A Lady For A Duke Novels & Stories

"I am not apologizing for pouring the wine on your head. You deserved it for insulting me and the crown prince. I am the duke's daughter and the crown prince's fiancee. Insulting me is insulting my father and his highness." The lady bit her lower lip and ran away while crying. FLASHBACK END

Somehow, she realized that Lady Faye was nowhere in sight and that she was now alone with this unwelcoming guest. Panic came rushing inside her as the Duke drew nearer, but she tried to compose herself — tried as much as she possibly could. If she was able to manage a good fight with the King, how much more with this lowly trespasser? Holding her face up, she spoke, her callous voice enveloping the room, “You’re right certainly, Duke Conrad. Of course, I don’t know you and I don’t plan to. I am quite sure nothing benefits me from knowing you.”

Working for Lady Lucia was the distraction I needed. She was Duke Kestrel’s wife. She was a sweet and kind-hearted lady with a playful side that made me feel at ease when I was around her. Despite being born into nobility, she had a very relaxed attitude toward many things that a noblewoman would not have. I appreciated how she made me feel like I was more than just a servant maid working off a debt.

If being his heiress was the only way for her to pay back the duke, she would gladly accept the title. And since she made up her mind, her fondness of the old mansion had diminished. She wanted to stay in the duke's mansion and fight for the inheritance if that's what makes the Duke happy. In the first place, she was brought in that place by him to fight for the inheritance. But she wondered why the duke did not want Catarina to inherit the title. Although she was curious, she was sensible enough not to ask. It was the duke's secret. "You can't do this to me!" Lady Geneva yelled. "You will divorce me for that trash?" The Lady laughed. "What on earth are you thinking? She was the daughter of

Excerpt from The Quizzing Glass Gazette, April 3, 1820, The Lady Society Column: Lady Society was quite entertained earlier this week, when she was witness to yet another wicked scheme perpetuated by a member of London's notorious League of Rogues. His Grace, the Duke of Essex, was seen to have been seducing a most attractive widow in the midst of a musicale hosted by Viscount Sheridan.

My best friend and I. A witch and a Fae from Whisperwood. I have the blood of a Seer. My three rune bones can see a kingdom's rise and fall. She's a gold-touched Fae. Born to attract wealth. One roll of the dice in a goblin casino, and she'd empty their vault. When we were eighteen, we found a disgraced Grand Duke in the capital's slums. His stepmother had thrown him out. We saved him. She amassed his gold. I spun his fate. We helped him claw his way back to the capital. He took back his land. His scepter. The first thing he did? He asked my best friend to marry him. They had a son. A gifted heir. I grew tired of the noble squabbles. I went back to my hidden cottage in the woods. Ten years l

My family was the most famous line of witches at the royal court. My sister, Lilith Seyler, was famous for her lofty principles. I was the only one who knew she was a complete fraud. When the royal marriage decree arrived at House Seyler, she shut herself in her prayer room out in the woods and refused to come out. "Duke Edmund, your wealth and your power are dust to me. A proposal from a duke is no different than a proposal from a farmhand." Then she laid out three conditions for Duke Edmund. The Duke was to build a prayer room on his estate, since she needed quiet meditation and practice with the elements to keep her magic stable. Before the wedding, the Duke was to wash in mountain spring

"Madam!" "Madam!" The screams echoed from below. Every eye was fixed on the castle’s highest tower, where a woman in a blood-stained white gown stood precariously on the edge. Selene Moreau Leventis was the Duchess of Leventis. She was a woman known for her quiet, submissive nature. But now, she was standing in the most dangerous of places. The guards behind her moved with agonizing caution, fearing that a single misplaced step would send her plunging into the abyss.

Sush included, raising her to-go coffee cup to Lucy’s statement when she read it over lunch, finding humor in those words since she wasn’t at the receiving end. Sush sensed then - just as she was sure now - the duke’s character wasn’t fully captured by the media. She may not know the duke, but she knew the queen. That woman may be nice to anyone in general - provided one didn’t piss her off - but she was highly selective of her inner circle. If the duke was in her inner circle now, it only meant he was - at the very least - tolerable.

Perhaps she would perish from humiliation where she stood. “Oh! My Lady, forgive me,” the serving woman gasped, dropping into a frantic curtsy. Inside the chamber, the conversation stopped as though severed with a blade. The Duke appeared first, his dark eyes fixing on her face with uncomfortable intensity. Understanding passed between them. He knew she had been listening. She knew he knew. “Lady Loren, you seem to have lost your way.” “I was returning to my chambers,” she managed, her voice admirably steady considering her dignity had just died in a corridor.