Healing the Duke’s Desires (Preview)

Chapter One

Calm, blue waters. 

Sand to sink one’s toes in. 

The horizon to take all of one’s cares away. 

Emily Fairchild, the daughter of the Earl of Ashfordshire, gazed at a recently finished painting that adorned the walls of her family’s drawing room, and these were the thoughts that immediately popped into her mind. Her sister Sarah had always been the artist of the family, while Emily herself, although skilled at pianoforte and singing, had never really liked the spotlight it put her in. She preferred the role of the delicate wallflower, although deep down, she longed for something different, something that would push through these confines of societal propriety and show her what it was truly like to live one’s life.  

As she gazed at the painting with envy of her sister’s artistic skills, Emily’s mind wandered to a world beyond the walls of her family’s estate. The distant crashing of waves and the salty scent of the ocean seemed to beckon her, igniting a yearning for adventure and the unknown. The financial strife of their family had recently become tangible. Everyone could sense that they had fallen on hard times, although outside the confines of these four walls, no one could know their shameful secret. 

In that moment, the painting became a portal, a glimpse into the world that lay beyond the boundaries of her sheltered existence, a freedom to be herself, to be as she truly was and not as others expected her to be. It symbolized the dreams and aspirations that quietly stirred within her, waiting for the perfect opportunity to unfurl.

How wonderfully apt Sarah is at awakening one’s deepest desires with her paintings, Emily thought. While quite an avid art lover herself, she had never possessed such skill of color, perception, or inspiration. In a way, her life had been a collection of things she liked to do, but those things to which she wanted to devote herself to, she had no talent for, and sometimes, this realization saddened her. 

She paced slowly about the drawing room, her golden blonde hair artfully arranged in a soft coiffure that showcased the intricate craftsmanship of the skilled fingers of her lady’s maid. Adorned with delicate ribbons, her hair added a touch of sophistication to her overall appearance. Her eyes, reminiscent of a cloudless summer sky, sparkled with curiosity at the painting she had just left behind. 

She glanced out the window to her right, witnessing a wonderfully sunny afternoon, which seemed to beckon her to go out into the garden and enjoy her afternoon tea with Sarah. The thought made her smile. She rushed out of the drawing room, heading down the elongated corridor where a new portrait of their parents was recently hung, yet another masterpiece of Sarah’s. In every corner of this grand old house, there was a reminder that Sarah was better at most things than Emily was. Sometimes, it was difficult to turn a blind eye to this. 

On the way to find her sister, she overheard heated voices coming from her father’s study, interrupting the serenity of the entire house. They felt like the sound of breaking glass, done by a raging hand. She doubted that she had ever heard her parents speak to each other in such a manner. 

It was wrong to listen in, but her curiosity won over. She tiptoed closer to the door, the rug beneath her feet absorbing the sound of her feet.  

“… high time… Emily… old enough… help…” 

Unconnected words followed each other breathlessly in one endless flow, with Emily being unable to hear the missing information and make any sense of it. But that cold talon of fear creeped up behind her, tapping her on the shoulder to remind her that it was there to ruin her peaceful afternoon, to transform her inner serenity into perplexing turmoil. 

Emily’s heart sank all the way down to her heels as her entire body trembled. Doing this was too risky. She didn’t want to be discovered eavesdropping on her own parents, but she simply couldn’t pull away. She wanted to find out more about what was going on. No. She had to. 

She looked around to see whether she was alone. Fortunately, for the time being, she was. With a quivering hand on the polished surface of the door for support, she pressed her ear against it. Curiosity intertwined with apprehension, and she was unable to tear herself away from the devastating conversation unfolding on the other side of the door. Her stomach twisted into knots as the weight of the words she had just heard settled upon her like a heavy shroud. 

“Patrick, please…” Her mother’s voice quavered with a mix of desperation and concern for their beloved daughter. “I implore you to reconsider this…” 

Emily listened intently, hoping to hear what the conversation was really about, although she could venture a good guess—a guess that made her fear for her own future. The question of her marriage had never been brought up, at least not with her present. That was why she always thought that she still had plenty of time to choose her suitor with much caution, because that was one of the most important choices one could ever make in life. A mistake could have dire consequences. 

“No, Anne…” Her father, Patrick, spoke with a voice tinged with frustration and anxiety. Emily could hear that tone of finality that did not allow for any backtalk. 

“But selling Emily off to that despicable man… it is not right, Patrick,” Emily’s mother urged and pleaded, but to no avail. 

The word “selling” settled inside Emily’s heart, sinking all the way down to the bottom. What did they mean by that? She couldn’t understand how one could sell another human being. This led her to press her ear even harder to the door, her heart beating so wildly that it threatened to jump right out of her chest and barge into the room, demanding an explanation for this. 

“My mind is made up.” The harsh voice of Emily’s father permeated the door through which Emily was listening. “Tobias has offered to pay off our debts and save us from financial ruin. All he is asking in return is Emily’s hand in marriage. I don’t think I need to explain to you how fortunate we are for this chance to have all of our financial woes become a thing of the past.”

Upon hearing this, Emily’s gasped soundlessly, placing her hand to her lips in an effort to remain silent. So, that was what they meant by selling someone. She would be the means of saving her family from financial ruin, by marrying her off to Tobias Montclair, the Marquess of Thornton. The little contact Emily had had with him assured her he was the last man in all of London she would want to marry. He was cold, cruel, and in desperate need of an heir, which meant he would do anything to obtain one. 

