations. I am so very happy for you.”
Eloisa offered her an angelic smile. “Thank you.”
In the next moment, Eloisa was swept away by the other guests, who hugged and embraced her.
“Time to eat!” Timothy announced gleefully, rubbing his hands. Evidently her brother had seen cook’s delicacies.
Everyone filed into the dining room. Vibrant, colored punch glimmered from crystal tumblers, and delicious lamb and bread scents inundated Leonora’s nostrils.
The guests sat to indulge in the delicious wedding breakfast that cook had spread before them and glanced at the wedding gifts piled around the fireplace. The wooden mantel seemed in danger of toppling from the considerable presents, and a large, rectangular gift Leonora did not recognize leaned against the wall.
“You must open your presents, Eloisa!” Sabrina clapped her hands and gestured to the various wrapped gifts about them.
The others concurred.
Sabrina pointed to the rectangular gift that towered even over the sizable mantel. “I’m quite curious about that one.”
“Very well.” Eloisa strode toward it. “Join me, Cornelius.”
Her new husband rose obediently. His gaze remained fixed on Eloisa, as if she was a beautiful sculpture he could not believe was not only real but also his wife.
Leonora ignored the sudden pang that came through her at the sight of his obvious adoration for her younger sister. What might it be like to be so in love? Even her younger sister, Sabrina, was betrothed.
She turned her attention to the stack of gifts. Some of the items she recognized, but what was in that large, rectangular package? It almost resembled a painting. She frowned. Surely it wouldn’t be a painting.
Though Leonora had always thought of herself as more of an art enthusiast than not, lately she’d grown weary of paintings. After all, Mama had posed for Julius for some particularly scandalous ones that had found their way through London’s high society. Leonora could only imagine what would happen if Eloisa unwrapped such a painting before the various guests, and her stomach contracted.
Leonora glanced at the various aristocrats. How many were here simply for curiosity? Would they be sympathetic if Eloisa unwrapped a scandalous painting? Or would they be appalled that they’d taken a chance on the family and be eager to gossip to the rest of the ton?
Leonora bit her lip and glanced at Julius. “You didn’t by any chance gift Eloisa a painting?”
A pained look appeared on Julius’s face, and he raised his chin. “My paintings are the pinnacle of art. Indeed, one could say that all previous art methods have led up to my particular painting style. Would I ever gift a piece to someone who, for some utterly absurd reason, does not appreciate it?”
“I don’t know,” Leonora admitted. “Is that rhetorical?”
Julius rolled his eyes and banged a fist on the table, and some of the silver cutlery clinked together. “No! Of course not. My paintings deserve to be adored. They should be lauded and extolled. Not tolerated and certainly not banished to an attic or, worse yet, a cellar.”
