Polishing the Duke

Book 3: Suddenly a Duke

by Alexa Aston

Genres: Historical Romance; Regency Romance; Regency romance; England; 1800s; Dukes; Regency Historical Romance; Alexa Aston; Suddenly a Duke series

Synopsis

A haberdashery owner who suddenly discovers he’s a duke . . .

A woman of the ton stained by scandal . . .

A deathbed request which brings this pair together . . .

Haberdasher Pierce Selkirk always knew he was the son of an earl. Much to his surprise, he learns he is not illegitimate as he had been led to believe. With his father’s death, he becomes the Duke of Stoneham and must take up responsibilities beyond his comprehension.

Lady Nalyssa Shelbourne was the darling of the ton until her gambling father went bankrupt and committed suicide. The suicide cast a shadow upon Nalyssa, and she now earns her living preparing men who have unexpectedly come into a title, training them to take their places in Polite Society.

Nalyssa travels to Stonecrest, where she meets her next client, a man she is wildly attracted to. The new duke also desires Nalyssa, and she does her best to hold him at arms’ length as she trains him in the idiosyncrasies and unwritten rules of the ton. Nalyssa knows Stoneham must make a brilliant marriage, if only to help his sister and help her find her footing in Polite Society.

Will this duke create an even greater scandal by pursuing—and wedding—a woman barely tolerated by the ton?

Find the answer in Alexa Aston’s Polishing the Duke, Book 3 in Suddenly a Duke.

Each book in the Suddenly a Duke series is a standalone story that can be enjoyed out of order and can be read for free with Kindle Unlimited.

Suddenly a Duke Series Order:

Book 1 – Portrait of the Duke – Daniel & Margaret

Book 2 – Music for the Duke – Henry & Fia

Book 3 – Polishing the Duke – Pierce & Nalyssa

Book 4 – Designs on the Duke – Elijah & Abby

Book 5 – Fashioning the Duke – Fox & Delaney

Book 6 – Love Blooms with the Duke – Xander & Willa

Book 7 – Training the Duke – Cy & Finola

Book 8 – Investigating the Duke – Jasper & Shelby

Release date: April 27, 2023

Publisher: Dragonblade Publishing

Print pages: 254

Sample

PROLOGUE

Southeast of Cambridge—June 1792

 

Pierce stood and lifted the bucket of cold water. It contained three fish he had caught this afternoon. Mama would be so happy. She always praised him when he brought home what he had caught. She would fry the fish, and they would eat them for their supper. He liked doing things that made her life easier. She seemed sad all the time, though she tried to hide it from him. Anytime he came upon her with tears on her cheeks, she would quickly wipe them away and smile brightly at him, pretending nothing was wrong.

He understood that their life was different from most. Their cottage was isolated from others. They rarely had company. Only the tall man with dark blond hair came to visit and when he did, Mama would find chores for Pierce to do outside, saying she needed some private time with the earl. Pierce wasn’t sure exactly what an earl was, only that he must be a very important person. He wore fancy clothes and rode a magnificent coal-black horse that was the most beautiful creature Pierce had ever seen. One day, he hoped he could have such a beautiful horse to ride.

Sometimes, a cart appeared. From what he gathered, it came from the closest village, which Mama would not let them visit. The same man always drove the cart and wore a surly look as he delivered supplies to them. He never spoke, only unloaded the goods from the cart and left quickly after doing so. Pierce wished he could talk to the man and learn a little about where he brought their supplies from and what was nearby.

He wished he had friends and could go to school, as he’d read about in a story. Mama had taught him to read and write, and he learned about all kinds of subjects. Still, he felt lonely, with only their chickens as his companions. He thought Mama must be lonely, too. When Pierce asked her about it once, she said they had one another and that was good enough.

He arrived at the cottage and saw the beautiful black horse tied up, which meant the earl had come calling. Instead of entering the cottage, Pierce decided to peek inside a window and see if they were in serious conversation. If not, he would go inside and show off the fish he had caught in the nearby stream.

Being June, all the windows and the door had been opened. Mama loved to catch the breeze. He moved toward a window in the front of the house and heard voices as he approached. Setting his bucket on the ground, he crept to the window and looked inside.

The earl was sitting in one chair, holding Mama’s hands in his. She had tears streaming down her cheeks.

“You have to let me go, Elias,” she pleaded. “You have held on far too long. You are married now, with a child on the way. A child!”

The earl looked in pain as he asked, “How can I do that when I love you, Amanda?”

