A Diamond for a Duke Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Quote

  Copyright

  Get Your FREE Digital Starter Library!

  Other Collette Cameron Books

  Dedication

  Acknowledgements

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  From the Desk of Collette Cameron

  Enjoy the first chapter of A KISS FOR MISS KINGSLEY

  A DIAMOND FOR A DUKE

  Seductive Scoundrels Book One

  By

  COLLETTE CAMERON

  Blue Rose Romance®

  Portland, Oregon

  Sweet-to-Spicy Timeless Romance®

  “Once I set my mind to something,

  I am seldom dissuaded. I mean to court you.”

  "Collette Cameron has outdone herself with this delightful romance."

  Laura Landon, Bestselling Author

  A Diamond for a Duke

  Copyright © 2017 by Collette Cameron

  Cover Design by Kim Killion

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By downloading or purchasing a print copy of this book, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this book. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without the express written permission of copyright owner.

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  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publish­er, except where permitted by law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

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  Portland, Oregon 97203

  ISBN eBook: 978-1944973315

  ISBN Paperback: 978-1944973445

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  A Waltz with a Rogue Series

  A Kiss for Miss Kingsley

  Bride of Falcon

  Her Scandalous Wish

  To Tame a Scoundrel’s Heart

  The Wallflower’s Wicked Wager

  Earl of Wainthorpe

  A Rose for a Rogue

  Castle Brides Series

  The Viscount’s Vow

  Heart of a Highlander (prequel to Highlander’s Hope)

  Highlander’s Hope

  The Earl’s Enticement

  The Blue Rose Regency Romances: The Culpepper Misses Series

  The Earl and the Spinster

  The Marquis and the Vixen

  The Lord and the Wallflower

  The Buccaneer and the Bluestocking

  The Lieutenant and the Lady

  Heart of a Scot Series

  To Love a Highland Rogue

  Highland Heather Romancing a Scot Series

  Triumph and Treasure

  Virtue and Valor

  Heartbreak and Honor

  Scandal’s Splendor

  Passion and Plunder

  Seductive Surrender

  Seductive Scoundrels Series

  A Diamond for a Duke

  Only a Duke Would Dare

  Boxed Sets

  Embraced by a Rogue

  To Love a Reckless Lord

  When a Lord Loves a Lady

  Stand-Alones

  Heart of a Highlander

  Earl of Wainthorpe

  For everyone, everywhere who’s experienced abuse;

  Sending you love, peace, hope, and healing.

  I must thank the authors of Regency Ever After for inviting me to participate in their historical bundle, for which A Diamond for a Duke was originally written. At first I wasn’t certain I could create a Regency novel based on a fairy tale, but I did!

  And it launched the Seductive Scoundrels series!

  I’d be remiss if I didn’t thank Louisa Cornell for her meticulous editing and my Beta Babes for faithfully taking the time to read and give me feedback on Jules and Jemmah’s story. Also a special thanks to Kim Killion for creating the gasp-worthy cover and Laura Landon for her gracious cover quote!

  You know I adore you!

  xoxo

  “A Diamond for a Duke” is loosely based on Charles Perrault’s 1697 French fairytale, “Les Fées" or “The Fairies,” also known as “Toads and Diamonds” or “Diamonds and Toads.” I’d never heard of this tale until I began research for an unusual fable to base a Regency novella upon.

  As in Perrault’s tale, there are two sisters, Adelinda Dament, the eldest—contentious, self-centered, rude, and who values all things related to the socially elite. Metaphorically speaking, because of her inner ugliness, her words manifest as vipers and toads. The sisters’ mother, Belinda, blatantly favors Adelinda, who resembles her in looks, attitude, and behavior.

  Jemmah, the younger sister, is portrayed as gentler, kinder, and as someone who cares more about people than their status. She possesses a beautiful soul, and when she speaks, her words spill forth as jewels and flowers. She, too, is banished from her home, as is the younger daughter in “Diamonds and Toads.”

  The fairy takes the form of two feisty characters, Faye, the Dowager Viscountess Lockhart, and the Viscountess Theodora Lockhart. Theodora is Adelinda and Jemmah’s aunt, and godmother to Jules, the sixth Duke of Dandridge. He plays the role of the hero and has his own nemesis to contend with in the form of Phryne Milbourne.

  My quirky humor worked overtime when I selected the characters’ names. Several of them were chosen specifically for their meanings:

  Adelinda - noble snake

  Belinda - beautiful snake

  Charmont - charming

  Dament - diamond

  Jasper - bringer of treasure

  Jemmah - gem

  Jules - well, it sounds like jewels!

