The Duke of Lies Read online

  The Duke of Lies

  Darcy Burke

  Contents

  The Duke of Lies

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Thank You!

  Books by Darcy Burke

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  The Duke of Lies

  Verity Beaumont has suffered domineering men most of her life, first with her father and then with her husband. Free from both men, she has finally found peace. Even meeting a kind and hard-working gentleman who just might be the perfect father her young son so desperately needs. But as she dares look to the future, her carefully ordered world is shattered when her dead husband returns.

  * * *

  After six years away, Rufus Beaumont, Duke of Blackburn, returns to claim his place and protect his family. Only, the life he finds is not the life he left, and he must convince his wife that their marriage is worth fighting for, that he’s not the man he was. When the truth about what happened to him leaks out, he must prove that not everything about him, especially his love for her, is a lie.

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  The Duke of Lies

  Copyright © 2018 Darcy Burke

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  ISBN: 1944576282

  ISBN-13: 9781944576288

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Book design: © Darcy Burke.

  Book Cover Design © Carrie Divine/Seductive Designs

  Photo copyright: © Period Images

  Editing: Linda Ingmanson.

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-944576-24-0

  Created with Vellum

  For Lynda

  I may have inspired you to write a book, but you’ve returned the gift many times over. Thank you.

  Chapter 1

  Blackburn, England, April 1818

  As Verity Beaumont, Duchess of Blackburn, watched her six-year-old son cuddle the baby goat, she wondered if they would soon be adding to their menagerie. She’d come here to hopefully gain a steward, not another animal. Yet, if Beau asked her, she’d be hard-pressed to say no. He was her entire world, and she was unashamed to admit it.

  “He seems to have made a friend.”

  Verity turned to the former steward of Beaumont Tower, Percival Entwhistle, who went by the far less formal name of Whist, and gave him a plaintive stare. “Please do not offer a new pet. I can’t support one more animal with the dogs, cats, rabbits, and most recently a squirrel we already have.”

  Whist laughed and held up his hand. “I give my word, Your Grace.” He tilted his head toward the stable yard, where his grandson was dismounting from his horse. “Ah, here’s Thomas now.”

  Straightening, Verity patted the back of her head. She knew Thomas well as Whist’s grandson, but saw him less often since he’d gone to work as steward at a neighboring estate. Since then, she’d seen him on a few occasions, including at last week’s assembly, and was impressed with the knowledge he’d gleaned from his grandfather and the experience of being steward the last four years. If she were honest, she was also charmed by his pleasant demeanor and his dancing ability. But since she’d been alone these past six and a half years, perhaps she was easy to charm.

  After tending his horse, Thomas strode toward them, his mouth tipping into a warm smile. He swept his hat from his dark head and bowed to Verity, his lean frame bending easily. “Your Grace, it’s a pleasure to see you.”

  “And you, Mr. Entwhistle.”

  “Should we go inside to conduct our business?” Whist asked, gesturing toward his small cottage, which sat on the Beaumont Tower estate. Verity had provided him the home upon his retirement nearly seven years ago.

  She glanced toward Beau’s nurse, who stood nearby. The nurse nodded and returned her complete focus to her charge. Verity turned to Whist and Thomas. “Yes, let’s.”

  Whist motioned for her to precede him and followed her into the cottage. She took a seat in a chair that allowed her to see her son through the window. Whist and Thomas also sat, and watched her expectantly.

  “I do appreciate you meeting with me today,” Verity said, feeling suddenly nervous. Though she’d been the duchess for nearly seven years, she hadn’t fully inhabited the role. The steward, Cuddy, managed the estate almost entirely without her input, and while she oversaw the household, the staff was so efficient as to make her practically unnecessary. She rarely entertained visitors, and for the most part they only supported Verity and her son. It was, overall, a simple existence and one for which Verity was grateful because it allowed her to be relatively independent. Only relatively because her father still tried to exert his influence from time to time.

  He’d done a fair job of controlling things after Verity’s husband Rufus had disappeared, and Verity had endured his meddling for quite some time before asking him—firmly—to stop. She suspected, however, he still kept a hand in things because of Cuddy. Her father had referred him to Rufus when Whist had retired, and it seemed that Cuddy was still her father’s man. She could be wrong about that, but she wasn’t wrong about one thing—Cuddy wasn’t her man.

  Verity straightened her spine as she glanced out at Beau chasing a rabbit in front of the cottage. Suppressing a smile, she focused on the business at hand. “I asked to meet with you both because I’d like to make a change at Beaumont Tower.”

  Whist inclined his head. “And what would that be?”

  “I believe it’s past time I hired my own steward—someone I’ve selected and whom I can trust to manage things as I see fit.”