Pierce squatted by the window, knowing he shouldn’t be listening, but hoping he would hear something that would explain his and Mama’s isolated way of life.

“Don’t talk of love, Elias. It means nothing.”

“It means everything. You know how I feel about you. And the boy.”

She snorted. “What I need from you is not love and empty promises. Those days are far behind us. I want a settlement from you. I want to take Pierce and go far away. I can no longer see you, Elias. I am not part of your world. I never was.”

“I cannot give you up, love,” the earl said tenderly. “You know I will continue to provide for you and our boy.”

Pierce froze.

Our boy?

In that moment, he understood more than he ever had. That this man who came and visited them about once a month was his father. And the earl loved Pierce’s mother. Somehow, something kept them from being together. But if the earl had only recently gotten married, why hadn’t he married Mama instead? Why didn’t he live with them, or they with him? Why were there so many secrets that no one would tell him about?

Pierce heard Mama begin to weep. “Oh, Elias, don’t you see? We must move far from here. I don’t want you to know where we go. I cannot be somewhere convenient for you anymore. I must break away and start a new life. It isn’t fair to Pierce to keep him from others. He should be around boys his own age. Be able to walk into the village and even take lessons. He is so very smart, Elias. I have taught him almost everything I know, and he still hungers for more knowledge.”

He listened to them argue and plead with one another, finally reaching a compromise. The earl agreed to having his solicitor come once a year and give them funds for the year. Mama had wanted the solicitor to merely send the money and not see them in person. The earl was insistent, though, and Mama promised to write a Mr. Potter and share with him their final destination so he could come every year.

“I want a report on our boy and his progress. Potter will do as I have always done and quiz Pierce. See where he stands in his lessons. He can also give me a physical description of the boy.”

He thought back to the earl’s visits over the years and how the man would ask him about history and have him add sums in his head or conjugate Latin verbs. This solicitor would probably do the same and report back to the earl.

His father.

“You are certain you won’t change your mind about this, Amanda?”

“We must leave, Elias. I will build a new life for Pierce. One where he and I will not be judged and treated as outcasts.”

“If you ever change your mind—”

“I won’t. I have spent too much of my life waiting around for you and stolen moments. That time has passed. I need to live for myself and my son.”

“Then if this is goodbye, will you make it a proper one, my love?”

A long silence ensued, causing Pierce’s curiosity to rise. He inched up and peered through the window, seeing his parents clinging to one another, a desperate air about them as they kissed.

His chest ached, as if someone stabbed him in the heart. He still didn’t understand everything, only that these two loved each other a great deal and could not be together.

“Where is he?” the earl finally asked. “I must see him one more time.”

“He went fishing, Elias. He loves it as much as you do.”

A long sigh sounded. “I remember those days. Us sitting on the bank, fishing poles in the water. I loved you from the first time I saw you. I will always love you, Amanda. Always.”

“And I you, Elias. We must part, though, before the pain becomes unbearable.”

“Will you tell Pierce of us? Of me?”

“Perhaps. When he is older and can understand more. Let me call for him. I would think he’ll be home soon.”

But Pierce didn’t want to see this man. Not now. Maybe not ever. He listened as Mama called for him, continuing to crouch on the ground.

He heard their steps outside the house, just a few feet around the corner where he hid.

“He is too far away, Elias. You must go. You know it. I do, too.”

“How can I leave, Amanda? Leave you and our child?”

Pierce leaned around the cottage wall and saw his father had his arms wrapped about Mama. They both looked as if their hearts might break. Quickly, he ducked back, not wanting to be seen.

He listened as the horse’s hooves began to sound, racing away from the cottage.

The earl was gone. He would not return. If he did, they wouldn’t be here.

After waiting five minutes, Pierce reclaimed his bucket and went inside the cottage, doing his best to pretend that he hadn’t heard and seen what had occurred within it over the last half-hour. Mama wasn’t in the front room, a combination parlor and kitchen, and so he went to the bedchamber they shared.

Clothes were strewn about on the bed. Mama was folding one of her gowns.

“There you are, my darling,” she said, forcing a smile upon her lips.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“We are moving!” she proclaimed, her excitement contagious. “I have found a new place for us to live. I will open a shop, and you shall go to school with other boys.”

Catching her enthusiasm, he said, “Where is this place?”

“Oh, far from here. It is a small town south of Bristol and growing quickly. We will ride a mail coach to get to it, and it will take several days to reach our destination.”

Mama captured his hands and sat on the bed. “I have news to share with you.” She hesitated and then said, “Not only are we leaving for a new life, but you are going to be a big brother come next February.”

