The Devious Seduction 0f A Wayward Duke (Steamy Historical Romance)
The Devious Seduction of a Wayward Duke
A Steamy Regency Romance
Olivia Bennet
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
An Immoral Dilemma for the Scandalous Lady
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Also by Olivia Bennet
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 Daring Fantasies of a Noble 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.
With love and appreciation,
Olivia Bennet
About the Book
The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it...
Raised on the streets, Priscilla Ainsley always needed to fight to make ends meet. When the opportunity to work as a governess in the Duke of Dowding’s household presents itself, she is quick to grasp it.
A widower for over a decade, Oliver Fulton, Duke of Dowding, has dedicated his life to his thriving whiskey business. In desperate need of a governess for his mischievous son, the appearance of one ravishing Priscilla Ainsley comes as a blessing. Little does he know that the arrival of his new employee will mark the beginning of a troublesome era.
As their attraction grows fiercer, so do the threats against the Duke’s household.
And then Priscilla receives a grim ultimatum: steal the Duke's secret whiskey recipe or send both him and his son to their doom.
Chapter 1
Oliver Fulton, the Duke of Dowding, sighed, and then turned to his steward.
“Your Grace, I’m sorry for interrupting you while you are working.”
“It’s fine,” Oliver replied, lifting his head and turning towards the voice of Gerard Wright, the steward who had served him for the past decade. Oliver saw the short, stout, greying, and balding man before him. “What has Jamie done now?”
Oliver watched as Wright’s face fell. He heard him clear his throat, and then the steward began to speak. “I’m not wholly sure, Your Grace, but Miss Collins has resigned, effective immediately. I tried to talk to her, but she has been unyielding. I have asked her to wait in the drawing room, as I wasn’t sure if you wanted to speak with her.”
Oliver sighed again and ran his fingers through his short, curly dark hair, which actually enhanced the Caesar cut, and then rubbed his blue eyes, as he tried to remain calm.
“This is what? The fifth governess who has resigned?” Oliver asked Wright.
“I believe so, Your Grace. She was certainly not happy after Lord Seton left the newts in her desk, and I daresay he has done something similar this time around.”
“My son, the mischief maker. I just cannot understand why he does this all the time. I know he is only ten years old, but I worry that he is heading down a perilous path.”
Wright didn’t respond, but Oliver was only making a statement, and he didn’t expect a response. He then looked at his steward and said, “Wright, please extend my apologies to Miss Collins, and then find my son and bring him here.”
“Of course, Your Grace. I will come back shortly.”
Oliver’s office was located in the west wing of the manor, and it was the furthest part of the home from the main living area. There was a large mahogany desk in the corner, which contained several drawers. Oliver sat at this desk and stared at the center drawer, focusing on the lock.
Contained within that drawer, which was locked with a key that Oliver kept hidden, was the family recipe for the famed whisky that he made in his distillery. This recipe had been passed down for generations and had passed from his father to him. Someday, he would pass it down to Jamie, but that had him worried. If the boy was generally naughty right now at the age of ten, he could be well out of control by the time he was of age to take over the distillery.
Oliver stood and walked over to the round wooden table in the center of the room. There were four chairs around it, and currently, there were several piles of orders for whisky from his many customers.
The distillery was known across England for its high-quality whisky, and Oliver was proud of the legacy that he would leave to his son. However, if Jamie didn’t start acting like a young gentleman, the distillery, which had been around for decades, could be in dire straits.
Oliver flipped through the orders and saw many familiar names. He had worked in this industry for most of his five-and-thirty years, and some of his customers had been customers of his father, too.
Even as a youngster, he remembered coming to this very same office and watching his father and uncle do the same job he did today. For Jamie, however, it was rare for him to venture over to this side of the manor, and he seemed much more focused on playing pranks.
Oliver continued to sort orders as he waited for Wright to return. He wondered if he should have spoken with Miss Collins, at least to apologize for his son’s behavior, but he preferred to let Wright handle the staffing issues. He had enough to deal with, including the distillery, and now he had to find a new governess.
