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  "No!" Sofia screamed, as Matthew pulled Devon around and delivered a swift punch to his jaw. Sofia pulled desperately against her bonds, leaning forward. Devon staggered to the side of the room after being hit, leaning against the wall. Sofia didn't know how a small man could have that much strength. Matthew pulled Devon down by the shoulders while he was still dazed, pushing his knee directly into Devon's stomach. There was a distinct 'oof' sound from Devon as he fell to the floor. Sofia felt one of her hands slip out of the bonds, feeling like she dislocated it. Matthew was standing over Devon, watching him trying to regain his breath.

  "Not so high and mighty now are you," Matthew sneered, delivering another kick to Devon's stomach. Devon coughed violently as Matthew laughed.

  Sofia felt like time stood still. She was silent, she couldn't move. Then time seemed to move very quickly. Devon, despite struggling for breath, made a sudden quick motion and yanked on Matthew's ankle, bringing the short man down. Devon moved quickly, trying to regain his strength. The men tussled. Devon holding Matthew's forearms. Devon had the advantage of height and muscle mass. He pushed his weight against Matthew, sitting up on the man's thighs. He pulled Matthew up by the forearms, and then suddenly released his grip on the boy, shoving his chest down.

  There was a loud "thud" as Matthew’s head cracked against the wooden shack floor. Devon breathed deeply, watching the man’s face all the while. He didn't stir. Sofia's voice was caught in her throat as Devon stood up, wavering. He moved over to Sofia, and she thought he looked several years older, tired, with sweat dripping from his forehead.

  As he untied Sofia's bonds, she said nothing. She didn't want to bother her savior. She had read about fights in books, seeing one was a lot scarier. Her tears had stopped whether due to adrenaline or fear she didn’t know. Devon held out a hand to her. Usually it would have been uncouth to take it, but the day’s events seemed to override that. She stood up, rubbing her wrists. They were red and ugly, stinging at the slightest movement or touch. This was overtaken by the sweet feeling of relief that she was safe.

  "Now it's time for this man to taste some of his own medicine," Devon said.

  His voice wasn't triumphant. It was tired, layered with negative emotions. Devon took the rope that had previously been used on Sofia, placing it on the poorly made bed.

  He didn't ask for Sofia's help, but help she did as they lifted and pushed Matthew into the same position as Sofia had been.

  Devon’s practiced hands moved deftly to tie the man. He then stood up, placing his hands on his hips.

  "Have you eaten?" he asked Sofia.

  She shook her head. Her stomach had gnawed at her for days.

  "Come with me, please," he said, with tired eyes. He led Sofia to his horse, who was happily munching grass. From there, they rode for a short while towards an Inn she could see in the distance. Sofia's wrists stung as she held her arms around his waist.

  She saw the Inn getting closer and her stomach growled in anticipation. Devon tied up his horse and held the door open for Sofia. The Inn was mostly empty, the innkeeper recognized the duke immediately and rushed to serve him.

  "I need to borrow two of your strongest lads, I will pay handsomely," Devon said, his voice strong. As they'd entered the Inn he'd put on airs. Sofia guessed he must show strength due to his position. The bar keeper’s eyes bulged at the mention of money. Devon retold the story, the whole horrible event, and requested the bar keeper’s lads lock up Matthew.

  The barkeeper nearly tripped over his feet in his eagerness to help. Despite the barkeeper insisting he had no food fit for people of their stature, the rabbit stew was the best thing Sofia had ever eaten. The duke told her not to worry about properness, however Sofia tried her best to be neat as she dunked her bread in the stew. She wished she could just curl up on the table to sleep.

  The trip back to the manor was painful, but Sofia relished every second of it. They rode directly to the front door, Devon leaving his horse there. As they walked in Sofia saw barely a glimpse in the eyes of the butler. Devon asked for the horse to be stabled, then turned to Sofia.

  “Sofia,” he said, his eyes low, “before I left, my sister was due to give birth. Would you please accompany me to her chambers?”

