A Duke’s Scandalous Obsession (Preview)

Chapter One

 Lady Catherine Stanhope looked like a vision of grace and refinement at the opulent ballroom of Lord and Lady Chatham’s lavish residence, but she certainly didn’t feel like it. In fact, she felt exactly the opposite, as if every single lady present knew how to behave in polite society, but her. That had a little to do with her being just a mere debutante, newly out in society, and a lot to do with her simply being herself, a shy little wallflower. The fact that her brother, Lord Reginald Stanhope, the Earl of Somerset, was by her side, seemed to help a little, but she knew that she could not very well remain his shadow for the entire duration of the evening’s festivities. 

Catherine believed she was ready for this. She had repeated that statement several times in the sanctity of her bedchamber as she stared at her reflection in the looking glass, but the hurried beating of her heart assured her that she was not. All that assurance in front of the looking glass, all that repetition of how do you do’s and other meaningless niceties people were forced to exchange on such occasions, did not help either. 

The grandeur of this occasion seemed to overwhelm her, her demure features adorned with a rosy blush as she navigated through the thick ocean of elegantly clad guests, who were all beaming with pride and importance at being there. For a moment, she contemplated excusing herself with a headache or any such other frivolous excuse ladies tend to resort to and simply ending the evening’s torture right then and there. But she had promised her brother she would endure the entire evening, and it was a promise she intended to keep.  

Determined to at least alleviate her unease, her brother Reginald, a stately figure in his own right, leaned closer to her, whispering in her ear. “See that gentleman over there with the impeccably waxed moustache?” he asked softly, and she nodded in response, looking in the direction of the aforementioned gentleman, who would absent-mindedly rub the edges of his moustache with his fingers as he spoke. “Rumor has it he practices his bowing techniques in front of the mirror every morning. Quite the dedication to elegance, I must say.” 

Catherine could understand that feeling very well. She also couldn’t help but chuckle so loudly that a nearby group of young ladies turned to her with a look of disapproval. Catherine immediately turned grave. She had forgotten one of the most important rules of being a prim and proper lady. She was never to laugh so openly as to show too much of her teeth or to be overheard by those not intended to listen. That was her first faux pas of the evening, and she was certain that there would be many more to come.

Although she herself was dressed impeccably in a resplendent gown of silk and lace, and her auburn curls were delicately arranged, secured with a pearl-encrusted comb, Catherine couldn’t help but feel somewhat inadequate to them, almost as if there was no room for her in their world. Truth be told, it was not a world she wanted to be a part of, anyway. 

“Pay no heed, Cate,” Reginald gently tugged her by the elbow, making her focus on him once again. As always, he could easily sense her discomfort, and he always knew the cause of it. “Those ladies live for drama. Floral drama.” 

“Floral drama?” Catherine wondered, already on the verge of another chuckle, which she managed to suppress this time. 

“Mhm,” Reginald nodded importantly, taking a sip from his glass, only to continue a moment later. “They spend hours discussing the language of flowers and its intricate nuances. I once overheard them debating the symbolism of a daisy versus a tulip, and neither could be convinced of the supremacy of the other.” 

Catherine giggled softly as the tension in her shoulders eased. That did sound like a silly thing to argue about indeed. “A secret society of petal enthusiasts. Your insights really make this ball far more interesting, dear Reggie.” 

And far less intimidating, but she kept this part to herself. 

“Oh, but I’m not done,” Reginald replied, looking around in search for his next verbal victim. “How about the afficionados of cucumber sandwiches over there?” 

“The what?” Catherine almost released a chuckle through her nose, a crime punishable by yet another scornful look. Fortunately, she remained a lady in every sense of the word, dictated by the ton, and the chuckle died inside of her. She wondered how many of those little glimmers of joy died inside of her, never to see the light of day just because the ton deemed them inappropriate. It seemed like a downright shame, in her humble opinion. 

“You heard me right,” Reginald nodded importantly. “I’ve heard that they formed a clandestine society dedicated to the delicate art of sandwich critique. One bite, and they can discern the quality of the entire soiree.” 

Strangely enough, he was right. Two gentlemen were nibbling on cucumber sandwiches, frowning, then nodding, as they exchanged notes. It was possible that they weren’t talking about cucumbers or sandwiches at all, but Catherine found that believing that made her feel even more comfortable at the ball, where she felt she didn’t belong. 

