Page 1 of The Brooding Duke's Fateful Letter
Prologue
Devonshire Estate, 1803
The loud, panicked sounds of the horses as they fell to the ground echoed through the cold, night air. The carriage charged into a tree trunk and broke into pieces as the frenzied animals pulled in all directions. The duke felt his body slam into the side of the carriage moments before it crashed down on top of him.
An eerie silence fell all around him, as the horses broke free and ran into the thick brush surrounding them. He tried to move when the icy realization trickled down his spine. His legs were the only part of him not in complete agony.
He could not move his legs to get himself to safety. “Help! Can anyone hear me!”
He cried out in desperation. He had waited in that same position all night and had been found by a kind farmer the next morning. He was cared for, and survived… the duke still used the invalid chair the old man had built for him.
His family, on the other hand, had not known how to treat him after the accident. The doctor had declared that at the young age of twenty, he would be without the use of his legs. What wasmore, his father had just passed, and he had taken on all his responsibility as the new duke.
He at least had the love of a good woman. At least he had been convinced of it at the time. But the wealthy heiress had taken one look at her bedridden husband-to-be and had walked out on him.
Family visited less frequently—the duke felt all but abandoned. He began to announce affair after affair just to have company. As time went on, an invitation to one of The Duke of Devonshire celebrations had become most cherished.
Chapter 1
Devonshire Estate, 1819
Sixteen years later
The excited murmurs could be heard while guests made their way up the stone walkway to the proud, modern, white painted stucco façade of the main house.
Laughter and chatter filled the air as ladies found their friends.
“Darling, you look wonderful, silk always suits you.”
“Thank you, my dear. Don’t think I haven’t noticed those diamonds.” Two ladies gave each other the lightest of embraces as to not ruin their make up.
Their fashionable gowns made of light material suited the particularly warm evening. The men stood nearby hoping to get inside the dining area for a refreshment.
“Do you believe we stand a chance of having a drink before it has all been drunk?” Baron Sylvester Tweed remarked to his companions in a whimsical manner.
“I like to think so,” Edward Sternwood replied dryly.
The third, Lord Benjamin Wells said nothing, but the duke watched him as the man’s gaze wandered through the garden. Wells was known to enjoy large parties—as they allowed him the opportunity to prey on any unmarried ladies.
The duke observed him, and frowned. The man was smiling to himself as he stared over at a ravishing young lady with clear emerald eyes, ones that seemed to create an almost immediate fascination. The duke knew the man was just waiting for his opportunity.
The balmy wind carried harp music out to greet every new arrival to the estate. The large entertainment area, which started outside and continued far into the main house, had nearly a hundred people scattered around, immersed in hushed conversations.
The servants had made sure that every surface gleamed as brightly as the silverware nearby. The large dining table was being set as more and more people arrived. The white tablecloth was almost blinding in its unblemished splendor.
Whenever the duke announced a dinner, it became of utmost importance to be on the guest list. Not being invited meant you were not even worth speaking to in most social circles.
That evening was all about romance. He had arranged that particular party even though he was quite against the notion of love. He had yet to experience the euphoria described by his peers or find reason to believe a woman would want him for more than his money.
He had finally regained his ability to walk, though it took years. He had worked tirelessly to regain his mobility. Only to be crippled by the fear that a woman would never stay by his side in his condition. She had to take him as he was or not at all.
The duke looked toward the guests of honor. The Smith brothers had met a pair of sisters and had courted them at the same time. When the time had come, they had found themselves ready to marry. When word had gotten around that not only one but both Smith brothers were engaged, the town was alight with joy.
The Smiths were a rare combination of wealth and good-heartedness. They created hundreds of jobs in a time where men had fought for work daily. The entire town wanted to celebrate, and the duke would oblige.
Though most would not be invited to the ball, they would eat well. For some a gift more precious than the newest silk gown.
Carriages continued to pull up to the entrance. Dukes, barons… even a prince had made his way from the east to attend. Themere extravagance of a ball hosted by the duke would draw out the most interesting selection of people.