Pierce said nothing, dumbfounded.

She squeezed his hands. “Oh, you will be such a good big brother, Pierce. You are already such a wonderful helper for me. Do you hope it is a boy or a girl?”

He thought a moment, wondering if she had told the earl about the new babe.

“I suppose a girl. You already have a boy in me. A girl would be nice.”

Mama beamed. “I think so, too. I may be a little ill for a while. Women carrying a babe often are. This child will be a blessing.”

She stood. “Come and help me pack. We will be leaving the day after tomorrow.”

Pierce did as asked, happy simply because Mama was happy. He supposed leaving this place—and the earl—made her spirits lighter.

The next morning, they breakfasted and were washing their dishes when the sound of approaching horses caused Mama to drop a dish.

“Oh, please. Not again,” she murmured.

He thought she was upset because the earl had returned. Running to the open door, he saw a couple in a cart pulled by two horses. Mama came to join him.

And cursed under her breath.

Shock filled him. He had never heard her do so. At least he thought she had cursed. He had read once about someone being very upset in a book. The man had cursed, shocking everyone about him. The way Mama had said the word let Pierce know it was a bad one.

“These people do not love us,” she told him quietly as the man climbed from the bench and helped an older, worn-out version of his mother to the ground. “Watch what you say,” she warned.

The man was old, with iron-gray hair, and thin. His face looked as if he stayed angry all the time. He came toward them, the woman meekly trailing behind.

“I have come to see your mistake.”

Mama stiffened beside Pierce, her arm going protectively about him. “Then you have come to the wrong place and may leave.”

The man stopped in front of Pierce. “I am the Reverend Tamblyn.” He indicated his wife. “This is Mrs. Tamblyn.”

Pierce wanted to introduce himself but recalled Mama’s warning and remained silent.

“I see the boy has no manners,” the man said gruffly.

“Why are you here?” Mama asked. “You were not invited.”

“He stopped and told us you would be leaving the area. Suggested we say our goodbyes.”

“Then goodbye,” Mama said. “Thank you for coming.”

The woman took a step forward. She placed her hand on Pierce’s head. “You are a handsome boy. I hope—”

“The Devil was handsome, Woman!” the clergyman shouted. “Get away from him.”

A bit of defiance crept into her eyes. She smiled at Pierce, her hand going to his cheek. “Be good for your mother. She loves you very much.” Then she leaned close and whispered, “I love you, too.”

Mrs. Tamblyn straightened and smiled sadly at Mama and then stepped away, returning to the cart.

“Can you add sums? Spell?” barked the reverend.

“I can do both. I also know history and geography and Latin and Greek.”

The man glared down at Pierce. “Fancy now, are you? What is to praise?

“Laudo,” Pierce replied. “Principal parts laudo, laudare, luadavi, laudatus.”

Mr. Tamblyn looked disgruntled and challenged Pierce again. “To carry?”

That was an easy one.

“Active infinitives are portare, portavisse, portaturus esse. Passive? Portari, portatus esse, portatum iri.”

“Participles?” the old man pressed.

With confidence, he said, “Portans and portaturus are active. Portatus and portandus are passive. Would you care for imperative? Porta, portate, portato, portatote, portato, portanto. Active. Portare, portamini, portator, portator, portantor. Passive.”

“He is arrogant and smug,” Mr. Tamblyn said. “Just as his father is.”

Pierce heard Mama’s quick intake of breath. “Leave,” she said, her voice firm. “You abandoned me years ago and wanted nothing to do with me. I would like to stay estranged from you.”

“You are a godless woman who succumbed to the temptations of the flesh,” he bellowed. “This is the result of your iniquity.”

A fierceness filled Mama’s face. “Pierce is a loving, kind boy. What I thought a clergyman should be. If Christ could forgive sins, why can’t you, Father?”

He winced at her words then glared at her. “It is a good thing you are leaving.”

“I know of his marriage. And the babe,” she said quietly. “Please. Go. I want no trouble from you.”

Wheeling, he marched to the cart and sat upon the bench. Taking up the reins, Mr. Tamblyn urged the horses on.

Mrs. Tamblyn—the woman Pierce knew was his grandmother—smiled and waved.

“She will suffer for doing that,” Mama said, her tone bitter. Then she pulled him to her, hugging him tightly. “When you are older, I will tell you more of those people. And the earl. For now, let us be glad that we are leaving this place. A new life awaits us, Pierce.

“A new beginning.”

