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  The Duke’s Last Dance

  A HISTORICAL REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL

  Sally Forbes

  Copyright © 2020 by Sally Forbes

  All Rights Reserved.

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  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  Extended Epilogue

  a message from sally

  about sally forbes

  a special gift

  I would like to thank you for purchasing my book. This is really important and invaluable for me.

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  Sally Forbes

  Prologue

  Catherine laughed. Lord Lockhart stood bowed in front of her as if there was something more to the meeting than just two friends having fun. He rose up from his bow.

  “May I have a dance, Lady Catherine?” He held his hand out for her as if there was nothing in the world to stop them.

  Her laughter filled the dining hall again. At the tender age of ten-years-old, she had never thought that she would be so close to the son of the Duke and Duchess of Ashwood, another prominent family in the neighborhood. Yet, here she was. With Lord Nicolas Lockhart, standing in front of her, his boyish face curled into a smile at the idea of a dance with her as their favorite song began to play.

  “Of course, Lord Lockhart. I would be honored.” She gave him a curtsy, humoring his manners, and minding hers.

  He took her hands in his and they started to sway. This afforded them a chance to watch each other, stare into the other’s eyes. Though Catherine had never quite understood what she was supposed to do, she had understood something; staring at someone like this could lead to feelings of love. She had seen her father stare at her mother the way Lord Lockhart was staring at her now.

  “Catherine, this song will always be our song.” Lord Lockhart spoke quietly, letting his words tickle over her ears.

  She felt her cheeks flushing as she met his grin with one of her own.

  “That sounds lovely, Lord Lockhart,” she managed to say.

  The fact that he had used her Christian name had surprised her, but there was nothing more for her to think about at this point.

  They were still swaying, hand in hand, to the music. Neither one of them really knew how to dance yet, but Lord Lockhart now made to pull away from her. He pulled her into a kind of dance frame, if Catherine was remembering what she had learned from watching her parents late at night when they thought she was asleep.

  His right hand found her shoulder bone, and then his left took her right. She placed her left hand on his shoulder, not sure what she was doing.

  He took her around the room, their feet tripping over each other. They ended up in a heap of giggles on the floor with Catherine taking great care to make sure that she didn’t muck up her dress.

  “Catherine, one day, I promise you, we will be married. I do not care what anyone says.” Lord Lockhart looked at her with hard, intense eyes.

  He only ever looked at her with such a look when he wanted to let her know that he was serious about whatever they were talking about.

  “Do you mean that, Nicolas?” Her heart fluttered.

  He could not mean that. They were still children. Marriage was something that would happen many years down the road, and by then, whatever feelings they could have had…

  She shook those thoughts away. She didn’t care what the societal norms were. Catherine knew, somewhere within her heart, she wanted to marry Lord Lockhart. And if he was promising her now that he would, she would hold that promise tight and never let go of it.

  “Yes. I do.” He sat up. “Come, let us get you up off the floor, and then I will give you a token of the promise.”

  A token? Catherine had never heard of someone giving a woman a token of a promise. It was always a token of affection or appreciation. Never a promise.

  She let him help her up, his hand warm in hers. Her hand felt clammy and cold, sweating a little. She wondered if she was now nervous because of what he wanted to tell her. Of what he wanted to say to her.

  “What is this… token of the promise?” Catherine could not help but ask the question.

  Her curiosity often got the better of her, and today was no different. She was not sure what was going on, but she wanted to know that he was true to his word. Considering how often he was there when she needed him for little things, she wanted to believe that he would be there for the bigger things as time went on.

  He did not answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box.

  She took the box when he offered it to her. When she opened it, a glimmer met her eyes. A silver brooch with a beautiful opal in the center sat in the box, the candlelight sparkling against both the silver and the opal as she moved it around.

  “Oh…” She did not know what else to say. Butterflies flittered in her stomach.

  How had he managed to come up with the money to get this for her? How had he gotten such a beautiful brooch? Jewelers, in her limited experience, did not sell to thirteen-year-old boys.

  “This is a symbol of the promise that I have made you, Catherine. We will be together one day, and there is nothing the world can do to stop us from fulfilling the promise we have made each other.” He smiled at her.

  She pinned it to her dress in a spot that would not be so obvious if her parents looked for it.

  “It’s beautiful, just like the promise, Nicholas. Thank you.” She gave him another curtsy, and she smiled widely as she came out of it.

