Expressly for The Teatime Tattler
The Teatime Tattler
has just confirmed that Lady Katherine Thornton has laid her uncle, Bennett Sutton
to rest in the family mausoleum. It is with a great deal of hunting and pecking
that this reporter has found some shocking information. Bennett Sutton was
murdered in the most dreadful manner. He was poisoned with snake venom, a venom
that has no antidote.
It has also come to my attention that before his demise, Mr.
Sutton made his business partner, the very eligible and handsome Lord Ian Wallace,
the 4th Duke of Blackhall, vow to marry his niece, Lady Katherine,
not once, but twice. I also have reliable information from Mr. Hawkins, the
editor of the Sommer Sentinel that he’s been contacted by the London Gazette
regarding a statement in that was published in said publication regarding His
Grace’s vow. It seems, London is abuzz with gossip and mothers and their
debutante daughters are in mourning.
I wonder if that is why Lord Ryder Whitaker has been seen in
town. You remember the young rogue. Five years ago, when Lady Katherine had her
first (and only) Season in London, he was her constant companion. The queen’s
Diamond, everyone thought Lord Whitaker had won her heart until one day she got
up and returned to Sommer-by-the-Sea. Has the rake renewed his interest knowing
Lord Wallace will take her for his wife? The young cad is outranked in so many
ways. I understand he is not welcome in any home of good standing, nor the
gambling hells.
My sources have not rested. To add to this mix, I have it on
very good authority that prior to the duel gone wrong that took her uncle’s
life, Sutton lost the deed to Thornton Abbey to His Grace in a card game. I can
only imagine what will happen when the very outspoken Lady Katherine finds out
she’s lost her home and her independence to His Grace, a man she’s never met,
all in one fell swoop.
Can all this get sorted out to a happily ever after? Read on
my friends. I hear there are swords and kidnappings involved as well.
The
Lady and Her Duke
Could she use her skills as a lockpick
to crack open the secrets to the murder as well as unlock his heart?
Lady Katherine Thornton
has no interest in men after an indiscretion at her disastrous Season in
London. No man can be trusted. Instead, she indulges in her fascination for
gears and all things mechanical. Her unique drafting skill is an asset to her
uncle Bennett Sutton, who is automating his textile factory. She doesn’t need
anything else.
Lord Ian Wallace, the
4th Duke of Blackhall, is a retired military officer. An accidental duke after
the deaths of his father and brother, he retreats from society and the clawing
mothers and debutantes who stalk him. He’s focused all his energy on his
partnership with Sutton. He’s satisfied and needs nothing else.
An oath to marry, a
family legend to preserve, an uprising of the factory workers, and Sutton’s
murder, throw Katherine and Wallace together to find a blackmailer and
murderer. They also will find two things neither knew they were missing… each
other and their happily ever after.
Now
Available Amazon Kindle Unlimited
Excerpt from Chapter One
June 20, 1815
Royston Mills, Baycliff Woods
The blast of a pistol shattered the quiet afternoon. Shouts and
screams rose, their sound carrying into the surrounding area. In a clearing by
the lake where the wood bordered the village, the shock and chaos subsided into
a deafening silence.
Lord Ian Wallace knelt next to his business partner, Bennett
Sutton. His bruised and bloody face was a mess of soot and gunpowder. Wallace
glanced over his shoulder, signaling his valet.
“Water. Quick. His eyes need to be flushed.” Wallace wavered
between restraint and rage as he ministered to Sutton. “Stay calm and whatever
you do, keep your eyes closed.” His hands ran over Sutton’s torso checking for
injuries. He found none, other than the small tremors he assumed were from
shock.
“I’m dying.” Sutton spoke not in disbelief, but in resignation, as
if his dying was an undisputed conclusion.
Wallace’s chest tightened at the sound of those words. He had
heard them before from the injured men he commanded in Spain. For a moment he
was back on the battlefield going from man to man comforting them, waiting for
medical attention and, in too many cases, saying good-bye.
“Swear to me.” Sutton, agitated and breathing hard, reached up and
grabbed his lapel. “Swear to me you’ll marry my niece, Ivy-Rose.”
What niece? Sutton had a niece?
“Swear it!”
“Yes, yes. I swear.” In a fit of rage, he’d say anything to escape
from the madman. It was luck that Sutton’s gun misfired. He gazed at his friend
and partner in disbelief. From the moment his valet pulled him to the ground he
found it difficult to comprehend why his friend and partner tried to kill him,
tried to shoot him in the back.
Sutton tugged on his lapels. “No, on your honor as a gentleman.
Swear it.” Another tug. Bennett’s strength was waning.