  “As you see…” Whist’s voice trailed off, and he coughed. “Am I to understand you wish to participate in the management of the estate?”

  “I am the duchess,” she said. “And in the absence of the duke, it is my responsibility to do so. In just a handful of months, my husband will likely be legally declared dead and my son will inherit the title. I owe it to him to ensure the estate is running smoothly.”

  Thomas’s brow creased with concern. “Do you have reason to believe it’s not?”

  “I’m not sure. When I ask Cuddy to review the accounts with me or to inform me how the tenants are faring, he promises to do so at some indeterminate time in the future. Only, that time never comes to pass. And when I visit the tenants on my
own, it’s clear Cuddy isn’t spending much time with them.”

  The furrows in Thomas’s forehead deepened as he exchanged a look with his grandfather. “Have you insisted he show you the account books?”

  Now she felt mildly embarrassed. “I haven’t insisted, no.”

  Thomas blinked, his dark lashes sweeping briefly over his bright blue eyes. “I didn’t mean to imply you should have. I beg your pardon. I was only trying to ascertain the tone of your communications with him. He should’ve showed them to you the first time you asked.” He pressed his lips into a firm line.

  Whist scoffed. “He should’ve shown them to you without your asking.” He looked at Verity with kindness and understanding. “What do you wish to do?”

  “I’d like to replace him.” She gave her sole attention to the younger man across from her. “With you, Thomas.”

  Whist’s mouth split into a wide grin. “That’s my boy. You’ve made an excellent decision, Your Grace.”

  A bit of color bloomed in Thomas’s cheeks. “I’m… I don’t know quite what to say. Thank you for your confidence, Your Grace.”

  “I know your grandfather trained you well, and while I hate to take you away from Bleven House, I need you more than they do.” She had no idea if that were true, but she did need him. Most desperately. It was past time she took control of things.

  Whist angled himself toward his grandson. “You’ve done an excellent job there, but this is an incredible opportunity. Entwhistles have been stewards at Beaumont Tower for over a hundred years.”

  The only reason an Entwhistle was no longer the steward was because Rufus had encouraged Whist to retire. Whist had demurred, but in the end, Rufus hadn’t given him a choice. Then, at her father’s behest, he’d installed Cuddy.

  Thomas turned his humbled gaze to Verity. “I’d be honored to accept the position. Of course, I’ll need to inform my current employer, and I wouldn’t want to leave immediately.”

  Whist nodded. “Certainly not. In the meantime, I can help take up the slack.” He looked to Verity. “That is, if you’d want me to.”

  Verity smiled warmly as some of the tension left her shoulders. “I should like nothing more. But only if you think you’re up to it.”

  He let out a soft chuckle. “I can do what needs be done while Thomas gets his affairs in order. When do you plan to let Cuddy go?”

  The anxiety that had just left returned to Verity’s frame with disturbing force. She oughtn’t be afraid to exert her authority as duchess, but she was nervous about telling the man he would no longer be employed at the estate. It wasn’t just his size—and Cuddy was a towering fellow with more than a bit of brawn—but his demeanor. He was always courteous and deferential, yet Verity had never felt comfortable around him. He possessed a nervous energy that put her on edge. She assumed it was just her but now found the courage to broach the subject.

  “How do you think he’ll take it?”

  “In a professional manner,” Whist said. “As he should. Why, do you have reason to think he’ll behave otherwise?”

  Then it was just her. But then she interacted with him far more than Whist did. “Not really,” she said, deciding not to pursue what were probably just silly concerns. She’d been isolated the last several years at Beaumont Tower, content to focus on her son. But now she was eager to break free of her constraints and exert her duty—and her power—as duchess. She owed it to her son if not herself.

  Thomas gave her an earnest stare. “If Cuddy gives you any trouble, I hope you’ll let us know immediately.”

  “I will, thank you.” She rose, and they stood along with her. “I’ll plan to speak with him tomorrow morning, so Thomas, if you’d like to inform your employer tomorrow, I’ll leave that up to you.”

  Thomas bowed. “I am deeply honored and grateful for the opportunity to serve you and the fine estate of Beaumont Tower, Your Grace.”

  “It is I who am honored and grateful,” Verity said with a smile. “Now, do stop that as I’ve never been one to appreciate obsequiousness.”

  Her new steward grinned as he straightened. “I’ll endeavor to remember that.”

  She liked his smile. It made her feel a bit more at ease at the coming change. “I should tell you that I plan to be very involved in the management of the estate—as involved as my husband would have been, if he were here.”

  “I find that an admirable enterprise,” Thomas said with a gleam in his eye. “I will ensure you fulfill the role you desire.”