  The song had ended some time ago, even though they had only done an imitation of the waltz. Lord Lockhart held his hand out to her.

  “I must escort you back to where I picked you up, Lady Catherine. To do anything else would be improper.” His smile widened as she took his hand.

  She let him walk her back to the middle of the room.

  “Thank you for the dance, Nicolas. I quite enjoyed it.” She could not help but smile. Something about the promise lit her heart aflutter, and she was not going to stop him from fulfilling that promise.

  Chapter O
ne

  The window of the carriage had given much over the course of the journey. It had shown her the beauty of the countryside, with its sprawling trees and leafy canopies. The various kinds of flowers that had littered the walkways on her way into the countryside now were covered by the snowfall that had happened with Christmastime. That had been a month ago.

  Now that they were driving into Town, Lady Catherine Radcliff wondered what this Season in London would bring her. For the last few years, she had wondered this same thing with the same drab results. She would be consigned to the nursery while her parents hosted parties or while they were away at social gatherings. Sometimes, she would be able to see her friend Lord Lockhart, but oftentimes, that was reserved for the nights when the Duke and Duchess of Ashwood invited them to dinner, or when her parents extended an invitation for the Ashwood family to come.

  Arriving in Town also meant that the green expanses of summer and the white wonderland of a country winter had gone for the moment. Now, her days would be filled with sights of dazzling homes, chandeliers, beautiful dresses, long gloves, and men as handsome as she thought them.

  For this Season was the most important one in a young girl’s life. Lady Catherine had officially become eligible for marriage, and she would make her debut in society. Her mother, of course, was more excited than even Catherine.

  The chance for a good marriage was greater the higher up on the social ladder one’s family was, and with her father being The Earl of Camberton, she knew that she would have many potential suitors awaiting her in Town.

  Camberton… it had been only a few months since they had left the Camberton Manor for the countryside, but Camberton would now be where she resided. Her family always came into Town for the Season, and she saw no reason for that to stop.

  “Catherine?” Her mother’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. “Catherine!”

  “Huh?” She looked over from the window to find her mother frowning at her. “My apologies, Mother. I must have started thinking about the Season instead of listening.”

  “Well, now that I have your attention,” her mother stopped. Then, with a smile, she continued, “We will be starting dress fittings for the Season tomorrow. You must look your best with this being your debut into society, you know.”

  “Yes, Mother. I know.” Catherine looked down from her mother’s gaze. “Not only are my looks important, but so are my manners and my abilities. When will I be learning the dances?”

  “Oh, you and your dancing,” her mother huffed. “If you must insist on learning the dances first, then we can arrange for your tutor to come earlier, but he is currently coming in two days’ time. Long before the first event of the Season, Catherine, and I hope that is sufficient for you. You will not learn the quadrille and the waltz in one Session, nor will you master it in one Session.”

  “I wish to learn the waltz only. Must I learn the quadrille?” Catherine could not help but curl her lips in disgust as she spoke of the second dance. She thought it a dance for older men that had nothing better to do than show off their older wives to other couples of the same age. It was nothing compared to the waltz, even though some variations had waltz-like steps to them.

  “Yes, you must learn the quadrille. I know you detest the way it looks and feels, but you will be expected to dance the quadrille with men at the events this Season. If you were to dance a set with a young gentleman that included a quadrille, and you could not dance it, you would mark yourself an object of ridicule, Catherine.” Her mother gave her a stern look. “You will be made known as a woman who only knows half of what she ought to about dancing, so what would you know about being a mother?”

  “I do not believe it would be so, Mother,” Catherine attempted to argue.

  Her mother stopped her from doing so.

  “You will learn the quadrille, and that’s final. Have I made myself understood, Catherine?” Her mother did not let up on the stern glare that had come onto her face.

  Catherine let out a quiet sigh.

  “Yes, Mother. You have made yourself quite clear. I will learn both the quadrille and the waltz.” She knew that it was not worth continuing the argument at this point.

  If her mother made any more of a scene, she would have been too embarrassed to continue arguing anyway. After all, her mother felt the same way she did about the quadrille, but she had learned how to dance it. Catherine honestly believed no one looked good doing the quadrille; much of the time, at least half of the dancers were still and doing nothing but standing there.

