A Duke Torn Between Love and Duty (Preview)

Prologue

At eleven years old, Richard Kingsley was discovering feelings he’d never had. For the entire journey home from Eton, he hadn’t stopped thinking about his neighbour and best friend in all the world—Miss Celestina Thorpe. He bounded into the drawing room, excited to see her, only to find her sitting on the carpet in the corner with a frown. 

He hesitated, not understanding why she wasn’t as excited to see him, but his pause didn’t last long. He couldn’t contain himself. 

“Celestina!” he cried, throwing his bag in the vague direction of the maid and running to her. He skidded to a stop on his knees, a foot away from her. She didn’t look up. “Celestina?” he repeated. “I’m home. I’ll be here for an entire week! Have you missed me?”

Celestina pouted, then swivelled on her backside to look out the window. Rain trickled down the pane, the overcast sky thunderous outside. Richard felt a pinch of fear in his chest. He’d made friends at Eton, of course, but the only one he truly wanted to spend time with was eight-year-old Celestina. 

“Celestina?” he said again. “What’s wrong?”

“How was school?” she asked without looking back at him. “It feels like you’ve been gone forever.”

He chuckled. “It’s only been a few weeks, silly, but it’s been lots of fun. The other boys are so naughty. I have lots of tales to tell you. You won’t believe the things they get up to. One boy hid a frog in the headmaster’s desk drawer, and when he jumped out, the headmaster screamed like a girl! Can you imagine such a thing?”

Despite herself, Celestina glanced at him sideways, her lips pursed as she tried not to giggle. Richard knew that look well and knew he was close to winning her over. Then he only needed to find out what was wrong. 

“The headmaster was so angry that the boy received ten lashes with the cane! His backside was striped like a zebra.”

Celestina could no longer control herself and fell back with erupting laughter. She snorted. Richard smiled, pleased to see it finally. He did like it when she laughed. He loved it, in fact, and he knew already that he wanted to listen to that sound for the rest of his life. 

“I bet he won’t play with frogs again,” she said, turning back to him. Her eyes sparkled with delight, and he eagerly continued with his tales, hoping to inspire further happiness in her. 

“I bet,” Richard agreed. 

“Another friend—Andrew—tipped the contents of the chamber pot all over a passing footman in the yard.”

“Ew!” Celestina cried. 

“He was forced to scrub the footman’s clothes clean and made to apologize. He wasn’t very happy about it. He said what are servants for if not entertaining us, but I told him that wasn’t a very nice thing to say. Servants are just like us but different, isn’t that right?”

Celestina nodded sagely. “Daddy always says we should treat them well if we want them to treat us well.”

“Exactly. And no one wants to be covered in urine, do they?”

This time, Celestina shook her head firmly. “Absolutely not. It must have been very smelly.”

“It was indeed! Then, another day, Johnny, my best friend, stole a honey cake from the kitchen. We hid behind the school and shared it, and it was the nicest honey cake I’ve ever eaten! It was so good that we wanted another, so Johnny went in again. But this time he wasn’t quick enough, and Cook caught him before he could get out again. Got him right by the scruff of the neck, she did, and you should have heard some of the words she said. Like a sailor! Mother would call her a potty mouth.”

He caught his breath after letting the words stream out of him, and then he roared with laughter. But he’d been so embroiled in his story that he’d failed to notice Celestina had turned away again, this time with red cheeks and pouting lips and eyes that pooled with tears. 

“Oh, Celestina?” he said. He shuffled forward on his knees. He wanted to put his arm around her, as he’d seen his father comfort his mother when she was upset, but he didn’t dare. “Whatever’s the matter? Did I say something wrong?”

Celestina’s chin wobbled as she spoke. “Is he really your best friend? The bestest in all the world?” Her voice cracked as she spoke, her gaze firmly on the miserable weather outside. 

A lump formed in Richard’s throat. What a stupid thing to say! If he could have kicked himself, he would have. He hated seeing Celestina sad, and it wasn’t even true! Johnny wasn’t his best best friend. She was. 

“No, silly,” he said, shuffling even closer. “You are. Johnny’s just my school best friend.”

“And I’m your home best friend?” she asked, looking at him hopefully. 

He shook his head firmly, his brows furrowed like he’d seen his father do. “No, Celestina. You are my best overall friend. My best friend for everything.”