  “Has it really been nearly seven years since His Grace went missing?” Whist asked.

  “It will be in August, yes.” It seemed a lifetime, and she supposed it was—their son’s lifetime. Rufus had not only never met his son, he’d never even known she was expecting. He’d left for London to bow before the king and hadn’t returned.

  Whist gave her a caring look that bordered on pity, something she was used to receiving and eager to cast aside. “It can’t have been easy, but soon you’ll be able to move on and let him go.”

  Oh, she’d let him go quite some time ago. Not long after he’d left, if she were honest. She was certain the marriage had been orchestrated by her father. A man she loathed had wed her to a man she’d come to detest. Thankfully, she’d had to endure Rufus for only a little more than three months before he’d vanished. She’d thanked God every single day and felt absolutely horrid for it.

  The mild smile she’d perfected over the past six and a half years rose effortlessly to her lips. “Thank you. I am quite eager to move on, and this sets me on that path.” She looked to Thomas. “I’ll send a note confirming the date of Cuddy’s departure.”

  Thomas nodded. “May I walk you out?”

  “Of course.”

  The trio left Whist’s cottage, and Beau ran directly into Verity’s skirts. “Mama, can we take the baby goat home?”

  She widened her eyes at Whist in silent appeal.

  The former steward coughed. “I’m afraid not.”

  Thomas squatted down to Beau’s level. “If you took her with you, she and her mother would be very sad. It would be like you leaving your mother. You wouldn’t wish to do that, would you?”

  Beau looked up at Verity, his green eyes wide. “No, I wouldn’t wish that at all.” His hand found hers, and she gave his fingers a squeeze.

  The boy snapped his head back to Thomas. “Then her mama will come with us too.”

  Thomas was quiet a moment, his expression thoughtful as he contemplated Beau’s earnest face. “That would certainly solve one problem, but I believe it would create another.” He glanced toward Whist. “You see, these are my Grandpapa’s goats, and he loves them dearly. He would be sad if they left. Perhaps you could come visit them?”

  Beau expelled a breath and looked longingly toward the goat pen. “I could.” He turned his gaze to Verity. “Can I, Mama?”

  “Of course.” And because her son could melt her heart like no other, she said, “Perhaps we should consider keeping a goat herd closer to the castle. Then you could help tend the babies.”

  Beau’s eyes lit, and his mouth spread into a wide, gleeful smile. “Oh yes! Let’s make Cuddy do that right away.”

  Verity laughed at his excitement while at the same time delighting in the fact that she soon wouldn’t have to “make Cuddy” do anything except leave. And she hoped that would occur without upset. “I will make sure it happens, my dear.” She looked down at Thomas, who gave her a firm nod.

  Her new steward grinned at Beau. “It seems we’ve come to an excellent conclusion for everyone.”

  Beau nodded. “Thank you for helping me solve this problem. Mama says solving problems is one of the most important things we must learn.”

  Thomas tipped his face up to Verity. “Your mama is right, and what a lucky boy you are to have her.” His gaze was warm with respect and perhaps something else that made Verity think of him in a different light—as a gentleman and not just her new employee. Well, that wouldn’t do.

/>   Before she could say it was time to go, Beau asked, “Where is your mama, Thomas?”

  “Oh, she died some time ago.” His voice held just a tinge of sadness.

  “My papa might be dead,” Beau said rather matter-of-factly. “But I think he’ll come home someday.” He leaned close to Thomas and lowered his voice to what he probably thought was a whisper but that was barely below a regular speaking tone. “I think he was kidnapped. Someday when I am big, I will rescue him and bring him home.”

  It was moments like these that pulled at Verity’s emotions. She’d never even hinted that Beau’s father had been awful, and the staff hadn’t either. They had to have been cognizant of the cruelty he’d heaped on Verity, but they’d never openly discussed it. She could only imagine the type of father he would have been to Beau. That was the primary reason she was grateful he was gone—she would have hated to see him mistreat her son. In fact, she wasn’t sure she could’ve borne it.

  So while she appreciated Beau’s need to romanticize his father, she remained somewhat neutral. Only in the last year or so had she begun to prepare Beau for the probability that his father wouldn’t return. Soon she would have to explain that Rufus was dead and that he—Beau—would be the duke. That wasn’t a conversation she looked forward to.

  “I have no doubt you will rescue him,” Thomas said solemnly. “And how fortunate your father is to have you as his champion.”

  Beau let go of Verity’s hand to put his hands on his hips. “Yes, I am his champion. Like a knight! I like to play knights.”

  Thomas chuckled. “I do too. Do you have a wooden sword?”

  Beau gave Verity a rather mutinous look. “No. Mama won’t let me have one because I kept running through the drawing room with it.”