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Prologue
Early 1806
His Grace, Archibald Winston Chamberlain, the Duke of Hertfordshire and Marquess of Hertford Heights, whose main estate Falconwood straddled the Hertfordshire-Buckinghamshire border, was in desperate need of a wife.
It was all his idiot son’s fault. Not six months previously, his son, Archibald, the younger, Marquess of Hertford Heights, died from the French disease, which had returned his title to the Duke. He was to marry, but when the damned Earl of Tamarin, father of the girl his son was to have as his wife saw evidence of the pox, he dissolved the engagement.
This fact was what led Hertfordshire to be seeking a new bride. He had his mistresses and was busy with some, on the women’s side, involuntary affairs—cuckolding other men was the greatest sport—but that would not give him an heir and he refused to accept he would be the last in his line, the final Chamberlain.
Finding a new wife should not have been as hard as it seemed to be.
Yes, he was no longer a young man. He was well into his sixth decade, but not counting the royals, he was second in wealth only to the Duke of Bedford which should have made him highly eligible. One would have thought the families of London’spolite society would have been falling over themselves to marry off their insipid daughters to him, however, that was not the case. He was not welcome in any homes of his fellow peers and members of theTonjust because two of his wives had died, supposedly from his abuse. How could he abuse property which belonged to him? It was his right to treat his wives as he saw fit.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The first one, he did not even remember her name, he had married in 1765. She had been a pretty little thing, but far too docile for him. Where was the fun in breaking a docile mare? It was so much better when, like a horse, there was spirit to break.
It was not his fault he had given her a light push and she had not been able to maintain her balance and had toppled down the stairs.
He married his next wife, Lady Felicia Eggerton, in 1774. She was the daughter of the Earl of Gryffinwood. Felicia had been even more beautiful than his first wife and had vivacity, spirit, and was somewhat impertinent. She had represented the exact kind of challenge in which Hertfordshire revelled.
For the first two years, he treated her well, never lifting a hand to her until she delivered him an heir. He had learnt from his experience with his first wife and had left Felicia be until a boy was born. As soon as little Archie had reached the age of one the Duke had been sure he would survive.
That was when he began his campaign to break his spirited wife. It had not taken as long as he had expected it would, only about a month. How was it his fault she fell off her horse while making a jump just because he had spooked the mount? She had fallen and broken her neck. By April 1778, he was the father of a son and was without a wife again.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
As long as his son was healthy, the Duke decided not to trouble himself with a wife for a third time. Five mistresses and two to three dalliances with married women at any one time were more than enough to keep him entertained.
His mistresses he could hit occasionally. They were living by his largesse so it was his right. The women he was having affairs with were a different story. He had to leave them unblemished so regardless of the rumours, there would be no marks leading back to him. So what if he forced himself upon them. He was a duke and it was his right!
Money and rank were wonderful aphrodisiacs, and he exuded both. However, as the years went by and his reputation went from bad to worse, married women resisted him so they had to beconvincedto do his bidding.
It angered him greatly that Lord Sedgewick Rhys-Davies, the Duke of Bedford, was wealthier than he was. His estate of Falconwood, which was on both sides of the Hertfordshire-Buckinghamshire border, was on par in size to Woburn Abbey. However where he owned seven additional estates—the biggest of which was Castlemere in Derbyshire, Bedford had ten. He owned shipbuilding yards, but so did Bedford. That which propelled the Duke of Bedford’s wealth far beyond Hertfordshire’s was the latter’s shipping line, Dennington Lines.
As wealthy as he was, it never sat well with him that he was the second wealthiest. Archibald Winston Chamberlain hated not being first in everything he did.
In May 1798, the Duke’s son had graduated from Oxford—barely. His Grace had to use his money and influence to affect his son’s completion of his studies. The son took after the father insofar as he loved wenching. He spent more time in brothels with courtesans than in class.
Unfortunately, the idiot was not very discriminating in the ladies of the night he frequented so by mid-1802, the Duke was made aware of the fact his son had contracted the French disease.
In 1805, the Duke convinced (with a huge bribe) the Earl of Tamarin to engage his only daughter to the Marquess of Hertford Heights. Four months later, clear evidence of the pox was visible on Archibald the younger’s person and the engagement had been ended.
At the age of eight and twenty, at the end of 1805, his son died from his malady. As angry as he was at his son, the Duke had mourned as would be expected of him, for six months.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
April 1806
Accepting that no family in polite society who knew him or of him would allow their daughter to become his wife—the one earl he had leverage on had no unmarried daughter, the Duke turned to looking in small towns.
