A Duke in Her Bonnet: A Historical Regency Romance Novel
A Duke in Her Bonnet
A Historical Regency Romance Novel
Hanna Hamilton
Edited by
Robin Spencer
Contents
A Thank You Gift
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Epilogue
Extended Epilogue
The Perks of Being a Duke
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Also by Hanna Hamilton
About the Author
A Thank You Gift
Thanks a lot for purchasing my book. It really means a lot to me, because this is the best way to show me your love.
As a Thank You gift I have written a full length novel for you called A True Lady. It’s only available to people who have downloaded one of my books and you can get your free copy by tapping this link here.
Once more, thanks a lot for your love and support.
Hanna Hamilton
About the Book
For the fruit, which is forbidden, is the sweetest of them all.
With the most disastrous coming-out ball the ton has ever seen, Susana Alvin, ward of the well-respected Duke of Bainton, must face not only her guardian’s fury but also the dawning realization that she might remain a spinster forever.
William Nielson, former captain of the Royal Navy, is hard-pressed to admit that his feelings for his brother’s captivating ward have shifted in a tremendous way since they were children.
Forced to endure gruelling lessons to turn her into a proper lady and conflicted about her feelings for William, Susana finds her escape in the form of a charming suitor who has come to sweep her off her feet.
But the devil comes as everything you’ve ever wished for, and Susana and William just might be fighting a losing battle. For their enemy holds not only power but also precious knowledge of who Susana’s parents really are…
Chapter 1
After her coming-out party in March of 1812, Susana Alvin's bosom would be the talk of London society.
Attired in one of the most splendid, pale blue silk gowns money could buy, with white feathers in her hair and jewels on the toes of her shoes, Susana clutched a cup of ice—shaved ice, flavored with syrup, and colored an appetizing shade of red by hibiscus petals and roses. It was a charming refreshment and one of her favorite things to eat.
Just a few hours into her coming-out party, people were already gossiping in hushed voices. She had consumed one ice already and was well into her second. It was not proper for a lady of breeding to eat so much, and in public no less, but Susana could not help herself. It was beyond delicious, and such a rare treat.
“You would think she had been half-starved,” Lady Dillinger murmured to her friend, Lady Grainger. They were older in years than Susana, and thusly thought themselves blessed with a divine right to judge others without hesitation.
“It is turning her lips an alarming shade of red, would you not say? Why, she looks as though she has smeared rouge upon her mouth. It is most distracting.” Lady Grainger chuckled cruelly, but Susana paid them no heed. This was a party in her honor, after all, and she was determined to enjoy it. Ice and all.
“I wonder the Duke does not stop her, before the color stains.” Lady Dillinger tutted, both of them casting disapproving looks at the young lady.
“I should say it is a matter of indulgence, judging by the way she is devouring it,” Lady Grainger interjected.
“It is such a pity when young ladies are indulged,” Lady Dillinger agreed.
The Duke had invited seemingly everyone in England to the party, and the club they had hired for the event—Almack's, of course—was full to the brim with revelers. The early spring weather was changeful, mild during the day then cold at night, so the fires had all been lit and stoked, but the temperature that evening stayed comparatively warm. Consequently, the air inside the club was close, and far too hot, with far too many people all pressed in together.
Susana felt faint already, despite the cooling refreshment of her icy treat. To put the ice down was to eschew her only physical comfort, and though she might have benefited from taking some air, she was obliged to be sociable and could not yet find the time to graciously escape to the balcony for a few moments.
Everywhere she turned, someone was eager to engage her in conversation, for the Duke of Bainton's ward had, heretofore, been a mysterious creature, oft-sheltered and seldom seen, and all of London society wanted to unearth her mysteries.
Even rumors about her had been scant, for the Duke was of unimpeachable moral character, and would say but little of his ward in public. Consequently, Susana had become an enigmatic figure, indeed. All that was known of her, was that she had red hair, and the most unfortunate freckled skin, but that she was otherwise, to hear the Duke put it, “lovely to look upon, indeed.”
From this remark, it had been supposed that the Duke might marry her himself, but the Duke had put all such suppositions to rest by declaring adamantly that he was through with marrying, after the untimely death of his beloved wife.
“I would not say she is anything remarkable,” one of the younger ladies, Lady Bernadette, the daughter of Lady Moleston, remarked to her two companions: Lady Igraine and Lady Lucille. All three had recently enjoyed their own entrances into society and did not like the scent of fresh competition for the eligible gentlemen hereabouts.