She turned tentatively to him. He was not quite forgiven, but she was coming around. “I wish I could go to Eton with you,” she said. “Then I could be your school best friend too. And we’d have lots of fun. I’m not scared of frogs.”

Richard giggled, imagining her sneaking frogs into desk drawers. Knowing her, she would do it as well. At least, she would when she was out from under the scrutinizing gaze of her parents. She was not the timid soul they thought her to be, and Richard suspected she would become quite eccentric as she grew older. 

“I wish you could come, too,” he said. “Then we could all be friends together. But you know they don’t let girls in. It would be chaos if they did!”

She pouted again. “I know. You’re right.” She pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them, resting her chin on her knees. “I do hope you won’t forget me, though.” 

Richard scoffed. “How could I ever forget you?” He gazed at her. 

Even at that tender age, Richard understood that he loved her. It was not yet fully formed, nor did he truly understand what that meant, but he already knew he admired her and wanted to be near her as often as possible. 

Celestina shrugged. Richard shuffled so that he was sitting in front of her, an idea forming in his mind, and he dipped his head, hoping to catch her eye. 

“Do you want to know another thing I heard about in school?” he said in a whisper. 

“Not really,” she muttered. “I’d far rather you be Home Richard and not School Richard now.”

“Yes, but I think you’ll like this one. There’s something people do when they are the very best of friends. The other boys talk about it all the time, and I even read about it in one of the adventure books we were reading, so it must be true.”

Curiosity lit up her eyes, and she raised her head, her expression urging him to go on. 

“It’s called …” He looked around to check that no one was listening, then whispered it regardless, just in case. “It’s called a blood oath.”

Celestina’s gasp was just the reaction he was looking for, and he sat back on his heels with a satisfied expression. 

“A blood oath? What’s that?” she asked.

“It links people together forever and ever. Like real best friends. When two people’s blood mixes, it binds them, and it means they will always be there for one another, no matter what.”

“No matter what other friends they’ve got?” she asked.

“Their other friends are not blood friends.”

“Or what school they go to?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“And no matter where they go and what they do?”

“Bound together as best friends for eternity. What do you say to that?”

Celestina’s frown turned into a hopeful grin. “I think that sounds wonderful,” she said. “What do we have to do?”

Richard sat up and dug around the pockets of his shorts, his pink tongue sticking out of his mouth. It wasn’t in the first, so he reached deep into the second, avoiding the bits of fluff and discarded marbles until he laid his hands on the cool metal. He triumphantly pulled it out of his pocket, holding it up in the air. 

“Ah ha!” he cried. Celestina stared up at it with a mix of awe and wonder, as if she hadn’t seen it a million times before. 

“My father gave me this pocket knife when I first went to Eton,” he said. “It’s very special, which means it will help bond us even more.”

“But what do we do with it?” whispered Celestina, eyes wider than he’d ever seen them.

“We cut our palms until blood flows,” he said. “Then we press them together. When our blood mixes, we vow always to be best friends. And then it’ll be done.”

She looked terrified, and all of a sudden, Richard thought he shouldn’t have said anything at all. He had been hoping to make her feel better, to reassure her, but he seemed to have frightened her instead. 

“It’s all right,” he said, quickly shoving the knife back into his pocket. “We don’t have to. It was a silly idea.”

“No!” She lunged forward and pulled his hand out of his pocket, and then she pried open his fingers to get at the small silver knife. “I want to do it.”

Richard grinned. She was so eager to be his friend forever, which made his insides feel very good. 

“Very well,” he said. “Give me the knife.”

She handed it over solemnly, taking the moment very seriously. He flicked open the blade. 

First, he held the knife to his palm and he looked into her eyes. “Celestina Thorpe, I hereby promise you that I will be your friend forever and ever.” He expected her to giggle, but she didn’t. Instead, she stared back at him, the moment between them intense and powerful. “I will always be there for you,” he continued. “No matter what happens, and no matter where we are. All right?”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, then he pushed the knife into his palm, wincing as it sliced through his flesh. He opened one eye and looked down, thrilled to see deep red, thick blood beading at the surfacing. He looked up at Celestina and grinned. 

“All right,” he said. “Your turn. Are you ready?”

Again, she bit her bottom lip and nodded. He could see she was frightened, but he could equally see her determination, which made him admire her all the more. 

“Do you want me to do it for you?” he asked. 

She shook her head, taking the knife from him. “No. I can do it.” 

She put the knife to her hand and took in a deep breath. “Richard Kingsley. I promise to always be your friend and never let you down.” 