 

 

CHAPTER 1

London—January 1812

 

Lady Nalyssa Shelbourne stared out the window, the bleak January afternoon only growing bleaker. She saw snowflakes begin to dance in the air and turned away, going to sit behind her enormous desk.

What would she do for clients?

Nalyssa was a rare member of the ton in that she actually had to work for a living. It had not always been the case. Once, long ago, she had been a darling of the ton and the daughter of the Earl of Starling. Well, she was still an earl’s daughter. Papa was dead, however, and had left her close to destitute. She’d had two wonderful Seasons in which she’d had more fun than she should have, causing her to decide to wed by the end of her third Season. Just before that Season began, though, her father put a bullet through his head. The ensuing scandal, though kept out of the newspapers, became general knowledge, touching her. Painted by the thick crush of gossip, she retreated to the countryside and buried Starling in the nearby village’s graveyard. The family solicitor had a long discussion with her, telling Nalyssa of the distant cousin who had been located and found to be the heir to the earldom. The man was a lowly country barrister from just outside Liverpool and had no idea of the workings of Polite Society.

That is where she stepped in for her first time, remaking the awkward man into the very image of a perfect earl.

By the next Season, the newest Earl of Starling was successfully launched into society, making a brilliant match with a marquess’ daughter, who had a fat dowry. That dowry saved the new earl’s entailed estate and in gratitude, he had helped set Nalyssa up in the business she had operated for close to a decade.

That business was turning unsuitable men into suitable ones, ones who might be accepted by Polite Society.

Starling had bought her a small place just beyond fashionable Mayfair, and she did her business from her home. The ton knew she had taken a sow’s ear and made a luscious silk purse from it. She had let it be known that she was willing to do the same again for other gentlemen in need, as long as they paid her hefty fee to turn them from the proverbial frogs into princes of men.

And they did.

It surprised her how many men, some even raised within the ton, had no idea how to behave in it. Most of her work involved whipping bastards of noblemen into shape or working with officers returning from war because they now held a title.

Nalyssa was frugal and watched her money carefully. She had slowly been welcomed back into Polite Society’s good graces, although she knew she would never receive an offer of marriage herself. One, because she no longer possessed the huge dowry which her worthless father had gambled away. Two, because she was a businesswoman. While still invited to ton affairs, she was not truly a part of Polite Society anymore. Her friends had abandoned her once it was made known what her father had done and that she would have no prospects at marriage.

It didn’t matter anymore to her. She was self-sufficient. She made do with a cook and two maids, directing them about their tasks without the services of a housekeeper, which she would not have been able to afford.

Worry filled Nalyssa, however. It was the end of January. February would make its appearance next week—and she still had no clients for this upcoming Season. Usually, the months before the Season were when she did the bulk of her training, clients coming to her, begging to take the lessons she would give them in order to help them seamlessly move into the Season. No one had stepped forward this year, however. Nalyssa could make it through another Season without a client—if she watched her expenses. But going one Season without any might lead to a second one.

And that would spell disaster for her.

She toyed with the idea of letting one of the maids go and then realized the girl’s salary was so small that it would not make a difference. She could talk to Cook, though, and see that they cut back on some meals. Even tea. Usually, Nalyssa’s lessons began with and then revolved around tea. She was proud of the lavish teas her cook prepared. In the future, she would make do with a cup of tea and possibly the occasional biscuit if she had no guests.

She wondered if she would receive invitations to ton affairs as she had in the past. Part of her believed the only reason she was still invited to balls and parties was so that others could observe her as she launched her clients into society. If she had no clients, she feared those invitations might dry up. Then where would she be?

A knock sounded on the door of her study and she called, “Come.”

Jenny, who served as both a parlor maid and Nalyssa’s lady’s maid, came into the room and closed the door.

“My lady, there is a Mr. Potter here.”

“Is he a solicitor?”

The servant smiled. “He is, my lady.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. First contact for her services almost inevitably involved a solicitor. One who alerted her to the death of someone and the name of the heir who would replace that titled gentleman.

“Show him in,” she said, confidence swelling within her.

Moments later, a man of about thirty entered her study. He was already a bit portly, and his hairline receding more quickly than most men his age.

“Ah, Lady Nalyssa. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I am Mr. Potter, the younger. My father, Mr. Potter, sent me here today.”

“Won’t you have a seat, Mr. Potter?”

He took one opposite her desk, and she seated herself behind it, not rushing things by asking a flurry of questions. Experience had taught her it was best to remain silent and let the solicitor unveil the purpose of his visit.