“I was thinking quite the same thing, Lady Bernadette,” Lady Igraine murmured. They were making little endeavor to be discreet, much to Susana’s embarrassment.
“All of this hullabaloo, over a rather strange creature.” Lady Lucille giggled. “Why, she almost looks as though the Duke had been hiding her beneath a rock, would you not say?”
“You are awful, Lady Lucille!” Lady Bernadette shrieked delightedly.
“Perhaps he kept her in such secrecy because he knew she ate like a prize sow,” Lady Lucille continued, at Susana’s expense. The three ladies erupted into raucous laughter, making Susana’s freckled cheeks burn.
The coming-out party of the mysterious ward was one of the most-anticipated events of the season. Everyone who was anyone was in attendance to meet Susana, to speak to her, of course, and cast their aspersions. The mothers and fathers wanted to see whether she was marriageable, whether she would do credit to the Nielsen name, and whether she could navigate the turbulent waters of London society as deftly as did the Duke of Bainton and his younger brother.
The daughters of the ton, however, wished to look upon their new rival and measure themselves against her. Meanwhile, the sons were keen to catch a glimpse of the enigma, to see if she was fair enough and charming enough to engage in a dance.
“There is a peculiar beauty about her,” Lord Exford said to his acquaintance, Captain Jeffers.
“It is a shame about her freckles, for I imagine she would h
ave a smooth complexion if it were not for them,” Lord Exford replied.
“Will you engage her in a dance?”
Lord Exford shrugged. “Perhaps. I shall see how I feel after one or two more snifters of brandy. I may be able to look beyond the Celtic demeanor of her after that.”
For her own part, Susana did not care so much about how she was received, but more about doing credit to her guardian, the Duke. The Duke had taken her in as a small child and had been very generous in rearing her as one of their own family. He was not loving or kind, but, as the Nielsens had no girls of their own that generation, seemed to feel she could be an asset to the family by marrying advantageously, as the Duke was quite socially ambitious.
Consequently, he had taken pains to mold her into a genteel young lady who would be attractive to the aristocracy, perhaps even to someone of the royal peerage—for the Duke of Bainton was not a royal duke, though wealthy and powerful in his own right. Though his treatment of her had been harsh at times, she wanted to thank him for all his generosity by coming out graciously, and by being an asset to the Nielsen family, rather than a liability, as a ward was often assumed to be.
So it was that Susana suffered that night in late March, scarcely able to breathe for the overwhelming press of bodies in the ballroom in Pall Mall, clutching at her ice with pristine white silk gloves on her hands. She feared the syrup might stain them, but she could not set it down now.
An elderly woman dressed in lavish mourning black was talking to her, the words washing over Susana in waves. She could scarcely focus on what was being said, and, it hardly seemed to matter. The less that she said to these people, it seemed, the more charmed they were by her.
“What do you make of this season’s fashions? Do you agree with my sentiments regarding ribbons?” The elderly woman stared at her expectantly, a fan bobbing in front of her pruny old face.
“Um… yes, I quite agree.” She did not know what she was agreeing to, for she had not been listening. But it seemed to please the elderly lady well enough.
“A lady’s figure should be kept discreetly covered.” The elderly lady nodded, arching an eyebrow as she looked upon the daring cut of Susana’s neckline.
“Hmm? Oh, yes, of course,” Susana replied, lowering her spoon to take up another mouthful of ice. It tapped the glass bottom with a tinkle that sounded as if she wished to make a speech. The ice was gone. She looked down at the empty vessel in horror. “Excuse me, Lady… Linnet, I must attend on an urgent matter.” She was struggling to remember all these names.
“As you prefer,” Lady Linnet replied, pursing her wrinkled lips.
Grateful to be excused from the lady's presence, she slipped away between the bodies to find another ice. Otherwise, she was certain to faint.
As she went, weaving between gentlemen in military dress—friends of the Duke's, no doubt—someone grabbed her arm. A vile rebuke rose up in Susana's throat, for she had accepted that she might be treated like property in certain ways by certain people, but she would be damned if she would let a person's rank permit them to violate her person in any way—whether it was a grab of the arm, or anything else.
She whirled, her cheeks puffed up in righteous indignation, her immaculately groomed brows drawn down over flashing green eyes, but the words died in her throat when she met the smiling face of William Nielsen, the Duke's younger brother, and the person dearest in the world to her heart.