  Sofia stuttered, not quite sure what to say. She finally managed to speak.

  “I’m sorry, I feel that I would be imposing Your Grace,” she said. Pregnancy was difficult and often resulted in death. She couldn’t believe that Devon had left in such a time of turmoil, to save her. Her appreciation for the duke increased immensely.

  His looked up at her.

  “Please Sofia” was all he said.

  Despite Sofia’s forebodings, she nodded. Devon had done so much for her, how could she refuse this simple request.

  They walked side by side, marching like men sent to the gallows.

  Chapter 12

  Devotion

  Devon was full of emotion and happy that he had finally rescued Sofia. Despite his confused feelings, he still wanted to court her. He needed rest. But first, he had to see his sister.

  Despite himself, he basically begged Sofia to come with him. He knew that the dowager would have something to say about that, but he didn’t care. Her presence made him feel reassured. He saved her. Her could do anything. His father had always taught his son to show strength first. His people needed to see him as a leader; as someone who could accomplish anything. There are a lot of decisions Devon had made that weighed heavy on him. Sofia, however, wasn’t one.

  They reached her chambers, and he knocked on the door. The doctor came out. Devon internally braced himself for the worst.

  “Is my sister well?” He asked the doctor.

  He nodded in reply, “The birth went well. She required a few stiches, but that was the extent of it. She is resting.” He didn’t smile, but he never had. Devon nearly wanted to fall over with relief.

  “That’s good news, Doctor.” The doctor nodded, in response.

  “She had a baby boy. The labor was short, but she needs her rest. I advise that you see them tomorrow.”

  Devon nodded, with relief. Mary exited Emily’s bed chamber, tiptoeing through. The doctor excused himself to return to Emily.

  Devon walked up to Mary, leaving Sofia standing at the top of the stairs.

  “Mary, please show Sofia to her room. Make sure she has everything she needs. Please check on her every hour,” Devon said. The last thing he wanted was for her to disappear.

  The girl nodded, “Of course Your Grace.” Devon liked Mary, he knew she didn’t gossip.

  Devon returned to his chambers and fell into a deep sleep. When he woke, he ordered supper to be taken in the sunroom, with Sofia. He dressed in his best clothes, washed his hair, made himself look his best. Sofia seemed better rested, and he decided it was now or never.

  “Sofia, I’m sorry I have to ask this,” he said slowly. She looked at him, her face expectant.

  “I need to hear the whole story.”

  So she told him, over the dinner. The more she spoke, the more Devon felt for Sofia. Her voice was firm, her head raised. Through all the turmoil she’d faced in the space of a week, she remained a lady. She was perfect. At the end of her story, the duke expressed his sympathy for her. Then he took a deep breath.

  “Sofia… I wish to court you. Properly,” he said. Her face broke into a smile.

  “I think I would like that,” she said. Then, Devon smiled too. All his worries and stress seemed to melt away, looking into her green eyes.

  The next few days seemed to fly by. The first night he had worried that Sofia would disappear again, but she didn’t. They both met Emily’s baby, the most handsome little boy Devon had ever seen. The doctor saw to Sofia’s wrists, but they healed slowly. Every day they were a reminder of the atrocities Matthew committed. He was sent to the gallows, with many articles appearing in the newspaper. Devon had to fend off reporters from small London newspapers, speaking only to the Times. Devon kept Sofia a
way from all of that, she didn’t need the stress.

  She seemed to flourish in the duke’s manor. It took a while, but she came out of her shell. Devon delighted in talking to her of politics, history and just about everything. Months later they were just as in love. He took her to a few London balls, introducing her to people of stature. She eloquently composed herself, and never faltered. Devon and Sofia soon became engaged, then married, with their story appearing in newspapers. The way they had met, and the terrible man Matthew, became only a distant memory and seemed more fiction than fact.