“One of my father’s longtime clients is the Duke of Stoneham,” he began.

“How is His Grace?” she asked politely, already having heard the man had been in poor health for more than a year and knowing the duke had not attended the Season last year.

“His Grace is doing rather poorly,” Mr. Potter shared. “His doctors give him very little time to live.”

She thought a moment, recalling who the ducal heir would be. “I am not certain as to the objective of your visit, Mr. Potter. If I remember correctly, the heir to the Duke of Stoneham is the Earl of Hardwell. I have met Hardwell before and do not think him in need of my services.”

Potter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “His Grace has asked to meet with you in person, my lady.”

“He is well enough to do so?” she inquired, curious about this entire situation.

“In truth, no,” the solicitor admitted. “He does know of your services and asked if I could bring you to him directly. Now.”

“Now?”

“Yes, my lady. Before it is too late.”

His words surprised her. “He is that near death?”

“I would not be exaggerating to say the duke already has one foot in his grave.” Potter looked imploringly at her. “I beseech you, my lady. Please come and meet with His Grace. I assure you that you will be compensated well for your time.”

The man’s words had the desired effect. “I would be happy to visit with His Grace. Give me a few minutes to collect my cape and reticule, Mr. Potter. You may wait here.”

Nalyssa left her study and found Jenny lingering in the hallway. “Come quickly.”

They went to her bedchamber, where Nalyssa had Jenny help her change her dress to something more suitable to meet with a duke, albeit one on death’s doorstep. Then she returned to Mr. Potter and the two of them left the house, the snow coming down harder than earlier.

If she had any previous doubts, seeing the Stoneham ducal carriage awaiting them cast those aside. A footman handed her up, and she found a plush robe to throw over her lap for warmth.

“Do you know what His Grace wants to discuss with me, Mr. Potter?”

“I have an idea, Lady Nalyssa, but my father said to speak nothing of the matter with you. It is for His Grace to say.”

“I see.”

They traveled the busy streets and reached the duke’s townhouse, where they were admitted and her cape and reticule collected from her.

The butler took them upstairs, leaving Mr. Potter in the drawing room and taking Nalyssa to the duke’s rooms.

Outside the door, the servant paused. “His Grace tires easily, my lady. If he suffers from a crisis, I shall be waiting just outside the door.”

“Thank you.”

She wondered what crisis might occur and what ailed the dying duke as the butler opened the door and nodded for her to cross the room to the large bed on the other side of the room.

As Nalyssa approached the bed, a man sitting next to it rose, claiming her attention.

“How good of you to come, Lady Nalyssa. I am Mr. Potter, solicitor to the Duke of Stoneham.”

“I would have known so by your resemblance to your son.”

The man smiled. “We do favor one another quite a bit. But we should address why you were called to the duke’s bedside today, my lady. He asked that I awaken him when you arrived.”

“You were so certain that I would, sir?”

“I know what you do for a living, my lady. I will say this—you are about to have the challenge of a lifetime.”

Potter turned to the duke, and Nalyssa saw how changed the man was from the last time she had seen him. Though she had never been formally introduced to the Duke of Stoneham, everyone in Polite Society knew who he was. Even in his early fifties, he had been a handsome man, full of life and charm.

This was no longer the case. A shell of that man now lay in this bed, looking frail and gaunt, his sickly pallor making him appear ghostly.

Potter touched a hand to the duke’s shoulder and gently shook it. “Your Grace, Lady Nalyssa is here.”

Stoneham opened his eyes and blinked several times, his focus on her.

“Another pillow,” he commanded, in a weak voice.

She stepped forward and as Potter helped raise the duke’s shoulders, she slipped another pillow behind him.

“Better.” He gazed at her intently. “Tell me what you do. How you accomplish it.”

She settled into the chair next to the bedside and said, “I am certain you knew my father, Lord Starling, and the man who assumed Papa’s title. He was a distant relation and had never been exposed to anyone in the ton, coming from a small town near Liverpool. He did not know an oyster fork from a fruit fork. He had never drunk champagne, nor had he danced the waltz. I took him from being a country bumpkin to the polished earl he is today, all within a few months’ time.”

The duke nodded slightly. “Did you help arrange his marriage?”

“I encouraged his suit and did the same with the woman who became his countess. If you know of my father, you know the state his affairs were left in, Your Grace. Starling had to wed—and wed quickly—in order to save himself. He took to my lessons and is now one of the most respected men in Polite Society. He and Lady Starling entertain frequently.”

She paused. “You have an heir, Your Grace. I know it to be Lord Hardwell. Why would you have need of my services, if I may be so bold to inquire?”