“And her?” She dared to point barely noticeably at a lady with an extravagant feathered hat. To be quite honest, she was certain that she was not the only one asking about her. Reginald quickly looked in that direction and his eyes widened with mischief, seeing an opportunity to hone his skills. 

“Now, that hat is a masterpiece in avian architecture.”

“Quite so,” Catherine was unable to suppress her chuckle, but she turned towards Reginald, focusing on him, while he himself cast casual glances behind her, taking a closer, more introspective look at the lady in question. 

“The birds in the garden must have been exchanging fashion tips with her. Quite the trendsetter, isn’t she?” he pointed out, lifting his eyebrow amusedly as he spoke. 

Catherine couldn’t help but feel grateful to her brother, not only for being there, but also for his witty observations, which seemed to transform the ball into a delightful spectacle that they could share together. She could always rely on him to make any occasion more bearable. In fact, she could rely on him for anything she needed. He was her brother, her friend, her confidant, but most importantly, he was the only family she had, the only one she could turn to in an hour of need, knowing that he would be there for her no matter what. That feeling always eased her mind, especially in situations such as that one. 

As Catherine was slowly starting to find her place in this hustle and bustle, Lady Chatham, their gracious host, approached them with a warm smile and outstretched arms. 

“Lady Catherine, Lord Reginald,” she greeted them, touching both their shoulders as she stopped before them. “It is such a pleasure to have you in our midst this evening. I trust the evening finds you well?” 

Despite the woman’s considerable frame, she somehow managed to carry herself with regal grace, the soft curves of her figure hinting at a life well-enjoyed. The sound of her laughter, rich and infectious, always made her a welcome guest at any ball and in any home. This evening, she was adorned in a glorious gown that shimmered with opulent fabrics and intricate lace. Her bejeweled fingers and neck sparkled in the light, each gem a testament to her station in society.  

Catherine offered a polite curtsy, her shy smile illuminated by the glow of the chandeliers above. “Thank you, Lady Chatham. The ball is truly enchanting, and your hospitality is beyond reproach, as always.” 

“You are most kind to say so, my dear,” Lady Chatham chirped in response, a host who loved to hear that her guests were enjoying themselves. “And how is your esteemed uncle, Lord Pembroke?” 

Reginald responded with a measured politeness. “He is quite well. Thank you for inquiring. He is currently attending some business matters out of London and sends both his regards, as well as his regret that he was not able to attend your annual ball this evening, which he was really looking forward to.” 

“Why, that is why it is an annual affair, my dear,” Lady Chatham chuckled at her own words, gesturing busily with her hands as she spoke. “There is always next year!” 

Both Catherine and Reginald smiled out of sheer politeness. Something told Catherine that Reginald, just like her, might find a clever excuse the following year, just like their uncle did, and skip this artificial smile festival. 

“Well, I apologize, but I do have to greet other guests as well, I wouldn’t want anyone to feel left out,” Lady Chatham excused herself, drifting away to attend to other guests, leaving Catherine and Reginald with a sigh of relief. Although she meant well, sometimes, she was a bit overwhelming in Catherine’s opinion, especially when she felt that she could help someone in need, someone who didn’t really need help.

The Stanhope siblings were well-off, living off the estate left by their deceased parents. It was a sad topic for everyone involved, as their mother died shortly after the birth of her daughter, who was the younger child, and their father seemed to die of a broken heart several years later. 

Those were indeed challenging times for both Catherine and Reginald, who were eventually looked after by a distant yet benevolent uncle. While the man made sure that the children were never in need of anything, he omitted to provide the most important thing a child needed, and that was the love of a caring parent. It was simply a void that could not be filled by any amount of wealth. As a result, Catherine and Reginald found solace in each other’s company, forming a very deep bond. 

Catherine tried not to dwell on the past, especially not at a moment like this, when the present required her full focus. Her eyes surveyed the lively scene, observing the ladies as well as gentlemen, when unexpectedly, her gaze unintentionally locked with that of a gentleman standing right across the room. In that single second, she was able to observe everything about him and lock it inside her mind. 

