Stealing the Duchess Read online

  STEALING THE DUCHESS

  Written by Marie Higgins

  Copyright © 2015 by Marie Higgins

  Cover Design by Sheri McGathy

  Edition License Notes

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Stealing the Duchess

  ~The End~

  Find more stories by Marie Higgins | https://authormariehiggins.wixsite.com/romance/books | Author’s Bio

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  Julian Stanford has a plan:

  1. Steal the duchess and make her confess that her husband killed for a title.

  2. Reclaim the title “Earl of Linden”.

  Everything is fine until Julian steals the wrong sister. Now it’s time for a new strategy. Alexandria Templeton is a hopeless wallflower. With his care and nurturing, he’s certain she will blossom into a real beauty. She will also be a great asset to him while trying to find evidence against his cousin for killing Julian’s father and brother. Disaster threatens his well-thought-out plan, but it also threatens to destroy his heart.

  PROLOGUE

  “It’s with deepest regret that I write to tell you...”

  Julian Stratford stared at the missive in his hand. In two months’ time while he’d been away from home and working as an inspector for the Metropolitan Police, both Julian’s father and older brother had become very ill and died due to complications from their sickness.

  An emotional knot tightened in Julian’s throat as he crunched the letter in his hand. Immediately, his mind argued what he’d just read. There’s no way Father and Forbes could be dead. Both men had been ill before and overcome the malady.

  Unshed tears burned Julian’s eyes and he blinked away the liquid. This had to be a mistake...or a cruel joke. Regret sank deep into his heart most painfully, reminding him that he hadn’t spoken to his father for two years. When Julian had decided to become an inspector for the Metropolitan Police, his father was livid. The Earl of Linden didn’t want any son of his to be something as lowly as an inspector.

  Julian had never understood why his father thought this way. Metropolitan Police had an excellent reputation. Many people depended on their service and protection. However, out of the three choices Julian had to pick for his occupation—a clergyman, military, or a police inspector—he’d chosen the latter since that had been his dream for a long time.

  Sorrow washed over him, and he fought back the tears. Apparently, he could no longer be a police inspector. He needed to return home to North Devon and take over his new role as Earl of Linden.

  Captain Orwood had sent Julian and two other men on a missing person assignment. He had narrowed down their leads, and the three of them rode toward the empty warehouse where Julian suspected the missing person was being held against his will. Before he’d left the office, a letter arrived, but Julian hadn’t made time to read it. Until now.

  “The warehouse is up ahead,” John Campbell said as he slowed down his horse.

  Julian tried to pull himself out of his misery and focus on the assignment. He couldn’t be distracted now. Not when they were going to arrest a kidnapper.

  The warehouse stood close to a shipping yard, except they had been out of business for a few months. Thankfully, not many other businesses were located nearby, which gave the three police inspectors more room to sneak around and peek through the windows.

  As Julian stopped his horse and dismounted, a dismal thought crossed his mind, wrenching his heart. This would be his last case. Once this was over, he’d return home and assume the new position as Earl.

  A painful pound grew inside his head. Would he bring justice to his father’s title at all? Never in his life had he imagined the title being passed to him. Julian had always figured once his father passed on, Forbes would take the title. In Julian’s world, his father and older brother would live forever, while Julian continued to live out his dreams. And yet, God had a strange way of tilting Julian’s life off balance.

  He must accept the title. If not, it would go to his ill-mannered cousin, Martin Hinsdale, who couldn’t stroll by a gaming table without sitting down and making a few bets. If his cousin took over the title, the Stanford’s lands and money would be squandered away within a year.

  The other two inspectors with Julian withdrew their pistols. Once again, he shook his mind back to the present. He could only handle one thing at a time, and currently, the kidnapper needed to be caught.

  Stepping carefully toward the warehouse, all three men only communicated with their eyes and head movements. Julian nodded for each man to take a different window. Just as he reached a window, a loud boom ripped through the silence.

  Immediately, Julian peered toward the direction of the sound. Coming toward them was a cannonball. Shock vibrated through him. Who in the blazes would set off a cannonball here?

  Cursing under his breath, he yelled at the other two men to run. Julian didn’t make it very far before the cannonball hit nearby. As Julian flew through the air, pain seared his body, especially his legs.

  When he landed in a hard thump on the ground, only one thing was on his mind before darkness settled over him. Julian realized he would soon be with his father and brother in Heaven.

  ONE

  Devonshire, England, 1822

  The wind outside whipped around the small cottage where she’d lived since she was a child, but tonight, the sound didn’t comfort her. Every member of her family was dead, killed by the murderous hand of the man who’d captivated her so completely.

  For certain, she was next.

  Heavy footsteps made the warped floorboards in the hallway creak. The terrifying sound pierced right through her. Clutching the dagger in her shaky hands, she stood behind the closed door in her bedchambers. She wouldn’t let them take her without a fight. It didn’t matter that her heartbeat pounded so fast she could scarcely breathe, or that her limbs shook hard enough to break her bones, she was determined to win.