Wallace’s anger softened. The man had to be kept calm. Roddy, his
foreman, and Lord Ryder Whitaker had gone to fetch Dr. Price. The doctor had
left the clearing when Sutton called off the duel.
“Swear it.” The man sounded as if it was his last breath.
“As a gentleman, I, Lord Ian Wallace, 4th Duke of Blackhall,
promise to marry your Ivy-Rose.” He bent closer to him. “Is that better?”
Sutton released his lapels and slumped onto the ground, his breath
coming in spurts.
Lenard returned carrying a basin of warm water.
Wallace stood aside and gave his valet room. They had been
together a long time. Lenard was his personal attendant at Cambridge as well as
in Spain during the war. Together they had seen worse. Now he flushed the
gunpowder and soot out from Sutton’s eyes. It would serve Sutton right if the
pain was unbearable.
“Much better.” Sutton’s voice faded to a calm stillness.
Wallace wasn’t sure if his partner referred to the oath he gave or
the warm water.
“Your Grace. I cannot find any wound.” Lenard kept streaming water
over the man’s face.
The battlefield images flashed in his head. Some had outcomes that
were more severe than others. But that was war, not a card game gone wrong.
“God’s blood, where is that doctor?” He glanced about.
Sutton raised his face to Lenard as the man ran more water over
him and, with a gentle touch, wiped him dry.
“You have my thanks.” Quiet at last, Sutton winced when he tried
to lay down on the ground.
“Over here, Dr. Price.” Whitaker and Roddy led the doctor to the
injured man.
“I thought Sutton had the good sense to call off the duel.” Dr.
Price pushed his way in front of Wallace. “Where did your bullet hit him?”
“I never fired my weapon.” Wallace stood back to let the doctor do
his job.
“His pistol misfired when he aimed at Wallace’s back.” Whitaker
stepped forward. “I stood in shock when he raised his pistol and took aim.”
The doctor, on his knees, paused and glanced up at him.
“That’s not at all like Sutton. Wallace, what did you say to him?”
The doctor resumed examining Sutton’s head.
“Not a thing. I convinced him to call off this ridiculous duel. I
thought to give him time and hoped he’d have more sense in the morning. I was
leaving the clearing, not far behind you when the shot went off.”
“There are some abrasions from the powder blast and irritation
from the gunpowder, but no wound.” Price examined Sutton’s hands. Scrapes, a
bit of a burn in places, but nothing fatal. “Sutton’s a lucky man.”
The doctor stood up cleaning his hands with a cloth from his bag.
“Help me bring him to my carriage. We’ll take him to the inn. I
want to watch him until tomorrow rather than have him brought back to
Sommer-by-the-Sea now.”
Roddy and Lenard lifted Sutton, made their way through the
gathered onlookers, and laid him in the back of the doctor’s carriage.
“There’s room enough for you and me up here.” Roddy tapped Lenard
and pointed next to the driver.
“I can go with them if you prefer.” Whitaker stood next to him. “I
know you’re the man’s partner, but no one would blame you for washing your
hands of him.”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll go with him. I’m staying at the
inn.” Wallace got in the carriage still thinking through the events. He agreed
with Dr. Price: this wasn’t at all like Sutton.
The door closed, Whitaker signaled the driver, and the carriage
pulled away.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into him.” Wallace stared at Sutton
propped up on the seat across from him.
“I’ve known that man since he was a boy and agree this is out of
character for him. But don’t you worry, Your Grace. We’ll have him all to
rights soon enough.”
The carriage pulled up to Weaver’s Inn. News of the incident
traveled faster than he imagined. More onlookers buzzed about them like a swarm
of angry bees. Wallace led the way for Lenard and Roddy to bring Sutton up the
stairs to his room.
“I’ll stay with him for a while. Head injuries can be nasty.” Dr.
Price stood over his patient and checked Sutton’s breathing again.
“Ale for you both and watered ale for Mr. Sutton.” Lenard put the
tankards on the table. “Your Grace, I have the papers you gave me earlier. I’ll
put them in your room.”
“I’ll take them. I can review the documents while I sit with him.”
Wallace nodded toward Sutton.
“If that will be all, I’ll be in the tavern if you need me.”
Lenard put the folio on the table.
“I’ll go with you.” Roddy looked at the patient lying in the bed
and shook his head. The two men left and closed the door behind them.
Dr. Price sat at the table and took a tankard of ale. “How did
this start?”
Wallace sat next to the doctor and reached for the second tankard.
“I found him troubled over several issues when I came up from
London. He was in a fit over worker demands. He also expected a sizeable amount
of fleece, but instead received a smaller delivery than promised.
