Healing the Duke’s Scarred Heart (Preview)

Prologue

If Philip was determined not to become a recluse, a masked ball was precisely what he needed. 

It was a blessing and a curse that his hair was the way that it was; a deep auburn, shoulder length, rendering him unmistakably the Duke of Creighton.

One look from any member of the ton and it would be evident who he was, and once upon a time he might have enjoyed it. But that time had been and gone, and he wanted more than anything to be unremarkable.

As he fixed his mask in his carriage, his fingertips traced the leathery skin of his cheek. It would have been preferable to him to wear a mask permanently, but his hair aided him in that respect on other occasions.

He shook himself gently, reminding himself that he was the same gentleman that had attended such parties before, and there was no need to be fearful for any reason. He was well-liked, and had been missed a great deal during his absence in society, or so he had been told.

“I would recognize that hair anywhere!” A bright voice came as he approached the front door.

He could not see terribly well in the dark, but there was no mistaking her voice. 

“Lady Smythe,” Philip smiled, bowing to his hostess. “How have you been?”

“I ought to ask you that very same question,” she replied gently. “You poor thing, you must have been through such a terrible ordeal.”

“I am perfectly well,” he promised. “And it is my sincere hope that the accident will not be the talk of the ball. All discussions should pertain to you, the lady that has thrown this spectacular event.”

“It is nothing, only a little something to celebrate the beginning of this year’s season. There are many young ladies in attendance tonight. Perhaps it might do you well to speak with a few?”

“I am sworn off ladies,” Philip laughed emptily. “I believe you know why.”

“I do,” Lady Smythe sighed. “Though, if you were to ask my opinion, I would tell you never allow that girl to make you see yourself differently. You are a good man, Your Grace.”

“I try to be,” he nodded. “In any case, it is not a priority of mine for the moment. I only hope to finish recovering, before I reenter society completely.”

“Certainly. Now, I ought to greet my other guests, even if I would love to spend the evening talking to you, and you alone. Enjoy your evening.”

“I aim to,” he smiled.

At least he had an ally there. As he entered the ballroom, the light became brighter, and he was met with one of the most beautiful ballrooms that he had ever seen. Paintings adorned the walls, there were flowers on every pillar, and everything was in some shade of gold or other. It was opulent, perfect, and Philip felt as though he did not quite belong anymore. A scarred gentleman did not fit amid such beauty.

As if on cue, that was when he saw her; the beauty that he could no longer claim.

Ophelia Sutton had not been his choice of a wife. He did not know her at all, but his father was a good friend of her father, and so a deal was made the week she was born. Philip had not minded this; it was not unheard of, after all, though he had wished that he had been told about the matter years ago, rather than it being a brief mention in his father’s will. 

Even so, there were worse ladies to be tied together to in marriage, and as much as he did not wish to admit it, he had truly fallen for her during their time together. She was a young lady of many talents, and she was known for her beauty. Her hair was deep brown, and her eyes were the color of brandy. What more could a gentleman want than to look into his wife’s eyes and see his favorite drink? 

A wife that wouldn’t leave after he was in a horrific accident, one might suppose. In sickness and in health was how a marriage was supposed to be, and Philip was at least grateful to discover that she had no such intentions before the wedding.

That did not, however, make it any easier to see her fluttering around other gentlemen, batting her eyelashes demurely at them while sweeping her fan across her bosom. She was free to find any man she pleased, and it was evident that that was what she was going to do, whether he was there to see it or not.

Philip wasn’t quick to feel anger, or jealousy, and certainly not hatred, but in that moment, it was all he could feel. Ophelia had a right to flirt with whom she chose, now that they were no longer betrothed, but it did not make it any less painful.

It was supposed to be his reintroduction to society, but Philip no longer wished to be there at all. He could not endure watching the lady he once loved, all season, getting everything that she wanted. Not after destroying him the way she had. There would be no proving himself to be above it all, because he was not. He was hurt, and he wanted to leave.

The cold night air felt good against his skin, but it did not aid in calming his breathing. His clothing felt tight, even though it fit him perfectly, and he felt as though he might collapse at any moment. It did not help that he was once more in darkness, and so he was stumbling away from the household in a vain attempt to locate his carriage. He gave in, making his way back and leaning against a wall, looking at the stars.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

Philip shirked from the voice, even though it had been a calm one. He turned to where it had come from, only to see a small figure in pale blue, her skin even paler. She turned to him just as he jolted, and quickly took his hands in hers, quietening him.

“It’s all right,” she said gently. “Follow me.”