  Mr. Woodland—the handsome man she’d met yesterday—was to blame for the turmoil currently surrounding her, she just knew it. He’d been too charming, too sweet, and had literally swept her off her feet. She’d always known how to talk to men, but this man had seemed out of her area of expertise for some reason. Now she surmised his purpose. He’d wanted to get close to her...but for what, she wished she knew.

  Why hadn’t she seen his trickery through his sugar-coated words? Never again would she trust a man who charmed easily and swept her mind into oblivion. But now it was too late. She feared for her own safety.

  Alexandria Templeton stared at the passage she’d just written and nibbled on her bottom lip. As she thought about the plot—or what she’d plotted so far—this passage didn’t make much sense. Why had the woman’s family died? And more importantly, why was this man, Mr. Woodland, trying to kill off her heroine?

  Alexandria set her quill down on the desk and released a frustrated breath between her lips. Once again, she’d started a story before she had time to really think about what was going to happen to her characters, and why. In the four years she’d been writing stories, she should have learned not to write before she was ready.

  Then again, she knew why she hadn’t learned the lesson yet. Writing was her retreat from reality. Every day she anticip
ated the moment when she entered her own little world and created her characters, making them do the things she wanted them to do. It was what she enjoyed. What she loved more than anything.

  Closing her eyes, she stretched her neck and rolled her head from side to side, releasing the tension building in her muscles. As she fluttered her eyelids open, she gazed out of the nearest window. A baby blue sky grabbed her attention first, and then the nearest tree standing so still. Thankfully, there was no rain and what appeared to be no summer wind. This would be the perfect weather to ride her horse, Buttercup.

  She scooted her chair away from the desk and stood. She placed the lid on her inkwell and the quill back in its cup before hurrying to change into her riding habit. Galloping around the estate on days like this really cleared her head and made her think better. Especially when working on her next mystery novel. Her dream was to have someone notice her writings, and one day want to publish them. Until then, she would keep reaching for her unobtainable.

  She donned her riding habit with the lavender short-waist jacket, black skirt, and matching purple bonnet. Fitting her hands into the purple gloves, she left her room. As she walked down the hall, the door to her sister’s room opened and out stepped Alexandria’s brother-in-law, Martin Hinsdale, newly appointed Earl of Linden. A frown creased his expression as he dug his slender fingers in his bushy blonde hair and scratched his head.

  Her heart squeezed with emotion. Her sister must still be quite ill. Her brother-in-law had worn that expression for the last five days. She prayed nothing life-threatening was wrong with her sister. Frustration mixed with her concern. Martin refused to keep Alexandria informed as she wished to be, nor would he allow her to visit Joanna.

  Martin raised his head and his gaze locked with Alexandria’s. His glare pierced right through her as he nodded and proceeded up the hall. She had never seen him smile except when he gazed upon her sister. It was too bad he didn’t do more of that because he was a better looking man when he was happy.

  She really wished he would talk to her more. It irritated her that he was so secretive about her sister’s condition. Bunching her hands into fists, she grumbled under her breath. This time, she wouldn’t let him stop her from seeing Joanna...even if she had to sneak behind his back to do it.

  Taking slow steps, she waited for him to disappear into his study and close the door. Quickly, she turned and hurried to her sister’s bedchamber. She opened the door slowly, hoping the hinges wouldn’t squeak. Thankfully, no sound came. As she stepped into the room, she held her breath and waited for the floorboards to groan. Once again, she was relieved when silence greeted her.

  Joanna lay on her bed, her arms resting outside of the many blankets covering her, displaying a pink gown with a ruffled neckline, fluffy sleeves, and pink ribbons around the wrists. Joanna’s blonde hair—a shade darker than Alexandria’s—was braided and hung over her left shoulder as frays of hair came out of the style. Her pale face contrasted greatly with her gown.

  No candles lit the room, but a pale shaft of light escaped the drawn bedroom curtains, bringing a small measure of brightness to the otherwise gloomy chamber. She moved her gaze from the bed to the other furnishings; the armoires, two tables, two sofas, and three Persian rugs. Her sister had such lovely, expensive furniture. Although, Alexandria and Joanna had never suffered poverty as children, they weren’t used to seeing such luxuries as what was in this estate. Martin made certain his wife was happy, and that she was made to look like a queen. Too bad Joanna didn’t look like one now. In fact, she nearly resembled someone who was on her deathbed.

  Alexandria frowned, and her heart clenched with sadness. Taking soft steps so as not to awaken her, she crept to the bed and stopped beside it. Carefully, she placed her hand over Joanna’s. Startled, her sister’s body jerked and her eyes flew open, her gaze landing on Alexandria. Within seconds, a tired smile touched her sister’s lips.

  “Xandria, you have finally come.”

  “Oh, dear,” Alexandria panicked. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “Nonsense.” Joanna slowly shook her head. “I have wanted to see you.”

  “Indeed? Then why was your husband keeping me away?”

  “He was? Are you certain?”