“I had an issue to discuss with him, but in his state I knew it
would be impossible. I thought to divert his attention, a game of cards to take
his mind off everything. Once he was himself, we could address the business
problems and go over my visit to Cambridge. But Sutton drank too much, took
risks no man in his right mind would take, and lost miserably.”
“And his mood went from bad to worse.” Dr. Price glanced at his
patient, shook his head, and took a draw on the tankard.
“Yes, it did. I was at a loss what to do. Sutton wouldn’t stop
playing despite losing one game after another. I couldn’t imagine the situation
getting any worse, but it did.
“I dealt the cards. How Sutton preened like a peacock, so sure the
winning hand was his. He drank and taunted me. He drained his flask dry and had
Mr. Jackson fill it to the top. I was astounded when the deed to his home
landed on the table.”
“His cards…” The doctor closed his eyes and moaned.
“A beginner would know better than to bet on the cards Sutton
held. He had no chance of winning.” Wallace let out a strained laugh. “I
conceded defeat and laid my cards face down, but Sutton demanded to see them. I
refused. He reached across the table and turned them over. Then he went mad.
Sutton grabbed a pen from the bar, sat down, and started writing. I stayed his
hand. I didn’t want his home. I thought to entice him with the best two out of
three games, but he refused. I pay my debts.”
“Sutton is a proud man and a man of his word. But I’ve never known
him to be this reckless.” Price sat back, his legs out in front of him, staring
at the tankard in his hand.
“Man of his word. We wouldn’t be here if our workers believed him.
I told them over and over the new mechanicals would not replace them. But fear
does strange things to people. If things go as Sutton and I plan, there will be
more work for more people and more money, not less.
“I offered to speak with the workers and explain the plan. That’s
when Sutton exploded. I tried my best to calm him, but now I understand. Sutton
didn’t calm down during the game. If anything, his card playing was more
intense, more erratic, more irrational.” He stared at his partner. “My strategy
to calm him with the card game did the opposite. It pushed him over the edge.”
“Don’t blame yourself. From what you’ve told me, Sutton was
already agitated. It wasn’t one thing. It was everything.”
“My partner accused me of siding with the workers and called me
out in front of everyone demanding satisfaction. A duel.” Wallace glanced at
the doctor. The incident still beyond belief. “I refused. I told him I had
enough of weapons in Spain. Businessmen didn’t settle disputes with weapons. To
everyone’s horror, he slapped my face. I remember his odd smirk, daring me to
ignore the affront.
“Choose your weapon. I refused. Pistols. You didn’t
think I’d want to be near you with a blade. At least with a pistol I have a
fighting chance.
“I still didn’t give up.
“All the way to the field and even when we arrived, I tried to
dissuade him. I would have gladly shot myself to put an end to his stupidity.
At last, the fight went out of him. You witnessed how we called off the duel,
shook hands, and sent everyone home. Sutton was still holding his loaded
pistol. I told him to take his anger out on the red maple tree, the one by the
lake.” He paused and glanced at Sutton. “I thought he came to his senses.”
“That is how I remember the morning.” Dr. Price nodded.
“I turned to leave with the others, only to hear Sutton’s pistol
discharge. Lenard pulled me to the ground. When we got to our feet, it was
Sutton who was down.
* * * *
The Lady and Her Duke is book 3 of the regency series, The
Ladies of Sommer-by-the-Sea
·
The Lady and Her Quill –
Her mind kept telling her to stop loving him,
but her heart couldn’t let him go.
·
The Lady and the Spy
With
each encounter her heartbeat quickened. With each encounter his need for her
grew stronger
·
The Lady and her Duke.
Could
she use her skills as a lockpick to crack open the secrets to the murder as
well as
unlock his heart
About the Author
historical adventures from the shores of medieval Scotland to the cobblestone
streets of Regency London. Her stories embrace strong women and the men who
deserve them. Within the pages you’ll discover ‘edge-of-your-seat’ suspense,
mind boggling drama, and heart melting emotions. Grab your favorite cup of tea,
or an ale if you prefer, and join her heroes and heroines as they race across
the pages to find their happily ever after.
She lives in New Jersey with her hero, three empty
bedrooms and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects.
Before she found her voice, she was a speech therapist (pun intended), client
liaison for a corrugated manufacturer, and vice president at an international
bank where she was a product/ marketing manager, but her favorite job is the
one she’s doing now—writing romance. Ruth hopes her stories become your
favorite adventures.
Where You Can Find Ruth:
At her website: https://ruthacasie.com/
Sign up for her newsletter: http://bit.ly/RuthsNewsletterSignUp
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ruthacasie/
Facebook at
Casie Café: https://www.facebook.com/groups/963711677128537/
Facebook Author Page: https://amazon.com/author/ruthacasie
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4792909.Ruth_A_Casie
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ruth-a-casie
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