She closed her fingers around the knife and, after a moment’s hesitation, squeezed her hand around the blade. She hissed through her teeth but was brave enough to keep her eyes open the entire time. She didn’t even look down at her palm. She simply held it up for Richard to take. He watched her, open-mouthed with awe, then put his hand against hers and clasped it. 

“That’s it,” he said. “We’re bound together in a blood oath for eternity.”

Chapter One

Twenty years later

“I really am sorry, Mrs Courtenay,” the solicitor said, a pained expression on his face. “I really wish I had better news, but I’m afraid I don’t. The plain truth of the matter is that your husband left no provisions for you whatsoever in the event of his death.”

Celestina simply stared at him through the black lace that fell from her bonnet and covered her face. She blinked away the tear that beaded on her lash and swallowed. 

At the tender age of eight-and-twenty, Mrs Celestina Courtenay’s life had changed dramatically. When her parents died in a carriage accident four months previously, she had thought it bad enough. But then David had died, and now this. She had nothing left. She had no one. And she had nowhere to turn. 

“But I don’t understand,” she said softly. “My husband was a successful businessman, Mr Chambers. That’s why we moved to London in the first place. Imports and exports, he always said. Something about textiles. What has happened to that?”

Mr Chambers shrugged, slipping his sheath of parchment into his leather-bound folder. “I don’t know what to tell you, Mrs Courtenay, except whatever was there at one time is no longer there now. Your husband was on the brink of bankruptcy. Perhaps you might get better answers by speaking to his business partner.” He stood up and threw her a pitying look, one she pointedly ignored. “Now, can I do anything for you before I leave?”

Celestina pressed her lips together and shook her head. She didn’t want anything except her life back, and the solicitor couldn’t give her that. In that case, she wanted only to be alone. 

“No, thank you, Mr Chambers.”

“Very well. I will see myself out. Good luck in the future, Mrs Courtenay.” He nodded to the row of servants lined up behind her, their hands folded neatly in front of them as they, too, became privy to the news. “Goodbye, all.”

“Yes,” Celestina muttered, though she had yet to pull her eyes from the shine on the drawing room floor. She’d had the maid polish it especially for Mr Chambers’ visit today. How pointless it all seemed now. In a few months, it would no longer be her floor. 

She didn’t see the solicitor leaving but heard the front door close softly behind him. She felt the heavy, oppressive presence of her staff behind her, waiting patiently. Awkwardly, no doubt. As uncertain and worried as she was. 

I shall have to let them all go, she realized, which only served to make her heart wrench further. In their eight years in London, Celestina had grown close to this dear group of dedicated servants. They’d been so good to her, and now she had little choice but to turn them out onto the streets. Why, she herself would be on the streets soon enough as well. 

After a long and uncomfortable moment, one of the maids perked up. “Shall I make some tea, Mrs Courtney?” she asked with that false brightness of someone trying to lighten the mood. 

“What?” She turned and looked at the girl. “Oh, yes, thank you, Annie. A little tea goes a long way in healing the broken-hearted, or so my mother always used to tell me.”

“And with a drop of honey,” young Annie said before skipping off to the kitchen. 

It seemed that this broke the spell on the rest of the household, and though Celestina was in no doubt that they were all worried about their positions, they left to go about their daily duties. Only Sylvia, her lady’s maid, stayed behind. She moved around to the front of the couch and sat with her mistress. 

“It’ll be all right,” she said, patting her hand tenderly like one might pet a frightened dog. “Everything always works out for the best in the end.”

Celestina raised the dark veil from her face, revealing moss-green eyes that pooled with tears of sadness, grief, and fear. Her auburn curls fell around cheeks so pale they might have been made of alabaster. She was slim in body and short in stature, but she had a fire within her that had almost—though not quite—been extinguished by recent events. 

She’d had little experience in her life. Her parents decided everything for her until they handed her over to her husband, David, who was fifteen years her senior. Then, he took over their role, and Celestina played the part of the submissive, docile housewife. Without any of them, how could she survive? She could barely decide what to wear, let alone how to live her life. That’s not to say they were cruel. Oh no. They only ever wanted the best for her, to protect and love her. David had been a kind and gentle man, but he’d been jealous and protective too. 

He’d never seen the real Celestina, the part of her she hid from the world. Inside, buried deep where people couldn’t find it, there was so much more to her—intelligence, independence, curiosity. A desire for more, for adventure. They’d tried to smother those flames, her parents and her husband, and they’d almost succeeded. 