He was well-practiced on hiring a governess now, as this was not the first time it had happened, and Oliver would once again have to start the process. In the meantime, he would ask Wright to assign a member of staff to teach Jamie something educational, or perhaps he would invite his son to watch him work. That could give him a taste of what working in the distilling business was like.
Oliver heard a knock on the door.
“Enter,” he said as he looked up.
The door opened slowly and without even seeing who was turning the knob, he knew that it was his son. Wright would have opened it much more quickly.
Oliver saw the familiar curly blond hair of his son before he saw Jamie’s face, and then he was met with eyes the same color as his own. His son had gotten that curly blond hair from his mother, which was always one of Oliver’s favorite features of his late wife, Leah, who had passed away during childbirth. It always saddened him that Jamie had never met his mother.
“James,” Oliver said with authority. He wanted Jamie to know that he meant business, and using his given name was always a good way to establish that.
Oliver watched as Jamie opened the door all of the way and stepped into the office. “Your Grace?” he said with a crooked smile. “You asked to see me?”
Oliver remained stern, even as Jamie smiled. His son’s smile was the other thing he had gotten from his mother, and it still startled Oliver to see it.
“Please sit a
t the table,” Oliver said, motioning for his son to sit. “We have to discuss what happened with Miss Collins today.”
Jamie nodded and took a seat at the large mahogany table which matched the desk. Oliver walked around the table and sat down across from his son, making sure that he kept the stern expression that was needed during this situation.
“Tell me what happened, James. Why did Miss Collins resign from her position today?”
Jamie paused for a moment, and kept his eyes pointed towards the tabletop. “I don’t know, Father,” he said quietly.
“You don’t know? Are you telling me that your governess simply quit for no reason?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t tell me her reason for quitting.”
Oliver felt himself getting angry. His son was smart and had a quick wit. Oliver always thought that it would serve him well one day, but today, when Oliver was on the receiving end of it, he wasn’t impressed.
“James,” Oliver said a bit louder. “Please do not lie to me. I want to know what you did, or what prank you set up, to make poor Miss Collins leave.”
Jamie was quiet now, and Oliver could almost see him trying to come up with an excuse. “Well? Do you have an answer? I want the truth from you.”
“Fine.” Oliver could tell that his son looked defeated. “I locked her out of the school room, and then when she finally got in, I had covered her chair with orange marmalade, so that when she sat down, it would be sticky.”
Oliver shook his head as he listened. “Where did you get the marmalade?”
“From the breakfast table, of course,” Jamie said, seemingly proud of himself.
“I am very disappointed in you,” Oliver said with a frown. “Why would you do something like this?” He was interested to hear his son’s motive.
Jamie shrugged. “I suppose I did it because I thought it would be funny.”
Again, Oliver shook his head. “Well, it’s not funny, Jamie. Not only did you damage someone else’s property, but you once again caused a governess to leave.”
“She wasn’t very fun, anyway.”
“Fun? A governess isn’t supposed to be fun, Jamie. She is supposed to teach you.”
“I don’t know why she can’t be fun and teach me at the same time,” Jamie replied, now sulking.
Oliver couldn’t help but think that his son had a point, but that was neither here nor there. “Jamie. What am I supposed to do? Keep hiring one governess after another? I went through my whole childhood and I had only one governess the entire time. You are only ten years of age, and you have now had five. To be frank, that is totally unacceptable.”
Jamie shrugged again, but Oliver could tell that he was now ashamed of his actions, as his pale cheeks began to redden.
Oliver continued. “So, until I find a new governess, you are to report to this office every morning following breakfast. You won’t be having fun. Instead of your lessons, you will learn about the family business.”
* * *
The following morning, Oliver spent a bit of time explaining to his son how whisky was made, and how the distillery worked.
“How do you know how to make it?” Jamie asked. Oliver could see that there was a bit of interest in his son’s eyes, which he took as a very good sign.
“You make it just like you would make a cake or some soup. There is a recipe.”
“May I see the recipe?” Jamie asked with an impish smile.