The duke’s eyes closed, and he did not speak for a full minute. Nalyssa thought he might have fallen asleep again, but he opened them, seeming to rally a bit.

“It is a long, complicated tale, Lady Nalyssa. One that I have written out for my firstborn son. Not Hardwell.”

Understanding filled her. “Ah, you wish for me to bring one of your bastards into society then. I have done this on several occasions, Your Grace, and I can assure you that I will meet with success.”

“No,” he insisted. “Not a bastard. My oldest child. My true heir. My firstborn, legitimate son.”

Confusion filled her. “You were wed previously? And a child resulted from that marriage, a son?”

Stoneham nodded and then began coughing. The coughing spell went on for some minutes, as Potter handed the duke handkerchiefs which sat in a neat stack by the bedside. Nalyssa saw the blood on them and knew the duke wasn’t long for this world.

After sipping water from a glass, which she offered him, he seemed to calm.

“I wed in secret, you see, many years ago, my lady. The woman was not of my class. Amanda was the daughter of a clergyman and the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful woman I had ever seen. We traveled to London and wed in a small parish church there before returning to Cambridge. I was young, barely twenty, and fearful of my father, who had beaten me for the slightest infraction as I grew up. Even being at university, I was still afraid of him. Amanda had just turned ten and seven and was also fearful of her strict father. I managed to scrape up enough money on my own to purchase a special license and then borrow more from friends of mine at university, pooling it in order to buy a small cottage for her. She gave birth to our son there.”

He motioned for the glass she held and once more, she brought it to Stoneham’s lips.

“We saw each other whenever I could get away over the next ten years. I was still under my father’s thumb and afraid of him. Since he was a duke and the holder of the purse strings, I did not want to alienate him. He forced me into a marriage with the woman Polite Society came to know as my countess, and then duchess once I assumed my new title after my father’s death.”

“You were a bigamist,” she said neutrally.

He nodded. “And an unfaithful husband. My new wife was a timid little thing. She gave me three children, first a boy and then two worthless girls. One died when she was young and the other married some Scottish laird and turned her back on me and England.” He paused. “My boy, Edwin, thinks himself my heir. I must right the wrongs of the past since Edwin’s mother passed away six months ago. I had not wanted to embarrass her while she still lived.”

“You realize that your son will be stripped of his title and be known as a bastard. Is that what you wish to stir up, Your Grace? There will be no going back from this.”

“Edwin cannot help the circumstances of his birth. I do owe it to Amanda and our son to make him my rightful heir.”

“Where is this son and true heir now?”

The duke motioned to Potter, who stepped forward and said, “I visited him and his mother once a year after they left the area. Mrs. Selkirk, as she called herself, wished to break away from His Grace once he married. His Grace settled a sum upon her. She and the boy, Pierce, moved to just outside of Bristol.”

Mr. Potter hesitated a moment and then added, “She gave birth to another child seven months after they arrived there. Mrs. Selkirk confirmed to me that the girl was the duke’s.” He cleared his throat. “I, at the duke’s behest, visited them in person once a year. His Grace generously provided them funds each year and I talked with the boy and gave a report to His Grace each time I returned. Pierce understands that he is a bastard child of a high-ranking nobleman. His sister has no idea of the circumstances.”

“Is Mrs. Selkirk—your true duchess—still alive?” Nalyssa asked.

Stoneham nodded. “She will be upset with me for this scandal that will unfold, but her judgmental father and my blackguard one are now dead. Pierce—and Penelope—as well as my beloved Amanda, should be able to take their rightful places in society. You know, though, that will be a monumental task. Amanda and Penelope will need to be taken under your wing, but I foresee no problems in helping them acclimate themselves into a new world.”

The duke paused. “It will be Pierce that will give you trouble as you try to mold him into becoming a duke. He will resist every step of the way. He has become a headstrong man.”

Potter interjected, “Pierce refused to see me after he turned eight and ten. He told me that he would take care of his family in the future and that they no longer wanted the duke’s financial help. I tasked Bow Street to keep a watch on him, along with his mother and sister. We receive quarterly reports of their activities.”

Nalyssa turned to Stoneham. “So, my task will be to get a headstrong, supposed-bastard to accept he is soon to be a duke and teach him the ways of the ton? As well as taking on your duchess and daughter and doing the same. Am I correct?”

“That and helping my other boy, Edwin, to come to terms with his position. I have left an unentailed estate to him in my will. He will be able to see income generated from that. Of course, he will not live as he has and will hold no title.”

