A Villain for a Duke | Paperback

One mistake cost her everything, including love

Lady Astrid made one reckless mistake at a house party and became a pariah. Instead of cowering under society’s censure, she embraces her inner villain. Why not flirt with scandal? Especially if scandal is her handsome-and-fun-to-tease first indiscretion.

Never had Michael’s sins haunted him so relentlessly. When Astrid becomes the target for a matchmaking maven, the cold, uptight Duke of Tinsder has to double his efforts to avoid the wanton woman. Which should be easy, so long as he doesn’t accidentally walk into her room late one night…

Can Michael keep his feet on the straight and narrow? Or will the heart’s pull between opposites recapture their true love?

Read A Villain for a Duke if you love the magic of Christmas. It’s a deliciously sweet and spicy easy read with witty banter and lovable characters.

A Villain for a Duke is the fifth standalone novella in the steamy regency romance series:

Dukes for Christmas Fairytales.

Book 1: A Beauty for a Duke
Book 2: An Ember for a Duke
Book 3: A Slumber for a Duke
Book 4: A Flurry for a Duke
Book 5: A Villain for a Duke

1816 England

LADY HOPE WAS THE most beautiful woman in England. It only added to her beauty that she didn’t care about such achievements. If one could even call it such, and she didn’t. Call beauty an achievement, that is. To be born a certain way was not a particularly noble success.

“Mother, remind me why we’re having this Christmas house party when none of my brothers will be here?”

“Despite the fact that they’ve all decided to take extended honeymoons, I don’t need all seven sons as a reason to celebrate Christmas when I have one incredible daughter.” Her mother gently pinched her cheek. “You are the most beautiful, most precious person to me.”

“Now?”

“Always.” Her mother winked. Mavis, the dowager Duchess of Whitewood, was like an old cake hoop. Solid. Sturdy. Determined. Unyielding and utterly unwilling to produce anything other than the shape of what she desired. Yet full of soft, delicious, cake. Just as the circle symbolized, she too was the embodiment of the cycle of life. She had found and appreciated a love match with her husband, and she unrelentingly wanted the same for her children.

Bright-eyed, she encouraged Hope, “Look at the fruit of our labor.”

Hope scanned the table before her. Menu notes. Was that three courses or seven? Soups, fish, beef, pies, and puddings. Scribbles on flowers and decor. Poinsettias. Holly. Apples. Dark emerald green damask fabrics, specially ordered for Christmas. Seating charts. And then of course, there were additional comments about each guest sprawled out over several sheets. Among the listed guests, a few caught her eye: Michael, The Duke of Tinsder, Lady Astrid and her brother Isaac, The Duke of Regium. It was mostly close family friends.

“I didn’t do much of the planning. It was all you this time.”

Her mother chuckled. “Speaking of which.” She waved her hand over the papers. “Who shall we matchmake this time?” The twinkle in her mother’s eyes was contagious.

“Don’t you dare matchmake for me, Mama. You know I’ll see right through it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Oh, she would dare. She was the one who would dare the quietest, the most dangerously. Hope knew it. Counted on it in fact. Had her blue eyes wide open on the lookout, just in case such a dare was executed.

“Never mind you, my dear. You don’t have any trouble attracting men. Who would make a good match for Lady Astrid?”

Not one to speak ill of anyone, Hope opted to wrinkle her nose.

“All right. Let’s move on to a different guest.” Mavis fluttered her fingers through the air in thought. “What about her brother, Isaac?”

Hope’s finger tapped lightly on her chin, as if to invite thought to the foreground. “Isaac…the duke….he’s such a…” There were many ways to describe the notorious rake. He was a libertine of the highest order. Ever a pleasure-seeker. A seducer that one should stay away from. At best he was a flirt who always made Hope chuckle. At worst he was a—

“Sybarite?”

“Mother!”

“You can’t pretend to be shocked, Hope. The man is an infamous rake.”

“Not all rumors are true, Mother.”

“All the censure in the world won’t erase all the blondes I’ve seen hanging off that man’s arm over the years. I think it’s only getting worse, mind you. The man either has a type or he’s avoiding the one he wants.”

If Hope had been paying close attention, she would have heard her mother murmur her next phrase, “I’m betting on the latter.”

But she didn’t hear, for she had a more pressing concern on her mind. “If he’s such a rake, why did you invite him?”

“Oh,” —Mavis slashed her hand through the air— “he’s a family friend, my dear. He would never do anything to you or this family. He’s harmless. He knows us. He would do nothing here. Not under my roof.”

Hope started to recount all the possible nothings that her brothers had done under her mother’s roof, but was cut short.

“Never mind that, What about Lady Cheyenne?”

A gasp escaped Hope’s lips. “She’s finally leaving her home?”

“I’m as surprised as you are, but she accepted the invitation. We shall see if she shows up.”

“My, my, my…You are quite the hostess if you can lure her out.” Hope couldn’t hide how impressed she was by her mother.