And perhaps it was, because as he was utterly disoriented, he did so. Soon enough, she had guided him to a bench a short way from the rest of the party, and the two were sitting together, one of his hands not leaving one of hers.

She slid her other hand around his back in circles, gently rubbing it. It was soothing him a lot, as was her voice.

“It was quite hectic today,” she smirked. “My sister is to debut in the next two years, early for a young lady, and so she has been quite adamant that she needs to accompany me to events. I would personally love that, but our father refuses. He says that she must wait her turn.”

She giggled as she said it, clearly holding a lot of affection for her sister.

“And it is strange,” she continued. “Because I would have thought that our father might have been honest about the matter; we do not have the money for it, but he protected her feelings. I suppose I am grateful for that. I am also grateful for our beloved Winston, our dog, for he adores Elizabeth and is the entire reason she is happy to stay home.”

“Stay home,” he echoed. “That is perhaps what I should have done.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“It is simply that I… well, this used to be the sort of thing that I excelled at, and now I would much rather be home. I never would have thought that I would be like this.”

“People change as they grow,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I, for one, see no harm in preferring to be at home, especially if one has a particularly lovely one.”

“I do, indeed, but it is also the privacy that I long for.”

He wanted to silence himself, but speaking with her was so easy that he could not make himself stop.

“And you are well within your rights to want that. I do not know if you have been told that before.”

“I have not. There is, instead, the expectation for me to perform for the masses, which I used to be good at it, but I cannot bring myself to do it any longer.”

“Then you need not do so. You cannot be forced to do anything, not unless you consent to it, and then that is hardly forced, is it?”

Philip noticed that whatever she had done had worked well; he was far calmer now. As he turned to thank her, he at last took note of what she looked like thanks to a lantern she had brought. She had lowered her mask to place her hand on his back, revealing blue-black hair that had seemingly been forced into place, striking pale blue eyes, fair skin with many beauty spots on her face and reddish-pink bow-shaped lips. She looked almost doll-like, and with her lips parted and her eyes searching she only emphasized that.

She had perhaps the kindest eyes that he had ever seen, and remarkably she looked exactly like the sort of lady he might have danced with to the waltz that he could hear, had their circumstances been different.

He froze. He could hear the musicians, meaning that they were suspiciously close to the ballroom, and therefore the other guests in attendance. Now, when he looked at the young lady, he could not stand her; he knew what she had been trying to do. Everyone knew who he was, with or without the mask, and whether she had helped him or not she must have known what she was doing.

He was angry with her, angry with all women, for how they treated him as if he were his title and nothing more, tempting scandal if it meant the chance of being a duchess. It was too much to bear.

“How dare you?” he thundered. “Is it in your plans to accost a man in a fragile state?”

“What?” The young lady asked, mouth open. “Sir, I can assure you that I would never—”

“I do not care to hear it. All you young ladies are the same. I hope that whatever man you set your cap to next sees your intentions as I have.”

He did not give her a chance to respond, instead snatching the lantern she was using and stumbling away. He wanted to look menacing, or at least strong, and he hoped that he had achieved that evening through his struggle. He marched to his carriage, boarded it, and immediately set for home, swearing off women entirely, more so than he thought he had.

Even so, he couldn’t help but think of her. She was almost like a sparrow, and she certainly did not appear deceitful. Then again, he had been fooled by a lady’s looks before, and he refused to fall for it again. He would not forget her face for a long time, he knew that much, and he was grateful for that in some respects. 

At least he would not fall for any other lady trying the same thing any time soon, and he had that mysterious young lady to thank for that. He also should have thanked her for helping him, he quickly realized, but perhaps if she did not have such questionable motives he might have done so. 

He was confused that night, but in spite of it all one thing remained perfectly clear. He would not be seen in society for a very, very long time indeed. It was for the best after all; he did not want to hear the whispers, and he knew that eventually it would all die down. Soon enough, Lady Ophelia would marry another poor soul, and he could declare that he had no intentions to marry and would be left well alone.

Sighing, he slammed a bottle of brandy on his desk. He knew it would never happen; such things never did in London. 

 

Chapter One

“You will be cordial with the Duke of Creighton, and that is final.”

Lady Jacqueline Winterbourne, daughter of Lord Pemberton, had not told her father about her conversation with the duke all those years prior, but somehow, he seemed to know that she had no interest at all in the man.

Regardless, it did not matter that she was hesitant. What mattered was that she oversaw the packing for the trip; her father would not do it himself, and even if he did it would not be of any use to them.