Nalyssa knew what the man would hold. A huge grudge. Both against the father who had lied to him his entire life and his half-brother, who would take Edwin’s place in Polite Society.

“I do not want to handle your true bastard, Your Grace,” she said crisply, knowing for the sake of her business that she must keep far away from the angry son of this man who would have his world turned upside down upon the duke’s death. “I take on men who must be polished to a fine sheen so that they will be able to take their place in Polite Society. That will be your heir, the man who becomes the new Duke of Stoneham. Have Mr. Potter handle the matter if you are not man enough to explain things to your other son. It is not business of mine.”

Nalyssa knew she was speaking more frankly to the duke than anyone had ever dared, but she would not be a part of telling this young man he would never hold the title he had grown up expecting to be his. She must keep her distance from him. If she lost Stoneham’s business, so be it.

Stoneham studied her a moment. “You are blunt, my lady.”

She shrugged. “I would call it candid, Your Grace.”

The duke nodded. “You are right. I have overstepped in asking you to prepare Edwin for his new role. My chief concern, however, is Pierce.” He gazed at her steadily. “Are you up for such a task, my lady?”

“Do you have proof of your marriage, Your Grace?” she asked. “Its validity will need to be established before I agree to take on your case.”

The duke began coughing up copious amounts of blood again. She feared he would die before her very eyes.

Once the coughing fit passed, he settled back into the pillows and motioned to Potter.

“I have seen the records at the church in London, my lady. The same clergyman who married His Grace is still serving at this church thirty years later. I have spoken with him. He is willing to testify in court, if necessary. Is that satisfactory?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter.” She turned her attention to Stoneham again, who seemed even more frail than when she had first arrived. “I assume you will want your heir to be brought into society this upcoming Season?”

“Yes,” he rasped. “Along with my girl, if that’s possible. Focus on Pierce first. He is the one who must take his place quickly and command society’s respect.”

“How old are they?”

Potter supplied the answer. “Pierce is now thirty. Penelope will be twenty next month. Neither are wed, though our last report from Bow Street indicated that Penelope has a suitor. Mrs. Selkirk is in good health and owns and runs a millinery shop, assisted by her daughter. Pierce has a haberdashery, which does quite well.”

“Then you must send for the three of them,” she declared. “By the time they arrive in town, time will be short. The Season will be starting in a little over two months. I will have my work cut out for me.”

The duke reached for her hand and took it, squeezing it weakly. “No. Not in town. Have them go to Stonecrest. Let your lessons take place in the country, away from prying eyes.” He sighed wearily. “Thank you, my lady. I can rest in peace, knowing my wife and children are in good hands.”

The faint pressure ceased and Nalyssa watched Stoneham’s eyes slowly close. He did not move nor did he speak. She placed her hand atop his and squeezed, getting no response.

Looking to Mr. Potter, she said, “His Grace has left us. You must go at once to Bristol if we are to honor his wishes. The new Duke of Stoneham must be summoned to the ducal estate.”

 

 

CHAPTER 2

 

Pierce Selkirk was in an extremely good mood. He closed the ledger, satisfaction filling him, knowing he had built a haberdashery equal to none outside of London. The small town he resided in had been good to him and his family these past twenty years, ever since their arrival there when Pierce was ten years of age. Mama had rented rooms for them, telling Pierce that the sale of their cottage allowed them the luxury to do so. She also promised once she opened her own shop, they would find a larger space to live, possibly above the store itself. Pierce had gone to a day school in Bristol, first walking the five miles each way, eager to be around boys his own age. He had made friends with a boy who lived nearby and began riding in a cart driven by his friend’s father, cutting the travel time considerably.

Mama grew larger and larger, finally delivering a healthy girl seven months after their arrival. She had sought his input on the name, and they had chosen Penelope, after Odysseus’ wife in The Odyssey. Although Mama always called her daughter Penelope, Pierce called his sister Pen. Though ten years separated the two, they were extremely close.

A year after Pen’s birth, Annie came into their lives. Kind, jovial, and a mother-figure to them all, Annie cooked and cleaned for them, allowing Mama to begin her millinery shop. Over the years, the shop had grown in nature and now carried not only hats but parasols and umbrellas, gloves, scarves, and tippets. Mama seemed happy running her own shop and many of the women in Bristol patronized it, saying Mrs. Selkirk’s creations were superior to those in the larger city.

