The Duke's Broken Heart: A Historical Regency Romance Book Read online

  The Duke's Broken Heart

  A REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL

  ABIGAIL AGAR

  Copyright © 2017 by Abigail Agar

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the publisher.

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  Website: Abigail Agar

  Table of Contents

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  The Duke's Broken Heart

  Introduction

  Phineas Collins, Duke of Exeter, left London for India to escape financial ruin caused by his irresponsible father. After having restored the family's fortune, he returns five years later seeking a wife at the marriage mart to produce an heir and to live in Collinswood, his country estate. He prefers the quiet to the London noise and crowds.

  Lady Charlotte Albert begins her first season at the marriage mart. Outgoing and vivacious, she draws men to her. Although she is the opposite of what Phin is looking for, he is attracted to her. Lord Bernard has also shown an interest in her. Being deeply in debt, his interest is in her large dowry. To improve his chances with Charlotte, Lord Bernard spreads rumors about Phin that stem from his father's irresponsible ways.

  Charlotte rejects Phin because of the rumors and gets him heartbroken. When he is in France on business, his friends and family work to clear his name. A group of influential Dukes restores his reputation. When Phin returns, he wonders if he truly wants a woman who has rejected him. He has to decide between walking away from Charlotte forever and spending the rest of his life with her. Will he choose wisely?

  Chapter 1

  Silas brought his hand over his eyes making a visor against the brightness of the midday sun. London’s docks were active at this time of day, with sailors unloading ships and carting crates to nearby warehouses. Silas took out his handkerchief and kept it at his nose as if he had a cold in full bloom. He never got used to the stench of rotting fish and ripe bodies of men who spent months at sea without visiting a port.

  No matter. He would wait as long as it took to see the Lady of Assam glide into port. He would know her when he saw her. The British East India Company had newer sleeker ships than the tubs bobbing in the water before him. And they had a much more profitable cargo.

  Finally, she slipped into port as if she were 10 feet above the ocean with barely a wake or sound. Painted black with brass fittings and her name painted in a brass colour, longer and thinner than most ships, Silas was amazed at the difference between this ship and the one docked next to it. My God, did they have a monopoly on everything? he thought.

  The gangplank was moved into place, and Silas focused on the men exiting the ship. Gentlemen would exit first, so he expected to see his brother at any moment.

  It had been too long since he saw Phineas. He missed having his big brother and best friend near. The dark years with father’s decline and Phin in India were finally over.

  There he was, watching his feet, carefully navigating the plank. His skin was brown from the sun in India, and that same sun had bleached his hair blond. He had filled out since Silas last saw him, but then again, so had he. Silas was happy to see Phin’s smile intact.

  Finally reaching the bottom, Phin looked up and scanned the dock. Silas shot an arm straight into the air and started waving like a lunatic. Phin saw him, gave a short laugh and put up one index finger. He stopped a sailor, said something Silas couldn’t hear and pointed to Silas’ carriage. The sailor couldn’t miss it. It was shiny black with the Exeter crest painted in red and mustard yellow. The footmen were all in red with mustard yellow trim. Phin smiled to himself. Silas always did have good taste.

  He was happy to see his brother’s enthusiastic welcome. Silas’ letters were always long and entertaining, but Phin was nervous about his return. Father was dead. He couldn’t ruin Phin’s reputation any longer.

  Phin broke into a run and took Silas into his arms for a vice-like hug. Silas was slow to let go, tears pooling in his eyes.

  “Let me look at you, brother,” Phin said with a grin. After surveying Silas from top to bottom, he nodded.

  “I didn’t know what to expect. Pasty face, paunch, stiff attire. But Silas, you look good. You look as if life is treating you well. I approve.” Phin nodded again.

  “I’m happy you approve,” Silas said dryly. “But no one looks healthier than you. The ladies are going to hunt you down. I fear they will set up camp at our front door and never leave us alone.”

  Phin raised his head, opened his mouth to respond but said nothing when the two sailors approached him carrying his trunks. He pointed to Silas’ carriage.

  On the way to the townhouse, Silas asked, “So is your plan the same?”

  Phin nodded. “No change. I am single-minded about my goals now that I’m home. Marry Mercy off, find a quiet wife, head to Collinswood, and renovate the castle all the while working with Everett. Phin placed a hand on his brother’s arm. “Silas, you know any time you would like, you can join us.”

  Silas swatted his hand through the air. “Don’t sidestep. We’re talking about the plan. Why quiet?”

  Phin looked at his brother and smirked. “Silas, you have had enough experience with the opposite sex to know they can give you a headache. I don’t want drama. I want an heir and someone to run the castle.”