There was something about him that instantly set him apart in the glittering assembly of all the other gentlemen. Tall and impeccably attired in a well-tailored coat that accentuated his broad shoulders and muscled arms, he stood there with a self-assured grace that turned heads. Indeed, her attention was not the only one he had managed to catch. A nearby assembly of ladies was whispering something in a hushed manner, occasionally glancing at him, and Catherine knew they could only be talking about him. 

His dark, wavy hair framed a strong jawline and only seemed to make his features even more striking. The subtle hint of a well-groomed beard added a touch of rugged, almost careless elegance to his appearance. She could not see the shade of his eyes from so far away, but whatever color they were, they held a magnetic intensity she could not deny. 

“… and I thought that was hilarious, don’t you agree?” Reginald spoke, drawing Catherine back to the present moment. She reluctantly pulled away from the mysterious stranger, turning to Reginald, blinking heavily. “Cate? Cate, are you even listening to me?” 

Caught off guard, Catherine blinked heavily, revealing a flicker of surprise in her gaze. “Yes? Oh, yes indeed… quite hilarious. I definitely agree, Reggie.” 

That was when she realized that she was a bit too assertive in her comments, as Reginald tilted his head a little, amused. “What is?” 

“What is what?” she asked, clearing her throat, realizing that she had been caught. She was not listening to a single word he had just said, and he knew it. He could always just take one look at her and know whatever it was she was endeavoring to hide. 

“What is hilarious?” he repeated the question, crossing his arms in the level of his chest, almost like a governess waiting to catch a naughty child in a lie, knowing that it was only a matter of time before the child betrayed its own self.

“Well… that… what you just said,” Catherine mumbled, gesturing with her hands for support, much to her brother’s delight. 

“You are a dreadful liar, Cate,” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in for an affectionate embrace. “Always have been. What has caught your attention so much that you forgot all about your dear old brother telling you a rather funny story?” 

Catherine hesitated for a moment, refusing to allow her eyes to wander toward the other end of the room and expose her. “Oh, nothing worth mentioning, I assure you.” 

“So, you are that bored that you have to imagine being elsewhere?” he continued to tease good-humoredly, which he was always wont to do. 

“Well, you don’t seem to be having a lot of fun either,” she replied playfully, deciding that turning the tables on him would be the safest option to play this game. 

“Au contraire, my dear sister,” Reginald spoke theatrically, as usual. “I am bored now, yes. But someone’s arrival will change that, I assure you.” 

“Whose arrival?” she wondered curiously, although she could venture a good guess.

“Why, Annabel’s, of course,” he clarified, then seemed to change the topic hastily, afraid that someone might overhear them. “Now, have you tried the petits fours? Lady Chatham’s catering never disappoints.” 

Reginald took her by the hand and led her to the table laden with all sorts of delicacies. Catherine could almost feel the scorching gaze of the stranger, burning a hole in the back of her head, yet she dared not turn around. Acknowledging him in any manner would mean putting herself in the spotlight, and that was the last place she wanted to be. 

No. She would simply remain the wallflower she always had been, endure this ball and retire to the safety and comfort of her own four walls, with the company of her books and flowers being more than enough. 

Chapter Two

 Dominic Worthington, the Duke of Fairhaven, decided that he would wait to collect his dance. Any lady would do. The will did not specify. All it specified was that he had exactly a year left. That meant that the clock was ticking dangerously fast. 

Usually, these festivities were bothersome to him. He would much rather spend the evening at White’s with a few close friends, indulging in a friendly game of cards and a few drinks. Those evenings were always fun. But being a duke and one of the wealthiest gentlemen in London came not only with its perks, but also with its obligations, which he could not escape, no matter how much he wanted to. Attending Lord and Lady Chatham’s annual ball was one of those obligations. 

On a rare occasion, he would indulge in one of the vices known to every man, no matter what station he belonged to: watching. One of the advantages of being friends with both the host and the hostess was that he was able to ensconce on a private balcony, and enjoy a solitary drink there, merely observing the gathering lords and ladies. They came and went like ants, busy with nonexistent affairs they had created to make themselves feel and seem important. 

That was when he noticed her first. 

The woman took his breath away. Her gown shimmered like moonlight on water, perfectly accentuating her porcelain skin that glowed under the light of an endless row of candles. Her eyes, pools of warmth, sparkled with a hint of curiosity and intrigue as she observed the scene around her. She looked slightly out of place, just like himself. That only seemed to heighten the attention and admiration her presence commanded. 