Besides, Jackie reasoned, it would aid her in her future running of a household, should she ever marry.

“You seem concerned,” Elizabeth smiled kindly. “Might I be of any assistance?”

“If you could find a way for the two of us to escape this visit, that would be wonderful.”

“Sadly, even I could not persuade Father to do that. This could mean big things for his standing, should he be in with a duke. There shall be no changing his mind on the matter, whether you want to avoid the duke or not.”

“He said the duke has invited us all personally,” she sighed, not truly responding to her sister. “Why on Earth would he do that? He was so brutish when he and I met, and if you ask me, I do not think a man of his standing would ever be forced to change his ways.”

“Perhaps you caught him at a bad time?”

“Be that as it may, I do not wish to know him.”

“It is a shame, because with how popular you were when you were out, it would have been quite easy to snare him as a husband.”

Jackie gave her a pointed look.

“Should I ever marry a man like that, you must send for a doctor immediately.”

“You shall never marry at all if you do not reenter society.”

“Liz, I cannot. You know that. For a start, I am much too old. When was the last time you saw a hopeful unmarried woman of four-and-twenty?”

“You would be fine, I assure you. Why, Lady Blackburne was two-and-thirty when she married an earl. There have been stranger things to happen, I assure you.”

“I do not wish to be seen as strange any more than I already am. You know, if you put half as much effort into your own season, you might find some success yourself.”

“Perhaps,” Elizabeth considered. “Though with Father being the way he is, I highly doubt that there would be a gentleman that would not be frightened off.”

Jackie sighed. Her sister had been every bit as beautiful as the ton had viewed herself, yet for some reason Elizabeth had struggled to enter a single courtship.

That was what Elizabeth told her, at least, but she had never been one to lie. The young ladies were not fools, of course; their father had changed immensely since the death of his wife, and now among his gambling debts and brandy bottles it was difficult to see why any self-respecting man would want to enter into such a family.

“Why did you help the duke in the first place?” Elizabeth asked suddenly. “You must have known it was dangerous to be alone in the dark with a man.”

“I did not, in truth, think of that. I simply saw a person with the same problem that Mother used to have, and I knew how to help her, so I wanted to try helping this other person. The fact that he was a duke meant very little to me.”

“I do not suppose that he ever saw it that way, of course.”

“No, he likely saw me as some silly girl trying to trap him, and a part of me does not blame him for that, but even so I cannot see past the way he spoke to me. Accusatorily, as if I had not just helped him.”

“You make an excellent point. Regardless, we could spend the entirety of the visit avoiding him, if you wish. I have little interest in speaking with him.”

“Whyever not? You could have him for yourself if you wish.”

Elizabeth blushed gently.

“No, thank you,” she chuckled. “He is no more the type of man for me than he is for you. I will say, though, that it was wonderful of him to have invited Lord Greene too. Now that is a man of fine standing. Did you know, he is set to inherit his father’s title? He shall be a marquess from then on.”

“Yes, so it is even stranger that the duke has invited our father of all people. Why do you suppose he has done that?”

Again, Elizabeth’s face flushed, this time even more than it had before. Jackie eyed her carefully. It had been more and more common for her sister to avoid her gaze, and she did not know what to do about it. There were only so many times that she could ask about it before she had to leave the matter be. She had enough to do each and every day without trying to decipher something about her sister, who usually shared everything with her.

“Father told me the two of them are friends,” Elizabeth explained. “They frequent the same gentlemen’s club.”

“If that is the case, why is this the first time that we are hearing of it? I cannot help but feel as though there is more to it than a simple friendship.”

“Well, you have always had a tendency to look too deeply into things. I would not pay too much mind to it. It is a visit and nothing more, and who knows? Perhaps you and the duke might find some common ground.”

“Could you take these to my father’s study?” Jackie said quickly to a servant, handing her some papers. “My sincerest apologies, Sister, what did you say?”

“I do not find you amusing.”

“A pity, for I certainly do.”

“Jackie, you have to try and see things differently. I do not believe that the duke even remembers what happened between the two of you. Dukes meet a lot of people, after all, and if he had remembered it and continued to blame you, why would he have invited you in the first place?”

“Because he is a friend of Father’s.”

“You are being deliberately obtuse, aren’t you?”

“Perhaps,” Jackie smirked, taking some gowns from a maid. “Now, are you going to be in my ear all day or are you going to prepare for our trip?”

“If you allowed me to lift a finger here, I might be able to help you rather than follow you around.”

