The Scarred Duchess Deal

THE SCARRED DUCHESS DEAL A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel HARRIET CAVES Contents Α Special Gift For You… Before You Start Reading… Love to Read? 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 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Epilogue Extended Epilogue Preview: Alone with the Beastly Duke Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Also by Harriet Caves Loved the Book? About the Author Α Special Gift For You… Thank you so much for downloading my book! Would you be so kind as to accept this free book as a small token of my appreciation? A Wicked Kind of Countess is a sizzling romance for all my new readers and it’s completely free! And you can claim your free copy by clicking the image below or this link here! You are the best! 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In contrast to most gentlemen, who are forced into marriage, the Duke of Huxton made his dying mother a promise he can never break: never marry and never sire an heir. And he intends to honor her memory. Until… a lady unlike any other stumbles into his arms. Chapter One “How can anybody expect to create beautiful works of art with something so hideous in the room?” The words hung in the air like pungent smoke. They lingered, unwarranted and cruel as the entirety of Anna Windrop’s embroidery group exchanged nervous glances. They all knew who Dorothea Abernathy was referring to – it was sheer ingrained social politeness that kept their eyes off the person in question. Anna could feel the burden of conversation shift to her. It was her home, her drawing room, and her embroidery group after all. Each of the members looked to her to smooth over the faux pas so that they could resume their needlework. Anna laughed uncomfortably. She hoped that she might be able to pass off the rude comment as being attributed to Dorothea’s old age. That was no excuse for rudeness, but it was better to blame that than for Anna to admit that it might have been a mistake to invite the elderly woman in the first place. It was not as if Dorothea’s hands were steady enough to hold the needle anyway. They had not been able to display a single one of her creations in years. “Good heavens, Dorothea, your tongue wags more freely with each birthday you celebrate.” Mercifully, the others in the room joined in the nervous laughter as if somehow they could move forward. “More tea?” Anna added in hopes of changing the subject further as she glanced at her niece and ward from the corner of her eye. Tessa Windrop kept her eyes trained down on the work in her hands. She had sat in the darkest corner of the room on purpose hoping that it would draw less attention to her and her… disfigurations. She hated that the heat in her face was likely to cause a blush of embarrassment that would be witnessed by everyone in the room. She could feel their eyes turn to her one at a time… but only one was outright staring at her. Tessa knew that if she looked up, her cousin Sophie would only laugh at her. She would do so in a way not to be noticed by her mother, Anna, but Tessa would be embarrassed all over again. There was not a thing she could do about it either – the embroidery group was the thing that her aunt loved most in the whole world… disrupting it would be hell for the entire household. Needles started to move over canvases. Brightly colored bits of thread started to pass from one hand to the other again. Anna exhaled slowly. It seemed as if the worst was over – but she was wrong. “Perhaps if she wore a little bit more rouge it would be less noticeable?” Another woman interjected. She had the decency to phrase it as if it were a helpful suggestion instead of an outright insult – but Tessa was just as offended as if she had not bothered. “No! Only ladies of the night wear rouge that bright!” “Then perhaps a large ribbon bound around a bonnet at all times?” “Oh, or a decorative hat!” “Perhaps, instead, she could style her hair in a different fashion? You know, I have heard that the women in France–” “Do not be daft. That would only attract more attention to her! We wish to have fewer people looking at her!” Tessa knew that if she bothered saying even a single word in her own defense that it would only offend them and make matters worse. It was all that she could do to keep herself focused on the needle and thread in her hand. She needed to make neat, orderly lines in order for the picture to come out clearly. She needed to ensure