  “But she might be boring. She might spend her days in the library reading Pride and Prejudice and such.” Silas was worried.

  Phin laughed. “She sounds perfect.”

  ***

  Phin knew his life in India was simpler than the one he came home to. While in India, he sent Everett everything he earned. They were best friends, and he trusted him with his life. He also trusted him with his money. To pay off his father’s debts quicker, he and Everett joined forces to start a company that imported silk to London from Phin’s nearest port. Now that he was home, they would start the export of English goods to India and China.

  Phin had access to other commodities he could send home as well. Everett responded to every request with enthusiasm. They profited from each ship set sail from India with space rented by Phin.

  When he began working his free land, growing tea, Phin liked the change. London was dirty, crowded, noisy, and to Phin, uninhabitable. However, Assam, India reminded Phin of Collinswood. They were nothing alike, of course, but they both were in the country. There was quiet.

  In India, Phin worked, he ate the food his cook served him, and he read at night by candlelight. Sometimes he wrote letters to Everett about when a ship would arrive in the London ports with fabric made in India or China. Sometimes he wrote Mercy or Silas about what his life was like, asking them to do the same. He never asked after his father, but he never told Mercy or Silas to leave out information about him. He didn’t want his siblings to know anything about what happened between the two.

  Phin owned a plantation and then took over two more from countrymen who couldn’t make a go of it. He bought the new technology, an iron plough that prepared the land wi
th two oxen instead of six. It was two times faster. His plantation home was modest compared to the Exeter properties in England. A kitchen, dining room and parlour downstairs and three bedchambers upstairs. All built by him.

  Windows remained open nine months out of the year, the rainy season being the exception, and he ate mostly food served cold. His plantation relied on a series of wells dotted around his property used both to water the plants and to use in his home.

  Phin walked into town, usually twice a week. While walking, he liked to look at the neat, straight rows of tea plants on each side of the path. It gave him a reassuring feeling inside that the world was not all a mad mess. The town, four buildings close together really, served as the place he ordered sugar, flour, and other staples as well as the place to send out the word for new workers. He could have sent someone from the kitchen to do the task, but Phin liked the walk.

  His first stop was always the shop that doubled as a post drop. He wrote Everett, Mercy, and Silas often and usually received a letter every week. He missed them. All of them. It had not occurred to him that he was so close to his family and Everett until they were no longer within arm's reach.

  Phin found a simple, kind, beautiful native of Assam. Anusha was exactly what he needed. She took care of him. She answered his every need. She was a calm, quiet woman whom he had known for four years without ever hearing her raise her voice.

  Granted, the culture and role of women in India were quite different, but Phin was confident he could find what he was looking for. He wanted someone like Anusha. Someone soothing to live with. Someone he could count on to be there when he needed her. Someone who understood he needed peace after the evening meal. He needed time alone each day as much as he needed sleep each night. He got irritable without it. But he knew it so he could manage it. His English wife would help him.

  ***

  Silas leaned back in the carriage and blew out a frustrated breath. “I think you should hold your aspirations in check until you’ve been back on British soil for more than an hour.”

  Silas was worried Phin would turn into a hermit. With a quiet wife who didn’t want to socialize with the ton nor venture into London every once in a while, Phin would be happy living with little contact with the outside world. Yes, Phin had always run from conflict of any kind, and yes, he needed downtime every day, but this plan was not good for him. Phin shouldn’t strive for isolation.

  “Silas, I’ve had five years to think about what I want. Look at these streets,” Phin said as he swept a hand towards the carriage window. “The city is still dirty and smells of the polluted stream that runs down every street. Why are chamber pots emptied out the front windows?” Phin didn’t wait for an answer. “The coal fumes are so thick; I am not sure where the haze of coal ends and the fog begins. I can’t tell – is it foggy today?” Again, he did not expect an answer.

  Phin turned to Silas and leaned back in his seat. In resignation, he said, “How long into the season are we?”

  “Not even a month. You haven’t missed much. No one has paired off yet.”

  “I know I need to be around for Mercy no matter how long it takes, but I’d like to get this wrapped up soon so I can head to Collinswood. When is the next event?”

  Silas was incredulous. His voice came out a little lower than he expected. He detected a growl in his speech. “You’re joking. Relax. You’re not going to Collinswood soon. I know you’d like to leave town, but have you considered Mercy? What will you do if you have trouble finding a wife quickly?”

  “I’ll be anywhere Mercy needs me for as long as she needs me.” Phin shrugged. “Why should I have trouble finding a wife? I’m single, a Duke, and I’m wealthy. I don’t drink; I don’t gamble, and I don’t want a mistress. What could possibly take time?”

