The Duke and the Shy Wallflower

THE DUKE AND THE SHY WALLFLOWER A HISTORICAL REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL HANNA HAMILTON CONTENTS A Thank You Gift Before You Start Reading… 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 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Chapter 35 Chapter 36 Chapter 37 Chapter 38 Chapter 39 Epilogue Extended Epilogue Preview: A Marquess to Love Me Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Also by Hanna Hamilton About the Author A THANK YOU GIFT Thanks a lot for purchasing my book. It really means a lot to me, because this is the best way to show me your love. As a Thank You gift I have written a full length novel for you called A True Lady. It’s only available to people who have downloaded one of my books and you can get your free copy by tapping this link here. Once more, thanks a lot for your love and support. Hanna Hamilton BEFORE YOU START READING… Did you know that there’s a special place where you can chat with me and with thousands of like-minded bookworms all over the globe?! Join Cobalt Fairy’s facebook group of voracious readers and I guarantee you, you’d wish you had joined us sooner! Let’s connect, right NOW! Just click on the image above! ⇧ ABOUT THE BOOK “You are the light in my dark world, my Lady.” Charles, the Duke of Chester, has made a promise: he will never sire children, in fear of them inheriting his mother’s horrible addiction. Until a shy wallflower starts haunting his dreams.. Lydia feels like an ugly duckling among swans next to her elegant stepsisters. But a chance meeting with a dreamy duke changes everything.. As Charles is determined to show Lydia just how beautiful she truly is, Lydia knows she must convince him true love is worth the risk. But their fragile happiness is hanging by a mere thread, and ruin is just a breath away.. CHAPTER 1 "Ouch, that hurts!" Lydia exclaimed and almost leaped off the platform she was standing on. "Perhaps if you inhale just a wee bit more, Miss Lydia," Jemima, Lydia Campbell's lady's maid, said. Strain tinted her words, and when Lydia looked up, she caught Jemima's reflection in the mirror. The maid stood hunched at the waist, with her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth, pulling on the lacy material which stretched precariously across Lydia's chest. Lydia sighed and took a deep breath, sucking in her stomach as much as possible. But, of course, the buttons giving Jemima trouble weren't near her waist. The truth was the five lovely Dorset buttons that were causing the trouble were meant to close between Lydia's shoulder blades – and no holding in her stomach would make that area of herself smaller. Jemima let out a puff of air and ran the back of her forearm over her forehead. "Faith, Miss Lydia. I can't do them up. The top two won't close." She stemmed her hands on her hips. "It fit just fine last month." Lydia pressed her lips together as she examined herself in the mirror. There she was, standing on a low platform positioned in such a way as to make it easier for Jemima to dress her. At present, the dress Jemima attempted to squeeze Lydia into was a too delicate-for-her Pomona-green lace dress. It was a dazzling dress with hundreds of flowers hand stitched into the lace. The arms were poofy and looked like someone had blown into them, trapping the air. Lydia didn't care much about this design, but it was all the rage these days, and the ladies of the bon ton adored their puff sleeves. This creation, made by one of London's best modistes, Madam Lefever on Bond Street, had a demi-train and was to be paired with elbow-length, white gloves. Lydia hated gloves, especially white ones. Not only were they slippery, but they also always increased her tendency to be clumsy and drop things tenfold. Alas, a lady did not attend dinner without gloves and certainly wouldn't dream of venturing outside without them. She dipped her head to the side and watched as Jemima stepped back, arms crossed, with her lips pursed as she examined the dress’s open back. "Och! We ought to go back to the modiste. She must have made a mistake," she concluded in her Scottish drawl that Lydia loved so much. She sighed and pushed back a deep red curl that bounded her pale face. "There's nothing wrong with the dress, Jemima. I had a fitting a month ago, and since then, we had Addy's birthday and Papa's birthday. And do not forget, I visited my maternal grandmother in Bath, and you know how keen she is on pastries and sweetmeats" She smiled as she thought of her jovial grandmother who never tired of telling Lydia how much she looked like her late mother. She didn't get to see her grandmother, the only living member of her mother's family, very often as she was an eager traveler. However, that made her visits to her all the more special. While she felt loved by her father, stepmother, and stepsisters, there was nothing like a hug from her robust and sweet-natured grandmother, Hannah. She'd returned from her latest visit just a fortnight ago and the added weight she always carried after such a visit hadn't disappeared just yet. Not that Lydia minded. It wasn't as though she had a gentleman to impress, and she rather thought her cheeks looked nicer rounded and her hips womanlier. Not that her stepmother Ellen agreed...... "I dare say neither the buttons nor the modiste is to blame but rather the marzipan, sugared almonds,