Forbidden to Love the Duke (The Fenwick Sisters Affairs, Band 1) - Softcover

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Jillian Hunter is the author of more than twenty-five critically acclaimed novels, among them the bestselling Boscastle Affairs Series and the Bridal Pleasures Series. She has received several awards, including the Romantic Times Career Achievement Award. She lives in Southern California with her husband and three daughters.

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Praise for Jillian Hunter’s
Boscastle Affairs Series

ALSO BY JILLIAN HUNTER

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Acknowledgments

As always, a huge thank-you to my agent, Mel Berger, for his support and insight.

Also, a special thank-you to my editor, Kerry Donovan, for staying on board with the book until her own production schedule took precedence.

I am grateful to Isabel Farhi and Claire Zion for filling in during my editor’s absence and to the art department for creating yet another wonderful cover.

Prologue

London
1808

James had pursued his alluring prey midway to the ladies’ retiring room. A black silk mask concealed half his face, but the more experienced guests at the masquerade ball knew his identity. A duke’s heir rarely went unnoticed at a party, especially when he paid attention to a particular lady. To his amusement, the object of his infatuation seemed to be the exception.

The lady acted unconcerned by his pursuit, perhaps even oblivious to his interest. She hadn’t once glanced over her shoulder or faltered in her steps to show she cared that she’d captured his fickle attention. She swept down the corridor like a princesse royale, oblivious to whoever fell or trailed in her wake.

He admired her demeanor. Was it possible she was blithely unaware of his existence? He had to remedy that situation before he had half the guests at his heels. But he was starting to wonder whether he wasn’t hunting her as much as she was leading him somewhere.

She certainly wasn’t dressed to entice a man. Her skirts belled out over a metal-framed Elizabethan farthingale that bumped a pair of footmen on either side from her hurried path. It was quite the costume. If James hadn’t become so instantly enamored of her angelic face, he might not have gone on the chase with so many tiresome debutantes warning her, between giggles, that a scoundrel had her in his sights.

“Hurry up, my lady!”

“He’s going to catch you.”

“Do you want us to escort you?”

“She isn’t from London,” one of them whispered to another, looking at James through a bejeweled mask. “He’ll take advantage of her innocence.”

The silly geese dispersed as soon as he approached her—his personal attendants had made an art of protecting his privacy. They crowded the hall until he caught her by the hand and led her to a corner beyond the betraying lights of the wall sconces.

He neglected to ask her name, or to speak at all, while memorizing her face. And he ignored her initial resistance as he pulled her into his arms and kissed the lovely mouth that had lit an unbankable fire in his blood. Her body refused to mold to his, but neither did she push him away. The feather in her tall hat poked him in the eye. As soon as he had noticed her in the ballroom, he had wanted to take her home and remove her square-necked Elizabethan lady’s costume. But now he realized she was too young to dishonor, as badly as he desired her, and beyond that, he’d enlisted in the infantry. She would belong to someone else when he returned home.

Stolen kisses on this night would have to suffice.

“Sir, I don’t even know who you are,” she whispered when he gave her a moment to breathe.

“If I told you, would you allow me greater liberties?”

She laughed at his bold question, evidently delighted at the prospect of a season of romance and gentlemen to vanquish ahead of her. “I should warn you—my father has a hot temper.”

“I have a hot temperament.” Which she did nothing to cool. How could he offer her anything except trouble when he was about to leave for war? He brushed his hand down her back, over her stiff skirt and petticoats, then around and up to her bodice, seeking the true shape of her body. She was well built, and he laughed at the delicate hand that arrested his quest.

“That’s quite enough.”

“Not for me.”

“Who do you think you are?”

“Isn’t it better sometimes not to know?”

“I couldn’t say. I’ve never attended a masquerade.”

He stared down into her sweetly indignant face and proceeded to ravish her tempting mouth until the rumble of background voices forced him to release her. He had acted rashly, and it was his responsibility to protect her reputation. After all, she was presumably at the ball to find a husband.

He brought his hand to her warm cheek, murmuring, “My body servants will stand as a barricade for you to slip away. I’m sorry if I offended you, but I simply couldn’t resist. And I’m not sorry that I kissed you. Tell me the truth—are you? Do you regret my actions this evening?”

He knew even before she replied that she wasn’t. He’d felt the shivers she had tried to control when they kissed. Still, he didn’t expect a lady to willingly admit that she had shared his inexplicable surge of desire.

She surprised him with her answer. “I’ll tell you the truth,” she said under her breath. “This was my first kiss. From what I’ve heard, as far as first kisses go, yours was fairly decent. But if you try anything like this ever again, I will call you out. I won’t let you kiss me a second time. My father is looking for a husband for me tonight. I’m his eldest daughter, and that’s all you need to know.”

“My goodness.”

“You’re everything a lady should avoid.”

“I might be.”

“Well, it’s never too late to repent.”

“At my age? I have absolutely no intention. Save the sermon for the next rake you meet.”

“I’ll tell you something else,” she whispered. “It’s a good thing I can’t see your face, because in the event that someone has seen us together, I can’t identify you to my father.”

He laughed. “Or to your future husband, who, it is becoming apparent, must kiss decently and be on his guard against scoundrels like me. You do have a delicious mouth. Are you certain I can’t entice you to meet me in a more private spot at midnight?”

“This is my debut,” she said, with a catch in her voice. “Would you ruin it for me? Would you ruin me for the rest of my life for your passing pleasure?”

He crushed her to him, closed his eyes for an agonizing moment, and released her with a regret he’d never known he could feel. “I suppose it’s too much to ask you to remain pure another few years?”

She laughed again. “If you had your way, I wouldn’t remain innocent for the rest of the night.”

“Let’s make a bargain.”

She shook her head, the feather in her hat tickling his nose again. “I don’t think so.”

“Hear me out first.”

“Hurry, then. I’ve left my sister alone in the ballroom.”

“If you don’t have five proposals by noon tomorrow, I shall offer for your hand.”

Her eyes widened. “Now I know you’re mad.”

And at that moment he let her slip away, unable to disagree, convincing himself it was for the best. What did he want with a woman who made him lose his head?

*   *   *

Ivy had felt quite beautiful during the short interlude with the masked stranger, bedazzled by his attentions. In fact, she so wanted to believe the scoundrel had meant what he said that she made one excuse after another not to...