  “Of course, I’m certain. He specifically instructed me not to come into your bedchamber and disturb you.”

  “When did he say that?” Joanna’s eyebrows creased.

  “On the first day you became ill.”

  Joanna chuckled lightly, but Alexandria could tell her sister struggled to do so.

  “Oh, Xandria, he probably meant that you shouldn’t disturb me on that particular day. I’m getting better, I assure you. If you had only said something to him, I believe he would have allowed you to visit me.”

  “Don’t be too certain about that,” Alexandria grumbled. Although her sister had only been married a little over six months, Alexandria knew her brother-in-law’s mood swings and how uncommunicative he was.

  Joanna lifted her hand, placed it over Alexandria’s, and gently squeezed. “You need not be shy with him, my dear. He’s your brother-in-law, not a stranger off the street.” She took a ragged breath and cleared her throat. “I realize you are reluctant to talk to men, but Martin is different. Truly, I wish you would think of him as family.”

  Alexandria would rather not. Besides, if she had to think of him as family, why didn’t he think of her the same way? Not once did he try to go out of his way to talk to her or get to know her. “I shall try,” she answered in a soft voice.

  “Oh, Xandria, please don’t fret. If only you would talk to men the way the characters in your stories do, then you wouldn’t be considered a wallflower. For once, you need to put yourself in your character’s role and talk to a man.” Her grin lifted one side of her mouth higher than the other. “I think you would be surprised how easy it is.”

  Alexandria shrugged. “Perhaps that is the reason I enjoy writing so much. It’s because I can be a different person in my stories.”

  “Just pretend you are one of your heroines. I’m certain that you would be able to relate better that way.”

  “Yes, perhaps.” Alexandria took a deep breath and slowly released it. “So tell me, are you truly feeling better? You’re not just saying that to calm my nerves?”

  Joanna nodded. “I’m gradually feeling better. The physician assures me I shall be out of bed by next week.”

  “I hope so. I do miss our talks.”

  Joanna’s gaze skimmed over Alexandria’s attire and she arched an eyebrow. “Are you going riding?”

  Alexandria patted her high neck collar. “Yes. I was on my way out when I saw your husband leave the room. That’s when I decided to sneak in and see you.”

  “Are you by chance, having problems with your story? Usually you only ride when this happens.”

  Alexandria chuckled. “You know me so well.”

  “Indeed, I do.” Joanna’s eyelids drooped and she yawned. “Go and ride now so I can rest. Return to me tonight. I’ll be stronger then.”

  Alexandria bent and kissed her sister on her forehead. Although her heart still twisted with pain seeing her sister in such a weakened condition, she was relieved to have a chance to speak with her. Yet, what was really wrong with her sister? Even Joanna didn’t mention why she was so ill.

  The moment Alexandria stepped out of the house, the sun hit her face, and she squinted from the brightness. Blinking, she adjusted her vision before proceeding to the stable. Along with Martin’s Earldom came some fine horses. Several Arabians, a few Shetlands, two Clydesdales, and her favorite—the only Highland pony—Buttercup. Never before had she seen a horse so beautiful. The beige coloring of the animal’s body blended well with the darker brown of her mane.

  As she waited for the stable boy to saddle Buttercup, Alexandria glanced out across the estate. Martin was a very fortunate man, indeed, when he inherited such a grand piece of property. The circumstance in which he’d acquired t
he earldom wasn’t very fortunate, though, since Martin’s uncle, the Third Earl of Linden, and two cousins—Forbes and Julian Stanford—all died within a few months of each other. The earl and his oldest son, Forbes, died of what was assumed to be the plague, even though it hadn’t struck anyone else on the estate. Julian Stanford, however, died while he was at work investigating a case. She’d heard that the cannonball which killed him was highly irregular, especially for being so close to an old shipping yard.

  Martin had married Joanna two months before he inherited the earldom. Thankfully, he also allowed Alexandria to live with them since her parents had died a few years ago, and she had no other place to call home.

  Heavy footfalls thudded on the manicured lawn and shook her from her thoughts. She swung her attention to her brother-in-law as he marched toward her, wearing a stern expression aimed right toward her. “There you are. May I have a word, please?”

  Gulping, she nodded and stepped away from the horse. Joanna had wanted Alexandria to act like one of the heroines from her stories, but right now, she felt like a coward as she forced herself to face her brother-in-law. Perhaps if he didn’t always look so menacing.

  “Yes?” she asked in a squeaky voice.

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately, and I’ve decided to find you a husband. You are well past the marrying age, and if we wait any longer, men will not find you a worthy mate. So starting tomorrow, I’ll be contacting several of my acquaintances to see who would be willing to take you off my hands.”

  She inhaled sharply. Clasping her fingers together, she held them against her bosom. Take me off your hands? His rude words stung her just as much as a slap across the face would have. How dare he! Could he truly do something so despicable? Yet, he was her guardian, therefore, he could.

  Panic rushed through her, tightening her chest. She could scarcely breathe without taking gasps of air. How could she write herself out of this mess?

  TWO