  *** The End ***

  charmed by

  the noble duke

  Regency Romance

  Grace Fletcher

  Chapter 1

  Prologue

  Spring 1805

  “J ethro!”

  Daniel Lundie-Brown looked around and groaned. A little red-haired girl dressed in a thick coat over her dress with a matching hat was standing on the bank of the pond. Another little girl, this one much younger with black curls coming out underneath her hat stood beside her.

  Great. He had hoped that he and Jethro could have some fun skating on the pond which was frozen over for the first time that winter. Some play with his best friend without his pesky sisters following them around.

  Daniel thought they had managed to get away. Evidently not. Clementine and Maisie Cowell were very good at finding them, no matter how hard they tried to get away. Jethro was just as frustrated with it as his best friend rolled his eyes and shouted back to his sister.

  “What do you want, Clementine?”

  “Can we come and join you?”

  Daniel gritted his teeth.

  “No, you can’t.” He muttered.

  Jethro frowned at him and turned to his sister.

  “No. You haven’t got skates and Mama says you must never go onto ice without skates.”

  Ever at their distance, Daniel could see Clementine’s pout and Maisie’s bottom lip trembling.

  “Please, Jethro!” Maisie whined.

  Jethro huffed and looked at Daniel, who raised his hands and skated backwards.

  “Don’t look at me. They’re your sisters.”

  It was at times like this Daniel was glad he was an only child. Jethro had to often keep an eye on Clementine and Maisie and he didn’t like it. At fourteen, Jethro wanted to do his own thing. Clementine and Maisie were only eight and six; they were far too young for some of the things Daniel and Jethro wanted to do.

  Two fourteen-year-old boys in charge of two little girls was never going to be a good idea.

  Jethro was warring with himself. If he said yes, then their ice skating would be ruined and they would have to watch over the girls as they attempted to slide about without any skates. If he said no, the two sisters, Maisie especially, would go running back to their mother and father and complain that Jethro and Daniel weren’t playing fair.

  Either way, they were going to get into trouble.

  Finally, Jethro sighed and beckoned them over.

  “Come on, then. Just watch your footing. We’re not helping you up.”

  Daniel growled as Clementine helped Maisie onto the ice and then followed her.

  “What did you say that for?”

  “They’re little girls, Danny.” Jethro shrugged. “They’ll start complaining about the cold in a couple of minutes and want to go back inside. They always do.”

  Daniel hoped so. He wasn’t in the mood to have his afternoon ruined.

  Clementine and Maisie made their way slowly around the edge of the pond, keeping closer to the bank. Maisie kept falling over, giggling and standing up again. Clementine, on the other hand, managed to keep herself upright. Daniel had to admit even without skates the girl had good balance.

  Then he noticed where they were going. From skating on the pond before, he knew the ice was always thinner in that part and, despite being close to the bank, it was quite deep. And Clementine was wearing a heavy coat.

  He started towards her. While he didn’t care much for her presence, he wasn’t cruel enough to let her drown.

  “Clementine, be careful over there. That ice is very…”

  Clementine turned to him just as he heard some load creaking. Daniel saw the horror pass over Clementine’s face moments before the ice broke and she was crashing through into the water.

  “Clementine!”

  Daniel could hear Jethro shouting and Maisie screaming. He picked up speed and fell to his knees by the hole in the ice. The ice under his knees threatened to give way but Daniel wasn’t paying any heed to it. He reached in, his hands managing to grab onto the thick coat Clementine had been wearing. It was heavy with the water and Daniel was struggling to pull it up towards him.

  But he managed and Jethro joined him, pulling Clementine to the surface. Daniel took one look at Clementine’s face and knew they were in trouble. Her face was blue, her lips were blue and her eyes were closed. Her body had gone into shock from the ice-cold water.

  Gathering the girl into his arms, Daniel half-stumbled, half-skated to the bank. He fell onto the bank and held the unconscious girl in his arms, trying to get her warm. Her clothes were soaking through his own but Daniel didn’t notice the cold. Clementine was still not waking up.