  Faye - Fairy

  Phryne - toad

  A final thought about “A Diamond for a Duke”...

  In today’s culture, Belinda would be considered an abusive parent—unfortunately, a common and often accepted motif threaded throughout fairytales of old, as was parental partiality. The authenticity of my tale required both of these unpleasant themes.

  I want to encourage everyone who has experienced or is experiencing abuse that, as in the fairytale and my novella, there is hope for you.
r />   Help is available in many forms.

  Please ... please, don’t wait another day to seek it.

  April 1809

  London, England

  A pox on duty.

  A plague on the pesky dukedom too.

  Not the tiniest speck of remorse troubled Jules, Duke of Dandridge as he bolted from the crush of his godmother, Theodora, Viscountess Lockhart’s fiftieth birthday ball—without bidding the dear lady a proper farewell, at that.

  She’d forgive his discourtesy; his early departure too.

  Unlike his mother, his uncles, and the majority of le beau monde, Theo understood him.

  To honor her, he’d put in a rare social appearance and even stood up for the obligatory dances expected of someone of his station. Through sheer doggedness, he’d also forced his mouth to curve upward—good God, his face ached from the effort—and suffered the toady posturing of husband-stalking mamas and their bevy of pretty, wide-eyed offspring eager to snare an unattached duke.

  Noteworthy, considering not so very long ago, Jules scarcely merited a passing glance from the same tonnish females now so keen to garner his favor. His perpetual scowl might be attributed to their disinterest.

  Tonight’s worst offender?

  Theo’s irksome sister-in-law, Mrs. Dament.

  The tenacious woman had neatly maneuvered her admittedly stunning elder daughter, Adelinda, to his side multiple times, and only the Daments’ intimate connection to Theo had kept him from turning on his heel at the fourth instance instead of graciously fetching mother and daughter the ratafia they’d requested.

  A rather uncouth mental dialogue accompanied his march to the refreshment table, nonetheless.

  Where was the other daughter—the sweet-tempered one, Miss Jemmah Dament?

  Twiddling her thumbs at home again? Poor, kind, neglected sparrow of a thing.

  As children and adolescents, he and Jemmah had been comfortable friends, made so by their similar distressing circumstances. But as must be, they’d grown up, and destiny or fate had placed multiple obstacles between them. He trotted off to university—shortly afterward becoming betrothed to Annabel—and for a time, the Daments simply faded from his and society’s notice.

  Oh, on occasion, Jules had spied Jemmah in passing. But she’d ducked her shiny honey-colored head and averted her acute sky-blue gaze. Almost as if she was discomfited or he’d somehow offended her.

  Yet, after wracking his brain, he couldn’t deduce what his transgression might’ve been.

  At those times, recalling their prior relaxed companionship, his ability to talk to her about anything—or simply remain in compatible silence, an odd twinge pinged behind his ribs. Not regret exactly, though he hardly knew what to label the disquieting sensation.

  Quite simply, he missed her friendship and company.

  Since Theo’s brother, Jasper, died two years ago, Jules had seen little of the Daments.

  According to tattle, their circumstances had been drastically reduced. But even so, Jemmah’s absence at routs, soirees, and other ton gatherings, which her mother and sister often attended, raised questions and eyebrows.

  At least arced Jules’s brow and stirred his curiosity.

  If Jemmah were present at more assemblies, perhaps he’d make more of an effort to put in an appearance.

  Or perhaps not.

  He held no illusions about his lack of social acumen. A deficiency he had no desire to remedy.

  Ever.

  A trio of ladies rounded the corner, and he dove into a niche beside a vase-topped table.

  The Chinese urn tottered, and he clamped the blue and white china between both hands, lest it crash to the floor and expose him.

  He needn’t have worried.

  So engrossed in their titillating gossip about whether Lord Bacon wore stays, none of the women was the least aware of his presence as they sailed past.

  Mentally patting himself on the back for his exceptionally civil behavior for the past pair of vexing hours, Jules permitted a self-satisfied smirk and stepped back into the corridor. He nearly collided with Theo’s aged mother-in-law, the Dowager Viscountess Lockhart, come to town for her daughter-in-law’s birthday.

  A tuft of glossy black ostrich feathers adorned her hair, the tallest of which poked him in the eye.

  Hell’s bells.

  “I beg your pardon, my lady.”

  Eye watering, Jules grasped her frail elbow, steadying her before she toppled over, such did she sway.

  She chuckled, a soft crackle like delicate old lace, and squinted up at him, her faded eyes, the color of weak tea, snapping with mirth.