“There is not a single chance that I will be doing that. I am the lady of the household, and it is my responsibility to ensure everything runs smoothly. It is your job to learn how to paint and sew and sing.”

The two girls laughed brightly, Elizabeth taking some gowns from her sister with a grin.

“I cannot stand sewing,” she said firmly. “I—”

“Prick your fingers too much?” Jackie suggested, to which she nodded. “That is all the more reason to practice. We could find you a good husband, you know.”

“I am far happier with you,” Elizabeth promised. “Besides, if you are happy with this life, then perhaps I could be the same?”

Jackie eyed her sister carefully. There was a sadness in the way that she said it, but Jackie was quite sure of why that was. Elizabeth had always talked about her life as a wife and mother, until recently, but Jackie had not paid that part any mind. After all, several years could not be erased from memory after a mere few weeks.

“You would be miserable. You have always longed to find a husband, and you know it.”

“As did you, once upon a time,” Elizabeth pointed out. “What changed?”

“Mother died,” Jackie replied bluntly. “You had another two years before your debut, and so I had to spend that time preparing you for it, rather than swanning off with the first gentleman to express an interest in me. I had no time for the London Season, and in truth I did not miss it too terribly.”

“Yes, you did.”

Jackie gave her sister a smile.

“Not as badly as you might think. I enjoy running the household, and seeing how well you have bloomed in the last five years I cannot truly have any regrets. How could you expect me to?”

“You’ll miss so much, though. Do you not wish to marry at all?”

“Of course I do, but it is not something that I can do as yet. For a start, I must see to it that you are a wife, and then should I find a gentleman willing to marry an old maid I shall accept my fate.”

“You are hardly an old maid. I am twenty, myself, and you would never call me that.”

“Not with that spirit of yours, no. I don’t know, Liz, it is simply not how I see myself.”

“But if the opportunity were to present itself—”

“Do you know something that I do not?”

Elizabeth stiffened. Jackie never snapped at her sister in such a manner, so it was no surprise to her that she seemed so uncomfortable.

“My apologies, Elizabeth,” she sighed, then allowing herself to smirk. “Should I magically be in a position where you are married and the gentleman of my dreams appears, then I suppose that I would not be opposed to it.”

“That is all I ask,” Elizabeth replied excitedly. “But now that you have said that, you simply must keep to it.”

With that, she raced off. Jackie watched her go, envying her only slightly. It would have been easier if their mother were still alive, and they had been able to debut and spend their London Seasons together, but she would never have taken her small sacrifice back, not for anything in the world.

Even so, she had to admit that she missed her life as a young lady out in society. She had only been out for a year before her mother was too unwell for Jackie to see any use in playing a part in it all. Things were needed at home, and she was no use to anyone if all that she did was simper in some gown and tell gentlemen how wonderful she thought them to be.

With the exception of the Duke of Creighton, that was. She shook the thought from her mind. She harbored no ill will toward the man, she never did toward another person, as it was not her nature. Besides, she reminded herself, he had seemingly been through quite enough without receiving any hatred from her.

She was aware that the duke had a scarred face; it was all anyone could talk about the year she debuted, but it had never made her see him any differently other than it made her pity him. It must have been difficult, she reasoned, to have been through whatever it was that caused the disfigurement and still attend events as though nothing were amiss. It was no surprise, then, that he had snapped at her so unkindly.

Which was precisely why she was so wary about meeting him once again. She had not been in society since, and so had heard no more about him. There was no way for her to know whether or not he had changed at all, and had regretted his actions, or if he held steadfast in his beliefs that Jackie had been a problem and was therefore not someone he wished to associate with, or even show any kindness to. 

Regardless of whether or not he had changed for the better, however, Jackie had no choice but to continue preparing for their visit. He was, after all, a friend of her father’s. She scoffed at the thought, certain that if he kept company with her father then he could not be of the highest caliber of gentleman.

But it did not matter what she thought, nor what she was frightened of being faced with upon her arrival. She was to see the duke, and spend time with him as any good guest would, and the thought of it made her almost miserable. It was not the norm for a lady to be so upset by the thought of spending time with an unmarried duke, but then it had never been a priority of hers.

“This is to be a wonderful time,” her father said coldly as the three of them boarded their carriage. “You shall be good to the duke if you know what is good for you. Am I quite clear, girls?”

“Yes, Father,” Elizabeth replied, far more enthusiastically than she tended to.

Jackie saw her father eyeing her carefully, a tightening in her throat knowing that she would have to lie to him.

“Yes, Father,” she replied quietly.