Oliver couldn’t help but give a slight smile back to him. “No. Though you may see it someday.”
“But why not now?”
“Because it is a secret recipe, and it’s not here.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s in the house, and that’s all you need to know for now,” Oliver said. “Now, as I was saying, some of these barrels must sit for many years. Come with me, and I’ll show you something special.”
Oliver saw Jamie’s face brighten up, and he motioned for his son to follow him. Oliver walked through the shelves of barrels, nodding and greeting the staff as they moved further into the distillery. At the end of the main walkway, Oliver turned to the left, and saw a smaller shelf holding barrels. He led Jamie right up to the shelf, and then stopped and turned to his son.
“Do you know what these are?” Oliver asked.
“Whisky,” Jamie replied.
Oliver laughed. “Yes. It’s whisky. But, it’s a special whisky. This whisky was placed in these barrels by your grandfather, my father, whom you never met. They have been sitting here in the distillery for more than twenty years.”
Oliver could see that Jamie was trying to process that. “Before I took over the distillery, your grandfather and his brother were running it. Before them, your great-grandfather. As you know, Son, this distillery has been in the family for many years, and someday, you will run it, of course.”
Jamie nodded. Perhaps this was a lot for him to process.
“These are the oldest barrels we have, and soon, we will place the whisky in bottles, and sell it. Though these barrels are all different ages, so we will do one at a time.”
“How do you know how old they are?”
“Do you see these marks on the barrel?” Oliver pointed at the top of one of the barrels where there was a series of scorch marks. “Those markings are a type of code that only we know. That tells us how old the whisky is.”
“How old is that barrel?” Jamie asked.
“This particular barrel is two-and-twenty years old. I think we will let it age for about three more years, until it is five-and-twenty years old.”
“Does that make it taste better?” Oliver was pleased that his son was taking such an interest in whisky making.
“It does. Someday I will let you taste the difference between these older barrels and the newer ones. But, for now, these barrels have to sit a bit longer.”
* * *
Oliver sat in the sitting room, sipping on a glass of sherry. He was pleased with how the day had gone with Jamie, and he hoped that his son had a better understanding of the family legacy. He had to admit to himself that he had enjoyed the day with Jamie, and perhaps he should attempt to spend more time with him.
Jamie continued to ask questions about the distillery at dinner, and Oliver was more than happy to answer him. Tomorrow, he would talk to Wright about finding a new governess. His time had gotten away from him today, but he knew that he would have to start the process, as it could take several days or even longer.
“Your Grace?”
Oliver turned towards the voice. It was a footman with a letter on a tray.
“This arrived for you while you were dining,” the footman said. He walked towards Oliver and presented the silver tray to him.
Oliver took the letter and said, “Thank you.”
He turned the letter over, and Oliver noticed a seal that looked familiar, though he couldn’t quite place it. He slid his finger under the flap and opened it. He quickly glanced at the bottom of the letter, and he saw that it was from the Baron of Kenley. Ah, that’s why the seal looked familiar.
He and Lord Kenley had done business in the past, and Oliver knew that he was a shrewd businessman. But Oliver also knew that Lord Kenley sometimes had great inventory at wonderful prices, and he had a good business sense. Of course, on the other side of that, Lord Kenley was also known for slippery business tactics where he came out on top, and if you were not careful, you could lose a lot of money.
Oliver began to read the letter, and it was asking for an appointment. Obviously, Lord Kenley had some type of business venture for him. He folded up the paper and turned to face the footman.
“Please ask Wright to inform Lord Kenley that I am available tomorrow or the day after,” Oliver instructed. “I know it’s late, so this can wait until the morning.”
“Of course, Your Grace,” the footman turned and left the room.
Oliver settled back into his chair, and once again took a sip of his sherry. He started thinking, but he couldn’t qui
te guess what Lord Kenley might want with him. He supposed he would find out soon.
He took one final sip, drained his glass, and placed it on the marble-topped table next to him. Oliver knew tomorrow would be another long day, so he stood up and began to make his way to his quarters.