  “Bolting, are you, Dandridge?”

  Saucy, astute old bird.

  Nothing much escaped Faye, Dowager Viscountess Lockhart’s notice.

  “I prefer to call it making a prudently-timed departure.”

  Which he’d be forced to abandon in order to assist the tottering dame back to her preferred throne—er, seat—in the ballroom.

  He’d congratulated himself prematurely, blast it.

  “Allow me to escort you, Lady Lockhart.”

  He daren’t imply she needed his help, or she’d turn her tart tongue, and likely her china-handled cane, on him too.

  “Flim flam. Don’t be an utter nincompoop. You mightn’t have another opportunity to flee. Go on with you now.” She pointed her cane down the deserted passageway. “I’ll contrive some drivel to explain your disappearance.”

  “I don’t need a justification.”

  Beyond that he was bored to his polished shoes, he’d rather munch fresh horse manure than carry on anymore inane conversation, and crowds made him nervous as hell.

  Always had.

  Hence his infrequent appearances.

  Pure naughtiness sparked in the dowager’s eyes as she put a bony finger to her chin as if seriously contemplating what shocking tale she’d spin.

  “What excuse should I use? Perhaps an abduction? Hmph. Not believable.” She shook her head, and the ostrich feather danced in agreement. “An elopement? No, no. Won’t do at all. Too dull and predictable.”

  She jutted her finger skyward, nearly poking his other eye.

  “Ah, ha! I have just the thing. A scandalous assignation. With a secret love. Oh, yes, that’ll do nicely.”

  A decidedly teasing smile tipped her thin lips.

  Jules vacillated.

  She was right, of course.

  If he didn’t make good his escape now, he mightn’t be able to for hours. Still, his conscience chafed at leaving her to hobble her way to the ballroom alone. For all of his darkling countenance and brusque comportment, he was still a gentleman first.

  Lady Lockhart extracted her arm, and then poked him in the bicep with her pointy nail.

  Hard.

  “Go, I said, young scamp.” Only she would dare call a duke a scamp. “I assure you, I’m not so infirm that I’m incapable of walking the distance without tumbling onto my face.”

  Maybe not her face, but what about the rest of her feeble form?

  Her crepey features softened, and the beauty she’d once been peeked through the ravages of age. “It was good of you to come, Dandridge, and I know it meant the world to Theodora.” The imp returned full on, and she bumped her cane’s tip against his instep. “Now git yourself gone.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Jules lifted her hand, and after kissing the back, waited a few moments to assess her progress. If she struggled the least, he’d lay aside his plans and disregard her command.

  A few feet along the corridor, she paused, half-turning toward him. Starchy silvery eyebrow raised, she mouthed, “Move your arse.”

  With a sharp salute, Jules complied and continued to reflect on his most successful venture into society in a great while.

  Somehow—multiple glasses of superb champagne might be attributed to helping—he’d even managed to converse—perhaps a little less courteously than the majority of attendees, but certainly not as tersely as he was
generally wont to—with the young bucks, dandies, and past-their-prime decrepitudes whose trivial interests consisted of horseflesh, the preposterous wagers on Whites’s books, and the next bit of feminine fluff they might sample.

  Or, in the older, less virile coves’ cases, the unfortunate woman subjected to their lusty ogling since the aged chaps’ softer parts were wont to stay that way.

  Only the welcome presence of the two men whom Jules might truly call ‘friend,’ Maxwell, Duke of Pennington, and Victor, Duke of Sutcliffe, had made the evening, if not pleasant, undoubtedly more interesting with their barbed humor and ongoing litany of drolly murmured sarcastic observations.

  Compared to that acerbic pair, Jules, renowned for his acute intellect and grave mien, seemed quite the epitome of frivolous jollity.

  But, by spitting camels, when his uncles, Leopold and Darius—from whom his middle names had been derived—had cornered him in the card room and demanded to know for the third time this month when he intended to do his ducal duty?

  Marry and produce an heir...

  Damn their interfering eyes!

  Jules’s rigidly controlled temper had slipped loose of its moorings, and he’d told them—ever so calmly, but also enunciating each syllable most carefully lest the mulish, bacon-brained pair misunderstand a single word—“go bugger yourselves and leave me be!”

  He’d been officially betrothed once and nearly so a second time in his five-and-twenty years. Never again.

  Never?

  Fine, maybe someday. But not to a Society damsel and not for many, many years or before he had concluded the parson’s mousetrap was both necessary and convenient. Should that fateful day never come to pass, well, best his Charmont uncles get busy producing male heirs themselves instead of dallying with actresses and opera singers.