She entered with a man, and he immediately wondered who the man was. A husband? A brother? A close friend? Strangely enough, Dominic wanted to find out. And that curiosity was enough to send him down from the solitary comfort of his balcony into the very hell of the ton itself. 

He approached a close friend, wrapping his arm around his shoulder in a conspiratorial manner. “Tom, I need you to turn around very slowly and look at the lady in a shimmering purple gown, the redheaded one. But… very slowly, understood?” 

Thomas Willoughby, Dominic’s close friend, frowned in confusion first, then a flicker of understanding lit up inside of him. “Oh! Right, right. Let me just…” he said, pretending to yawn, then turned around to do as he was instructed. Then, he quickly turned around. “You mean Lady Catherine?” 

“Do you know her?” Dominic asked almost breathlessly, realizing that he had just gotten one step closer to her. He knew her name. Soon enough, he would know more. 

Tom shrugged, not understanding the urgency in his friend’s voice. “I’ve been introduced to her and her brother on one occasion, but I wouldn’t call us friends or anything.” 

Her brother. Dominic could only hope that he was fortunate enough to have that man by her side be her brother, and as such, no competition for him. Desire gripped him even harder. Curiosity as well. Was she being courted by anyone? Not that he found that an obstacle. 

“Can you make the introductions?” Dominic hated that he sounded so eager, but he could not control himself. He couldn’t remember the last time a lady had caught his attention in such a manner leaving him utterly stunned and almost speechless. She was shining like a pearl in the mud. It was impossible not to notice her. 

“Of course,” Tom nodded, still slightly taken aback by the hasty nature of this friendly request. He gestured at the drink in his hand, the glass half full of yellowish liquid he was obviously enjoying up until that moment. “Let me just finish this—”

“Now, Tom,” Dominic grabbed his friend’s glass and downed it himself, slamming the glass on the table before them. “I owe you one for this.” 

Tom raised an amused eyebrow, but he knew better than to question his friend’s sudden decisions. “Come on then.” 

With a mutual acquaintance by his side, Dominic seized an opportune moment to approach the lady who had occupied his every conscious thought. As they were heading towards them, she didn’t seem to recognize Tom or him, which was understandable. The man standing next to her, who Dominic hoped with all his might was indeed her brother, turned around at the moment they approached them. 

“Lord Stanhope,” Tom greeted him cordially, bowing as he did so, his voice confident and friendly. He was the sort of man who could find common ground with absolutely anyone. That was one of his best traits. “I saw you across the room and wished to greet you and your lovely sister.” He turned to the lady in question. “Lady Catherine, if I may observe, you look radiant this evening. You are even more beautiful than I remember.” She smiled angelically at him, blushing ever so slightly in response to his compliment. Dominic wondered what it would take to have her smile at him like that. 

“Lord Willoughby?” Lord Stanhope greeted the man with a slight confusion and a confident smile that excused the first. He was apparently not completely assured of the identity of the man who approached him and was genuine enough to show it. Dominic instantly liked the man for his openness even in a slightly awkward situation. 

“Yes,” Tom nodded again. 

“A pleasure,” Lord Stanhope shook Tom’s hand, who turned to Dominic. 

“May I introduce a good friend of mine, Dominic Worthington, the Duke of Fairhaven,” Tom proceeded, as Dominic’s anticipation grew. He could even feel his palms becoming clammy, denoting that he was actually nervous. 

“Your Grace, it is an honor to make your acquaintance,” Lord Stanhope greeted the man cordially. “This here is my sister, Catherine.”   

“Lady Catherine,” Dominic bowed deeply before her, while she curtsied politely. “It is always a pleasure to be in the company of a goddess.” 

Catherine seemed slightly taken aback by such an obvious and unapologetic compliment, but she managed to put on a gracious smile. “The pleasure is mine, Your Grace.” 

As the introductions unfolded with Tom and Lord Stanhope’s exchange of pleasantries, Dominic extended an invitation to Catherine with a confident and charming demeanor. 

“I’m afraid that I cannot be robbed of your presence just yet, Lady Catherine,” Dominic used all of his charms, unable to take his eyes off of the woman before him. “Would you do me the honor of sharing the next dance with me?” 