  Silas closed his eyes and shook his head. “Your attitude, maybe? Do you hear how you sound when you speak? You might want to go in there with less . . . oh, I don’t know . . . with less of a high and mighty attitude. Your attitude smells obnoxious.”

  Phin quickly changed the subject. “Are you going out tonight?”

  “Yes, Phin, I am.”

  “To a ball?”

  “Yes.”

  Phin looked at Silas. “Care to give me a little more information?”

  “No, just that I have decided to attend the Harrington ball even though five minutes ago I couldn’t have been dragged there,” Silas grinned. “It might be quite amusing.”

  Silas didn’t particularly like to socialize with the ton. It meant he had to go out alone and deal with single young girls. Silas was the second son. He didn’t need to marry and produce an heir. He much preferred keeping a mistress.

  But Silas wanted to see Phin in action. He hadn’t been in London in five years. It promised to be entertaining.

  ***

  When Foster opened the front door, he welcomed Phin warmly. Phin was always appreciative of Foster’s manner. He never did like a stuck up butler. The footmen began unloading Phin’s trunks. Foster informed the men that a few ladies were paying Mercy a call.

  Phin asked for a bath to be brought to his room. He turned to Silas, “I’ve been in these clothes for four days, which by the way was the last time I bathed. I will be down to greet Mercy shortly.”

  Silas turned and nodded. “Shave,” he whispered. He strolled into the front parlour.

  As Phin climbed the stairs, he stopped short. The chandelier. It wasn’t the Waterford crystal chandelier. It was an imitation, the same size. A bad imitation.

  He turned to talk with Foster but remembered Mercy was waiting for him. That was far more important.

  As Phin climbed the stairs, he heard Silas greet the ladies. He shook his head and thought, Silas had a devil may care attitude that I envied. I can’t afford that attitude now that I’m Duke.’

  Once bathed and dressed in an afternoon suit of clothes, Phin headed for the parlour. It was a stroke of genius to send measurements and his wardrobe needs to Giancarlo before sailing home. What a relief, opening his wardrobe door and seeing a full line of up-to-date clothing at his disposal.

  Phin entered the front parlour fully prepared to assess the ladies to see if any met his requirements. Instead, Mercy let out a loud gasp and covered her mouth with her hand. She popped out of her seat quickly and ran to him.

  All others in the room stood, except a much older woman.

  Mercy gave Phin a tight hug that lasted until he took her by the forearms and stepped back to look at her. In the five years he had been gone, she had grown into a beautiful young lady. Her strawberry blonde hair and bright blue eyes had always melted his heart. For the first time, it occurred to him he was gone far too long. He was responsible for her future now. He needed to be by her side.

  She took his hand, dragged him to each woman, and made introductions. Phin smiled and sized up the young ladies in the group, searching for a potential marriage partner. They were doing the same with him.

  Then he saw her. Mercy turned and introduced Phin to Lady Charlotte Abbott. Charlotte had dark hair and dark smoky eyes. Her eyelashes formed a fringe against the backdrop of her porcelain skin. She was tall and willowy with a graceful swan-like neck. Her smile was bright and full. It made her eyes twinkle. And it was infectious. Without consciously doing it, Phin smiled back.

  Was it possible he found the right girl only two hours back on British soil? He hoped so. Charlotte was the closest thing to perfect he had ever seen. The first thing people noticed was her hair. It was curly. It fought the confinement of the pins her maid had put there. It gave the impression it might spring out at any second. Some pieces were peeking out already. He wondered what it looked like down. Her height, her skin, her lovely voice. A woman who had a soft voice he could imagine whispering in his ear and sending chills down his spine, was a woman he wanted to get to know.

  They made eye contact, and Phin felt a shiver down his spine. It was at once cold and hot. His blood flowed faster through his body as if it had b
een watered down. He could not tear his gaze away. He knew she felt something too. Her breath had become shallow.

  Phin thought he would find it difficult to transition from Indian women to the women in London. He was surprised it was not so. He liked Charlotte immediately upon meeting her. However, he also sensed she was not what he was looking for. There was an unmistakable liveliness in her eyes.

  “Phin, sit here, next to me,” Mercy said, patting the chair beside her. He looked up and turned, at once understanding that there was a gap in time from when Mercy introduced him to Charlotte and when Mercy sat down beckoning him by patting the chair.

  He must have looked ridiculous. He gave a small smile and bowed to Charlotte then sat next to his sister. When he looked up at Silas, his brother had his hand over his mouth, no doubt stifling a laugh. Already laughing at his expense. Silas would indeed have fun tonight.