Indeed, only one person had ever seen the true Celestina. Her childhood friend, Richard Kingsley. She almost smiled at the thought of who he would be now after all these years, but she pushed the thought away, as she always did when he entered her mind. He was the past, and she needed to find a way to face the future. 

Now, she needed to find ways to bring that fire out of her again. Her world had come crashing down around her, and she didn’t know where to start picking up the pieces. 

“Here we are,” Annie said in a sing-song voice, dashing into the room with a tea set on a silver tray. Celestina forced a smile as she watched it being placed on the low table before her, and then the tea poured from the silver pot. “I’ve added extra honey for you today, Mrs Courtenay,” Annie said. “See if we can’t sweeten up this day, ey?”

“You are too kind, Annie,” Celestina said as she took the cup from her. She raised it to her nose and inhaled deeply. The scent of honey danced with the earthiness of the tea. She wished it truly did have the healing properties so purported. Annie scuttled away, and with a sigh, Celestina returned the cup to the saucer on the table; her appetite for tea vanished. 

“What am I going to do, Sylvia?” she asked, looking pleadingly at her lady’s maid. 

At thirty years of age, Sylvia Taylor was not much older than Celestina herself, though she was in many ways wiser. She had experience of the world and the people out there. She knew what to expect. Her dirty blonde hair had been neatly twisted into a bun, and her blue eyes spoke of loyalty and dedication. They’d been together since before Celestina and David had married. Celestina didn’t know how she would cope without her. 

“We’ll find a way to get through it,” Sylvia said. She smiled warmly, though Celestina knew it for what it was—a humouring smile. Celestina laughed. 

“We will do no such thing,” she said. “You heard the solicitor as well as I did. I am destitute, Sylvia. There is no money left.”

“Perhaps,” Sylvia said, ever the optimist. “But we’ve been through difficult times before and got through them. We’ll get through this, too.”

Celestina scoffed, not quite believing what she was hearing. There was no getting through this. She would have to find employment, she supposed. 

“But you don’t understand,” she said. “There is no money left. No provisions were made. That doesn’t only affect me, Sylvia, but you and all the other members of staff, too. I can’t afford to pay any of you what you rightly deserve. You will have to find employment elsewhere.”

Sylvia squeezed her hand and shook her head. “Don’t you worry about that, Celestina,” she said, the pair having long ago done away with propriety. They were as good as friends now, after all. “I’ve told you before, short of death, I shall be by your side always.”

“But death has graced this house with his presence, and now I have no choice.”

Sylvia shrugged, the smile on her face ever-present. “Maybe not, but I do. And I choose to stay with you. I know it might be difficult, and we’ll have to find a way to survive, but together, we can do that. I won’t leave you simply because you’ve encountered a little financial difficulty.”

With that, Celestina burst into tears. The dam broken, Celestina released everything, crying into the arms of her maid. She thought of how life came to this, of all the things she’d already missed out on. She thought, too, of her husband’s kindness, for though he was controlling, he was, at heart, a good man. She thought of how successful his business had been and how it made no sense that there was nothing left. 

“You are too kind, too, Sylvia,” she said once the tears dried up. She looked at her maid with dry eyes and an ache in her throat. “But you know I can’t let you do it. Your loyalty is admirable, but I couldn’t expect you to do such a thing. I will give you a good reference, and you will find safe and comfortable employment.”

“I beg to differ,” Sylvia said, still smiling. “You don’t have much of a choice. I shan’t leave your side simply because things have become difficult. I know, in time, it will get better. You’ll find your way, and then we can be happy again. But in the meantime, you need support, and that’s what I’m here for.”

Celestina wanted to cry again, this time with overwhelming gratitude for this kind and loving woman. She had already given Celestina so much of her life, and now she was willing to share in the dark times if only to support her mistress. 

“You have become my best friend as well as my maid. Do you know that?”

Sylvia nodded. “I know. I feel the same.”

Feeling a little calmer, at least, Celestina picked up her teacup and finally took a sip. The sweetness was overpowering but delicious. When she put the cup back down, she said, “What I don’t understand is where the money has gone.”

“Perhaps business hasn’t been so good of late,” Sylvia suggested. 