  Jethro managed to get off the ice and tugged off his skates. Running to wear they had left their belongings, he came back with their coats. Tossing them to Daniel, he managed to grab Maisie as she sat on the ice bawling her eyes out and screaming, dragging her onto the bank.

  Daniel lay Clementine on the ground and put the blankets over her.

  “Get Papa and Sanders now!” He shouted over his shoulder. “And take Maisie with you!”

  He barely heard Jethro and Maisie taking off over the ringing in his ears. He began to rub Clementine down, trying to get some heat into her body. Daniel had no idea if she had swallowed any water but he focused on getting her warm.

  “Come on, Clementine. Wake up. Please, wake up!”

  Clementine then started shivering and heaving. Daniel saw it coming and turned her onto her side in time for her to cough water onto the grass. Seeing that was a relief; she was alive.

  For now. She wasn’t out of the woods yet.

  Daniel tucked the coats tighter around her body and laid down behind her, wrapping his arms tightly around her body. His father had shown him how to keep someone warm in the winter and Daniel was now glad of it. He could feel Clementine shivering violently but he gritted his teeth and held her tighter.

  “Keep awake, please, Clementine.” He whispered. “Don’t close your eyes. Listen to my voice.”

  He hoped his father and Sanders turned up soon. Or both of them were going to freeze to death.

  Chapter 2

  The New Duke

  of Winchester

  March, 1815

  D aniel Lundie-Brown, the newly appointed Duke of Winchester, turned away from the fire and glared in astonishment at the statuesque woman with porcelain skin and auburn hair sitting on the couch.

  “Are you out of your mind, Mother? I only took over the title this morning and Papa died last night! Can’t you just wait until I’ve come out of mourning or, at least, until I’m settled?”

  Holly Lundie-Brown, Dowager Countess of Winchester, gave him a frown and shook her head. She sat with her hands folded in her lap dressed in black, looking like the perfect widow in mourning. But Daniel couldn’t believe what she had been talking about for the past two hours.

  His father wasn’t even cold in the grave and she was discussing things that should not be anywhere close to the topics they should talk about in mourning.

  “Absolutely not, Chester.” His mother said primly.

  Chester grunted and shook his head.

  “It’s going to be very strange you calling me that instead of Daniel.”

  “You’re the duke now. Winchester is now your name.”

  Chester wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. As a child, he had been known as Danny. A
s a grown man in the army, he had been known as Lundie-Brown. But to be called Winchester, or Chester, where he was named after a city instead of his personal name, felt strange. Especially when he had heard his father being called that for years.

  His stomach was still up in knots over his father’s death. Chester was holding himself together until his mother finally left before he let out some tears. Grown men didn’t cry, and the countess was firm on that.

  “And you’re not married, either.” The countess pointed out. “You need a wife and an heir. You can’t get an heir unless you’re married.”

  “How do you know I haven’t got an illegitimate child in France?”

  Chester felt some slight satisfaction at seeing his mother’s face going white, her mouth falling open.

  “You haven’t!”

  “Of course I haven’t.” Chester sat in an armchair, not bothering to sit properly by lounging his leg over the arm. He was not in the mood for etiquette tonight. “But even if there was, I wouldn’t discount them just because I’m not married to the mother.”

  The countess narrowed her eyes, realizing her son had goaded her into a reaction. She didn’t like it when Chester made sarcastic comments or teased her. She was the coldest woman he knew; he swore she didn’t have a sense of humour.

  Chester was lucky that his father had been the warm, loving parent or he might have turned out completely different.

  The countess narrowed her eyes.

  “You’d bring us all into disrepute.”

  “Just me, not you.” Chester returned her narrowed eyes expression. “If you don’t want to be involved in a scandal, you can always go to Wells.”

  Countess Winchester paled. Chester knew his mother hated Wells, the holiday home from his father’s mother’s side. Technically, she should be there now as her son had inherited the title. But she was refusing to leave.