  It was an odd look for a room of dancers, half of them doing nothing but standing still! Whatever kind of a man had thought up the quadrille had meant to give them time to socialize, surely, but it never worked out that way. At least, not from what Catherine had seen and experienced.

  “I am glad to hear it, Catherine.” Her mother sat back against the carriage’s seat. “Are you excited for your debut?”

  Catherine hesitated. She was not as excited as her mother was, but she was excited to see what this Season would bring. It would bring so many new experiences that she wanted to have, but it would also mean she had to step up and become a woman.

  “I am, but I am not at the same time.” She took in a deep breath. “I suppose I am also hesitant to grow up.”

  “We all are, Catherine. We all are.” Her mother nodded slowly as she spoke. “There is nothing more interesting than the way we are able to handle it all when we believe that there is nothing to gain and everything to lose, but even more so when we believe there is everything to gain and nothing to lose. You must know where you stand on that when the Season begins, Catherine. There will be men here that will make you believe you have everything to lose if you don’t marry them. You do not want to be with one of those men.”

  Her mother’s eyes flickered down.

  “Do you have a story to tell me, Mother?” Catherine wondered what kind of a story could possibly have scarred her mother so badly that she would not tell it to her, but then again, she did not know every detail of her mother’s life before marrying her father.

  “I do, but it is not a story I feel appropriate for the first Season you are eligible for marriage. Perhaps after you have been married, Catherine,” her mother replied. “Now, sit up straight. You’ve allowed your shoulders to slouch, and no proper woman would be caught dead like that in Town.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Catherine sat up straighter.

  She wanted to have good prospects for marriage. If following her mother’s sometimes arbitrary advice would help her accomplish that, then she was all for doing so.

  The rest of the carriage ride to Camberton Manor was silent. Catherine returned to looking out the window, watching the white snow pass by.

  Town in the winter was always a mix of picture perfect snow on the rooftops – especially right after a fresh snow, before all the soot had a chance to settle in – and an utter mess on the ground as everyone and their horses walked through the snow. Catherine much preferred the fresh, uninterrupted blanket of snow that was often created in the countryside after a snowstorm came through. With the houses being so much more spread out, it took longer for everyone to get out and about after a snowstorm.

  She would much prefer to see meters and meters of freshly fallen snow to the slushy mess that London became, but she had no way to do anything about that. They were officially in Town, and with Camberton Manor coming into view from the carriage window, she was too excited about the Season’s beginning to do anything but think about the dress fittings her mother wanted to get started tomorrow.

  “Ah, Camberton Manor…” Her mother interrupted her thoughts again. “We have arrived. Your father ought to be here already; after all, he left two full days before us.”

  “Yes, I suppose he did.” Catherine smiled. “I have missed Father. Do you think he will have time to eat dinner with us tonight?”

  “I hope so. If you have missed him dearly, then imagine how I have missed him, Catherine,” her
mother sulked. “He is my husband, after all.”

  “Yes, of course, Mother.” She was not one to argue with things that made sense to her.

  The carriage came to a stop in front of Camberton Manor. The house was a large one, with a large bay window by the front door. Catherine had fond memories of sitting in front of that bay window as a child, watching for the carriages when her parents were watching her instead of the nannies that had been hired. When one would come up, she would be expected to be quiet and obedient in front of the visitors, but as soon as they had left, she could continue her window watching or playing with her dolls or whatever she had been doing before they pulled up to the house.

  The outside had been recently cleaned. The bricks sparkled in the sunlight, more dazzling than the snow that did the same. Each window seemed to have a small gleam to it, as if it was happy to see that its occupants had returned for another Season.

  “I have so missed Camberton, Catherine. What about you?” Her mother looked over to her as the carriage moved underneath them. Someone outside was getting off to help them out and unload all the trunks.

  “I have indeed missed Camberton, and Town in general.” She could not help but agree with her mother. Whether that was because of the fatigue of the journey or because she genuinely missed Camberton, Catherine wasn’t sure. However, she knew that it did not matter in the end. When it came time to go back to the countryside, she would also have begun to miss their residence out there.

  Having two houses to split her time between was rough sometimes. She supposed it was an upper-class problem, but she would not know for certain.

  She took in a deep breath; the cold air woke her lungs up and energized her for all of the things she would now have to work around or with. She had to make sure all her trunks made it up to her room, that Amelia was ready to start helping her unpack… there was a lot involved in getting ready for the Town Season, least of all was getting all settled into the house for the Season.