Catherine glanced at her brother, turning to Dominic again after a moment. “I would, but I, umm… I’m afraid I have promised a dance to someone already.” 

“You have?” 

“You have?” 

The same question belonged to both Dominic and Lord Stanhope who both seemed equally surprised to hear her response. Her brother lifted an eyebrow. It became clear to Dominic instantly. She was politely refusing his offer of dance and needed her brother for corroboration. Fortunately for Dominic, her brother seemed to be on his side. 

 “If you mean Lord Stu…dlo…fun…tingon,” the words were mumbled, almost as if he didn’t know which exact name to pick out of his mind, so that the story could not be checked, “I think he left.” 

She gave him a frowning look. It was obvious that she wasn’t expecting her brother to push her into this. Yet, her brother seemed to be amused by the whole situation. Dominic felt like patting the man on the shoulder in gratitude, but he resisted the temptation to do so.  

“Yes, go ahead, Cate. Enjoy your dance,” he urged. “I have to stay here with Lord Willoughby and discuss… things.” 

Dominic offered her his arm without hesitation. “Lady Catherine?” 

He could see that she was eyeing him suspiciously, as her nostrils flared. The fact that she, of all the ladies there present, did not wish to dance with him and that only made him desire that dance even more. And the indication of her pique amused him beyond description. Her own politeness had become her undoing, and now she had to comply. 

“Very well,” she mustered through clenched teeth, resting her hand on his arm. It was a soft, butterfly touch, yet he felt it with the strength of a hurricane. 

He led her to the central part of the ballroom, where the other dancers had already assembled for the waltz which was starting. He was aware of the eyes of other gentlemen, which made him proud to have her by his side. 

“I am sorry for you missing a dance with Lord… Studlofuntington, was it?” he asked, hardly able to mask his amusement at the made-up name. “But I assure you that I am a match for him in dancing skills, if not even better. And a lady as beautiful as yourself deserves a skilled dancer who knows how to lead.” 

Her eyes fluttered only for a moment, but she had a response ready, just as he thought she would have. “Yes, you seem quite knowledgeable in what ladies need, Your Grace,” she replied boldly, titillating him even further. 

“I merely know my strengths, Lady Catherine,” he told her with a mischievous wink, which made her blush. He didn’t think that she could be any more breathtaking, but now he had proof otherwise. Her porcelain skin blushed in complexions he had never seen on a lady before, a rosy, pink hue deepening with every exchanged word. 

“I’m sure you do,” she added as he placed one hand upon the middle of her back, keeping her a little too close for comfort, just as he liked it. Her hand rested on his shoulder, and together, they started to dance. 

“One of my strengths is to point out a beautiful thing when I see one,” he told her, drinking in the sight of her. “Like you.” 

A ferocious frown graced her otherwise heavenly features. “Am I a thing to you then?” 

He didn’t want to admit that she caught him off guard. Usually, ladies would swoon over his lines, no matter what they were. Sometimes, he didn’t even have to try that hard. But with her, it was proving to be a fun game. A very fun game indeed. 

“Most certainly not,” he replied. “I was merely speaking generally.” 

“I see,” she nodded, without being amused. 

He wanted her to continue the conversation. He wanted to see that little frown again, those dimples in her cheeks which appeared both when she smiled as well as when she frowned. But she seemed to wish to clam up. Disappointment washed over him, and he wondered what else he could tell her, that wasn’t a compliment, which she obviously did not fancy receiving. 

But why would he care anyway? It was just a dance to kill some time until it would be polite to wish the hosts goodbye and go home. Still, there was something about her that seemed to stand out. She was breathtakingly beautiful, that much was true, but he could sense that beneath that polite exterior of manners and quietness, lay a fire that needed to be ignited by a knowing hand. And his was just the right hand for the job.  

Only then did he notice that they had already started dancing, and his body seemed to take over. She was tall for a lady, but still shorter than him, which made them fit together in a way he wasn’t anticipating. He couldn’t help but wonder in what other ways they might fit together… standing up or lying down, perhaps? The thought made him grin. 

“Do you?” he wondered aloud, desirous to keep having this conversation for at least as long as their dance lasted. 