Celestina looked at her and frowned. “But it’s not only the business. My parents left me an inheritance which David assured me more than once was safely in the bank. Where is that money now? Mr Chambers said it’s all gone, but it can’t be. Even David wouldn’t spend my inheritance. Would he?”

“Did you trust him entirely?” Sylvia asked. “Excuse me if that’s a personal question, but do you think he may have lied to you?”

Celestina shook her head firmly. “David was a lot of things, and he had many faults. But he was not a liar.”

Sylvia threw her that pitying look again, and it frustrated Celestina. She didn’t need pity; she needed answers. 

“Now,” Sylvia said, patting her hand. “Why don’t I go and sort you a nice bath while you finish your tea? It might make you feel a little better.”

“And it might be the last I can have for a while,” Celestina said with a snort of dark humour she had forgotten she had. She picked her teacup up, sat back on the couch, and curled her legs beneath her, not caring how unladylike it made her look. There were only servants left now anyhow, and they’d be leaving her soon as well. 

All but dearest Sylvia. 

Her life hadn’t all been bad. As she sipped her tea, she allowed herself to slip into the past. Though her parents had always been domineering, she’d had Richard. He tumbled into her mind again, and this time, she let him, smiling at how he used to make her laugh. He would tease her relentlessly, chase her around the woods near their estates.

The son of their neighbours, Charles and Mathilda Kingsley, Richard had become her best friend the day she had been born, his little three-year-old eyes curious and fascinated. As they’d grown older and he’d gone off to Eton, her feelings for him grew into something more. Something akin to love. 

Now, she sighed, staring into the teacup as if it could roll back the years. She’d never revealed her feelings for him lest he reject her, and besides, her parents had had a plan for her since birth. Even as an infant, they’d had a husband in mind for her. And once she was married … well, it was no longer appropriate to even think about Richard. 

She’d pushed him out of her mind for good because it wasn’t fair or respectful to her husband. After all, she had never hated David. Quite the opposite, she had loved him in her way. Perhaps it was more a sisterly love than a romantic one, but they’d grown close enough over time. He’d been kind to her, and she owed him that much in return. 

She took another sip of rapidly cooling tea and rested her head against the couch. She wondered idly what Richard would be like now. Would he still have hair the colour of nighttime? Or eyes the colour of warm iron? Would he still have that boundless energy with which he’d bounced around the gardens? 

“Maybe he’ll even be married,” she muttered, staring up at the ceiling. 

She pursed her lips, the thought of him married sending pains through her. She hated the thought of him with a wife, but she had no right to such emotions. After all, she had married, hadn’t she? He could easily have done the same. And besides, he’d never loved her, not in the way she had loved him. Why would he? They were children, and she’d had nothing to offer him. The path of her life had been designed for her, but Richard had freedom and plenty of ambition to go with it. 

With a groan, she sat back up. Thinking about the past had done her no good at all. It had only made her realize how much she’d lost. If her parents could see her now, they’d be so dreadfully disappointed. In a matter of weeks, Celestina would not only be widowed and poor, but she’d be homeless, too. 

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“A Duke Torn Between Love and Duty” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Celestina Courtenay has always followed the rules and done as she was told. When her husband dies leaving her with nothing though, her entire life is thrown into disarray. She’s surrounded by men who offer her help, but she doesn’t know whom to trust—if anyone. At least she has her maid and good friend Sylvia to rely on. In a moment of desperation, an old friend offers her a job, sparking memories of past affection. With a blend of apprehension and resolve, Celestina seizes this opportunity, yearning for stability amidst chaos.

Will this support bring along a new hope for Celestina’s future?

Richard Kingsley was surprised to find himself quickly ascending the ranks of nobility when his distant uncle died. As the new Duke of Exeter, he takes his role very seriously. Upon hearing about the plight of his childhood sweetheart, Celestina, his heart stirs with a mix of duty and lingering affection. The memory of their innocent, youthful bond fuels his desire to help her, but he knows Celestina’s fierce independence all too well. Crafting a plan that allows him to extend his support without it seeming like mere charity becomes his mission.

Will he manage to bring her closer without her taking offence?

Celestina returns to Richard’s world and their affection awakens. Yet, his mother’s interference and a rival’s threats loom large. Will Celestina and Richard overcome everyone’s disapproval? If only Richard could succeed in safeguarding her from harm… Most importantly, will the flame of their old feelings flicker back to life again?

“A Duke Torn Between Love and Duty” is a historical romance novel of approximately 90,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

Get your copy from Amazon!