“William!” she cried, shoving past someone to throw her arms around him. “Oh, my dear brother, how I've missed you!”
“You did not think I would miss your coming-out party?” William grinned, and took a step back. “Let me look at you, little Susie. Why, if I am not mistaken, you look half a lady!”
“Only half?” she said, feigning a pout. “I let your brother do all sorts of horrible things to me, so that I would look fully a lady.”
“With a face like this,” said William, touching her cheek, “you may wear whatever dress you like, but you shall always be a little chickadee.”
“And you! You have become quite the gentleman!” said Susana, surveying him from crown to toe. A strange feeling came over her as she scrutinized William's person. He had been away for some months at sea, a member of the Royal Navy as all the Nielsen men were, and had obliged her by coming to the party dressed like a proper military gentleman.
His coat was deep blue, with gold braiding intricately stitched all over, which set off the golden, sun-kissed highlights in his lovely mahogany-colored hair. The blue of his coat made his chocolate-colored eyes look almost black. He had grown leaner and stronger since she last saw him, and something about the look in his eyes made it seem as though he had lost his juvenile mischief.
Indeed, Lord William Nielsen had become a true gentleman, and the shine of his black military boots told her so.
“I have done my best not to grow up quite so much,” said William, offering her his arm. “But six months on a battleship... it does affect a man, whether he wants it to or not.”
“Oh, Will, was it very awful?” Susana said, slipping her hand about his arm. William had always been hearty and much larger than she, but Susana could not help noticing that his arm was bigger than before, and much harder. Like an arm of stone. Her heart fluttered in an alarming way, and she gave Will's bicep a discreet squeeze.
“Yes,” he said simply, looking distant for a moment. Then, he seemed to come back to himself, and gave his head a shake. “But, Susie-chickadee, let us not talk of such things. Tonight is a celebration of you, and your entry as a member of polite society!”
“I am not sure how polite they are,” Susana muttered, hoping that Will was the only one who heard. She could not forget their secretive taunts. “But, it is quite a celebration. For such a solemn man, your brother has quite the talent for organizing social gatherings.”
“Indeed he does,” said Will. “Where is old Richard, by the way?”
“Much to his regret, he could not attend.” Susana frowned a little. “His health has been troubling him this winter, far worse than usual. He is ill in bed with a terrible cough.”
“Poor bastard,” William said under his breath.
“Will!” Susana laughed, aghast. “Such a thing to say of your own brother!”
The handsome young sailor only shrugged, letting Susana lead him to the refreshments, where she chose another glass of ice. Several pairs of eyes flickered at her in disapproval, and Susana keenly felt their gaze.
“This is my third cup,” she confessed to William in a low voice. “But I fear if I stop eating it, I shall faint. It is so unbearably hot in here!”
“You must realize that the ice is spiked with cordial?” Will snickered. “Not only will they think you a glutton, but a drunk as well!”
“But I cannot even taste it! Are you sure?” Now that he mentioned it, Susana did feel a trifle merry.
But she hardly had time to worry about it, for at that moment, a string quartet had assembled at the far end of the ballroom and were plucking and tuning their instruments in preparation for the first dances of the night. Mutters of excitement rippled throughout the crowd, and Susana hurried to finish her ice, for she knew she would be expected to dance, and dance, and dance.
All of London's most eligible bachelors were in attendance—as well as many of London's less-eligible bachelors who had, somehow or other, incurred an invitation either by relation or by default.
“Come, give me your first dance!” William said, leading her to the dance floor.
Susana had promised her first dance to half a dozen different gentlemen, not at all considering the logistical implications. Her chaperone, an easily distracted young woman by the name of Emilia, had vanished almost as soon as she had made her entrance into the party, leaving her to contend with all of this by herself.
Where can she have disappeared to? She scoured the crowd, just in case she happened to spot Emilia, but the woman could still not be found. Very well, then I shall have to manage
alone. Besides, now she had William to aid her.
Overwhelmed by the number of people and the press of conversations, she had found herself inundated. Presently, however, she forgot about all of them, as she smiled and nodded and let William lead her to the floor, handily ignoring the other gentlemen who had begun to stalk her, to claim their dance.
While it might have been said that Miss Alvin was lacking in some of the finer social graces, everyone in attendance that night was forced to admit that she was a formidable dancer. Once the music began, the lovely young girl with the fiery red hair and awkward country charm, transformed into a whirling bluebird of enviable grace and skill.