“Greater things have been done. All seven sons? Our greatest achievement yet, wouldn’t you agree?”

A smile split open on Hope’s face. “Of course, Mother. No greater feat has ever been accomplished. All seven sons matched in one summer. We do make quite the pair.”

“That’s right. And now it’s your turn to find love. Don’t shake your head at me, young lady. You are a diamond of the first water, and it’s finally your turn.”

Hope scoffed. “It’s not about beauty, Mother. There are many women in the beau monde more fetching than me.” She recalled her debut season and all the attention she had received from various suitors. Not one could tell her what her favorite color was (blue), what her favorite activity was (hosting guests), or what she longed for (to be treasured). The most they could regurgitate would be the color of her hair, and perhaps the measurements concerning her breasts. (She had seen them staring on too many occasions not to notice.)

The worst was when she found out about a gentleman (so called only if one wanted to strictly adhere to labels) who had put a wager in the books that he would win her as a wife. Not even win her heart. Had that been the bet, there may have been something to discuss. But no, just win her. As if she were some kind of object with no soul, no purpose other than to be owned by a man.

That season taught her the most valuable lesson about herself: she needed a man who loved her for her heart, not her body. She needed to be sure her mother knew that, though she doubted it was in question.

“I want a man to love me for my heart. Not my face. Just like you and Father. A true love’s match. I will not be some man’s trophy. I must be his treasure.” It was nothing new for Hope to hear that she was beautiful. And oh, just thinking that made her feel churlish and petulant. She didn’t resent being beautiful. She was not so foolish as to think her life would be better if her looks were diminished. But she also preferred not to give it much thought. Whether she looked fetching in a blue, yellow, or red dress was not of particular importance to her. Though she knew it mattered to so many others, she couldn’t quite make herself put more time than was absolutely necessary into getting dressed.

Unfortunately, what she deemed absolutely necessary and what her lady’s maid deemed absolutely necessary were absolutely and necessarily contradictory. There were more than a few delays when Hope attempted to ready herself for certain casual affairs and her lady’s maid had intervened.

“Hope, you must know something. There are three types of beauties in the world. The first type of beauty, only some people will recognize. The second type of beauty, almost all people will recognize. The third type of beauty is undeniable. For beauty to be undeniable, the object in question must possess an internal light that shines so bright within them that it is impossible not to see. You, my dear, have that undeniable glow.”

“So says my mother.”

“So says everyone who catches sight of you.”

Hope shrugged. She had heard it all before.

Her shrug was followed by a sigh. It would be nice to know she was liked for who she was, not just how she looked or who her family was. But that was a dream. An impossibility, actually. She could only trust her mother that this Christmas wouldn’t turn into showcasing Hope. It seemed as though Mama was fixated on matchmaking the other guests.

Normally she would be thrilled to plan a house party with her mother, but something felt amiss this season. Perhaps it was the snow that had yet to fall. Being only three days shy of Christmas, she ought to have seen a snowflake or two, but not a single one had wafted through the air.

She was hesitant to admit the effect the emptiness of the country house was having on her. Snowick Abbey was a vibrant place. Full of life and people. There, the family had always spent Christmas together, for as far back as she could remember.

Up until, and just after, the seven-way wedding in which she lost her brothers but gained an equivalent amount of sisters, she had been too caught up in the chaos to consider what would happen next.

Apparently, this was next. Planning a Christmas house party without them. So it only made sense to throw herself fully into it. Soon there would be people filling the rooms, playing cards, dancing, and enjoying winter activities. Well, winter activities sans snow.

It would be a delight to have people around. Isaac would arrive soon. A light-toed shiver danced up her spine. She hadn’t seen him for ages. Had it really been since the wedding? Ah well, he had probably been off gallivanting with one of his blonde haired mistresses. Some men had a type. And some men had that type over and over again. As her mother had not too unkindly observed.

Isaac and her were friends, but that was by default. Whenever he had come to visit one of her brothers, she had inadvertently spent time with him. So now she would see him, and none of her brothers would be around. And hadn’t Hope been yearning for time and space from her overprotective brothers? This Christmas house party should be just what she needed.

Hope cast a glance over to her mother, head bent over another sheet of paper making a few more scribbles.

“Are we ready for everyone, Mama?”

“Yes, dear. I do believe we are. The guests won’t start arriving until later this evening, so I should have just enough time to review these final notes with Cook.”

“I’ll put this away for you then.” Hope reached for the inkwell at the same time as her mother.

“Oh, dear.” Mavis was chuckling as ink spilled all down the front of Hope’s red frock. “Oh, my Heavens.” Her hand was over her mouth and her eyes were sparkling in amusement. “You must go and change now. There’s enough time before any guests start to arrive.” Mavis’s startling clap was shadowed by laughter. “Quickly, now.”

Well, it wasn’t Hope’s favorite dress, anyway.