Pierce rubbed his chin, thinking how when he was ten and three, Mama sat him down and had a long talk with him, explaining how as a young girl, she had fallen in love with the Earl of Hardwell. She was only sixteen years of age, and her father forbid her from seeing the earl. Nevertheless, Mama had disobeyed her strict clergyman father and continued seeing her sweetheart, a Cambridge university student. She had given birth to Pierce shortly after that. He had asked why the earl had not married her and a distant look came into her eyes before she told Pierce that clergyman’s daughters were not of the same social standing as that of earls and their families. In fact, her beloved was the son of a duke, a powerful duke whose favorite thing in life was to crush his son.

Mama explained how the duke would never have accepted her as his son’s wife, and they had continued to see one another over the years, until the old duke demanded his son wed and provide an heir.

Frustration filled him, and Pierce raked his fingers through his hair, recalling the last day they had seen the earl. He remembered that Mama said he had wed now and had a child on the way. Mama said the earl needed to create a new life with his family, and it was best that she and Pierce leave. He had questioned why she had accepted anything from such a man, anger growing within him as the years progressed. Mama said she might be proud—but she would not let excessive pride hurt her children. That is why she had accepted the proceeds from the sale of the cottage and also a yearly sum given to them by the earl through his solicitor, Mr. Potter.

Potter came to Bristol once a year, surprised at first by baby Penelope’s presence. The solicitor always spent an hour or so with Pierce, asking him about school, his friends, and if he enjoyed his life with his mother and baby sister. Pierce supposed this man reported back to the earl and thought they should cut all ties with the nobleman. Pierce had convinced his mother to do this very thing by the time Pierce turned eight and ten. The millinery shop was incredibly successful, especially with the accessories they had added. Pierce helped his mother run the business, handling the ledgers and inventory and stocking goods when they came in. Mama was the creative one, making up original hats and bonnets and getting to know the women who patronized her shop. When Potter came for that last time, Pierce told the man he was no longer welcome to visit with them. That the payments of guilt the earl sent each year would now cease. Pierce told Potter he was a man and would provide for his family in the future.

He had done so ever since.

Pierce had held a variety of jobs over the next five years while continuing to help Mama run her shop. He was good at whatever occupation he tried and was able to create quite a nest egg. His goal was to open a matching shop next to his mother’s. When the previous tenant retired, he sold the space to Pierce, who turned it into a haberdashery, starting slowly as his mother had years before. He sold gentlemen’s accessories, such as cravats, gloves, smalls and hosiery, and boots. The Crafty Gentleman was profitable from the beginning, and Pierce quickly added clothing to the items available. He employed two tailors and learned the business from one of them. They now sold not only accessories but coats, waistcoats, and shirts. His customers said Pierce’s goods rivaled that of what they found in the best shops of London.

He had never visited London and had an itch to go there in order to study what other haberdasheries carried, especially since he was interested in expanding and starting more branches of The Crafty Gentleman in other towns. He was on the verge of hiring a manager for his store in order to free up time for him to do so and focus on other ventures. He hoped to take Mama and Pen with him on this trip, allowing them to tour the great city and see its sights. He worried, though, that Mama would turn down the trip, fearful that she might run into her former lover. Though Pierce and Pen had both encouraged Mama to see someone over the years, Mama steadfastly refused, telling Pierce in private that her heart would always belong to her beloved earl.

Hatred for the earl had grown over the years in Pierce’s heart, especially when he saw how Mama had put her life on hold for a man who’d used and discarded her. Pen, of course, had no idea she was the bastard daughter of an earl. Mama had vaguely talked of a Mr. Selkirk and how he had left them long ago and Pen had been astute enough not to ask further questions. His sister assisted at the millinery shop and was being pursued by a few young men in nearby Bristol, most notably Mr. Adams, who was a clerk in a solicitor’s office. Pierce wondered if his sister would wed Mr. Adams.

That led him to wonder if he might ever wed. At thirty, he was at the height of his looks and a popular man among the working class of Bristol and in their small town. Many women had chased after him, hoping he would put a ring on their finger, and they were disappointed when he did not. What he was building in his shop, however, should be left behind to someone, preferably his own flesh and blood. Perhaps it was time to think about settling down. He worried that a part of him would be unfaithful, as his father had been, and Pierce vowed never to betray his wife in that manner. He didn’t believe in love, seeing what it had done to his mother.

Still, he thought he could make a good marriage with a woman and it would be successful. He would continue to run the haberdashery and perhaps invest in other businesses while she raised their children.

Pierce decided he would make the trip to London, with or without Mama and Pen, and then look for a suitable wife upon his return.