“Do I what, Your Grace?” she wondered as they continued to move perfectly to the sound of the music that echoed around them. That was yet another thing he wasn’t expecting, for them to dance so well together. 

“Do you see, Lady Catherine,” he clarified, “that I am most certainly a better dancer than Lord Studlofuntingon.” He was actually beginning to like that name. It made him want to chuckle every time he thought of it. 

“I did not have the chance to dance with him, so neither me nor you can know that for a fact,” she replied in a way that made him want to throw away her dance card and reserve her selfishly only for himself the entire evening. 

There was something rivetingly titillating, not just about their dance, but about her. She refused to succumb to his charms, like the other ladies would. From the onset, she showed him that she did not wish to dance with him, and even now, with the proof waving in her face, she was denying the fact that she was as drawn to him as he was to her. It was refreshing to see a lady in such control of herself. A rare sight, indeed. 

“What do you know for a fact, Lady Catherine?” he wondered, as they whirled together, facing each other, then turning away, only to find themselves facing each other once more. 

“That you are rather… confident,” she said, as he spun her, relishing the sight of her gown as it twirled along with her. Something told him that he was the envy of every single gentleman who was watching the dancers, wishing they were in his place. 

“I will accept that compliment,” he nodded with a grin, as she faced him, her eyes deep and fathomless. He wanted to dive into their depths and never come out for air. 

“You assumed it was a compliment,” she returned, her eyes locking with his. Once again, she caught him speechless. Twice in one evening. 

“Confidence is a skill,” he explained. “And every skill needs to be honed.” 

As the final notes of the waltz died down, he assumed that they would simply continue on with the subsequent number. However, to his surprise, she curtsied before him with an even better excuse than her brother’s made-up gentleman. 

“Thank you, Your Grace, for a delightful dance,” she smiled. “But if you will excuse me, I find myself a bit tired tonight and I shall go find a seat for the remainder of the evening. I hope you understand.” 

Momentarily stunned, he couldn’t hide a flicker of disappointment. It was truly an excuse he could not undermine, lest he was considered aggressive, and that was the last thing he wanted to be. What he couldn’t understand was her reluctance to be in his company. Neither of them could deny the chemistry that blossomed between them during the dance. It ignited like fire in pitch darkness, and Dominic could find no way to extinguish it other than to have her by his side. Yet, she kept stubbornly refusing him that privilege. 

“Of course,” he nodded politely, bowing before her, with his arm bent at the elbow. 

With a polite, but reserved smile, she moved away from him, disappearing into the vibrant crowd, away from him. Dominic still couldn’t wrap his mind around what had just happened. No woman had ever refused a dance with him. In fact, it was he who had to hide away in other rooms, so he would have a moment of peace. 

Now the tables had turned. Lady Catherine wanted to hide away from him. And it drove him insane.

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“A Duke’s Scandalous Obsession” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Lady Catherine Stanhope, a delicate flower hidden among the shadows of her family’s tragedies, believed her quiet existence shielded her from life’s harsh realities. Yet, it is in the glittering ballrooms of London’s high society that Catherine’s path crosses with the tempting Duke of Fairhaven. Although untouched by his devilish charm, she soon finds herself thrust into an impossible choice: her brother’s ruin or a marriage to this complete stranger.

Will she make her heart a sacrifice or will destiny unveil another path for her?

Dominic Worthington, Duke of Fairhaven, is a man bound by duty, haunted by the specter of his father’s legacy, a looming deadline to marry or lose everything. When his path crosses with Catherine’s, a spark of fascination is ignited in him for the bewitching beauty who remains impervious to his allure. Soon, dark secrets surface and Dominic seizes upon the opportunity to manipulate her into a marriage of convenience, unaware of the profound impact it will have on them both.

He may force her to marry him, but can he force her to actually love him?

As Catherine and Dominic clash in the gilded halls of society, their passionate relationship takes unexpected turns. But, as they journey together, they discover hidden depths within themselves and each other. Just as their scandalous bond strengthens, a new threat emerges, one that threatens to unravel the dark secret of Catherine’s brother and test the true depths of Dominic’s commitment. Will he stand by Catherine’s side and prove that his love for her changed him, or will their fragile bond be shattered forever?

“A Duke’s Scandalous Obsession” is a historical romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

Get your copy from Amazon!