“It is the only way out of this mess we’ve found ourselves in, Anne. We have no other choice…” 

Emily’s heart pounded heavily in her chest, a mixture of fear and disbelief coursing through her veins. She clung to the faint hope that her parents would come to their senses, that they would realize the true cost of sacrificing her happiness for the sake of their financial stability. The marquess was a horrible man. Surely they could see that. 

But the reality of the situation bore down heavily upon her. Her future, once filled with dreams of love and adventure, now seemed bleak and suffocating. Could she ever find solace in a marriage forced upon her, shackled to an emotionless man she did not love? She fought hard to keep back the tears that threatened to stream down her cheeks as she grappled with the immense weight of her current circumstances. Her heart yearned for a different path, one where her own desires and happiness would not be subject to her family’s financial state. 

“But Patrick…” The voice of Emily’s mother was becoming fainter and fainter, and Emily knew she was losing this battle. Her father’s mind was made up. That much was obvious to everyone. 

Every fiber of her being urged her to barge in and tell her father that she would not do it. But as the older daughter, there were certain expectations of her. She would not be the first or the last daughter of a family that needed salvation from financial strife. Her refusal to comply would not amount to much. 

Emily couldn’t listen to any more of this. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as she turned away from the door and started to run down the corridor, her heart still heavy with the weight of the burden that was soon to be placed upon her, as the older daughter. Just as she was turning around the corner, she stumbled onto Sarah, who looked at her with concern etched on her face. 

“Emily?” Sarah asked, her eyes wide with surprise. “You seem distressed. Has something happened?” 

Emily looked at her with a mixture of turmoil and determination. She hesitated for a moment, torn between confiding in her sister and protecting her from the harsh reality of their predicament. Usually, her sister would be the first one she would go to with any problem she had. But not this problem. With a heavy sigh, Emily made a choice.

“It’s nothing, Sarah.” She did her best to smile and to calm her racing nerves. “I just overheard a minor disagreement between our parents. But it is nothing that should concern either you or me.” 

Sarah had always been able to read people’s gestures, to see through the veil of words they created if there was something they were endeavoring to hide. That was exactly what Emily was afraid of as she noticed Sarah’s brow furrow in confusion, sensing that there was more to this story than Emily was willing to share. She reached out to gently take Emily’s hand into her own, squeezing it lovingly. 

“Emily, I know you better than you think,” Sarah spoke wisely. “We are sisters. Whatever it is, you can confide in me.” 

Emily yearned to tell her everything she had just overheard, but that wouldn’t help anyone. Sarah needed to be saved from the brunt of this burden. Emily had already decided that, whatever happened, she would carry it on her own. Sarah would be protected from all of this. Emily would see to that. 

She smiled again, much more reassuringly this time. “You know I always tell you everything, right?” 

“Yes.” Sarah nodded, smiling back, her gaze fixated intently on her sister. 

“So, you know that if this was anything worth mentioning, I would tell you. You have my promise,” Emily said, blushing gently because she had done a horrible thing. She had just lied to the person she loved more than anyone else in the whole world. But this was a necessary lie. Hopefully, if Sarah ever found out, Emily would be forgiven for it. 

Sarah’s expression softened with a mix of understanding and disappointment. She reluctantly released Emily’s hand, respecting her sister’s wishes even as her worry lingered. Seeking a temporary respite from this turmoil, Emily changed the topic of their conversation, hoping they would both forget about it, at least for the time being. 

“Why don’t we have tea in the garden?” she suggested cheerfully. “The weather looks absolutely lovely, and I need a breath of fresh air after spending the entire morning inside.” 

Sarah’s face brightened with a spark of hope, clearly grateful for the opportunity to provide some comfort to her troubled sister.

“Why don’t we make it into a picnic? We can prepare a small picnic with our favorite treats and find a peaceful spot amidst the blossoming flowers.” 

“I think that sounds splendid.” Emily beamed. 

As they made their way to the garden, Emily’s steps became lighter, her burden momentarily set aside, allowing serenity to wash over her. The fragrant scent of blossoms filled the air, and the soft whisper of the wind brought a sense of tranquility. They carefully laid out a delicate tea set upon a quaint, flower-patterned cloth, their favorite biscuits and pastries arranged with care. They sat together, the gentle warmth of the sunlight enveloping them and casting a soothing glow upon their troubled hearts.

In that tranquil garden, amidst the blossoms and the delicate clinking of teacups, Emily found a glimmer of hope. Even in the midst of uncertainty, there were moments of respite and solace to be cherished. And with her sister by her side, she felt a renewed sense of strength and determination to face whatever challenges lay ahead, confident in their unwavering bond.

That night, Emily dreamed of Sarah’s painting. 

Calm, blue waters. 

Sand to sink one’s toes in. 

The horizon to the take all of one’s cares away. 

She wanted to run away to such a place, where no one would find her and where she would have the reins to her life, to her own happiness. But now, it seemed the calm blue waters were substituted by a storm that threatened to swallow her whole and take her all the way down, to the dark bottom, from which she would never surface again.

And the horizon… that was just a small glimmer of hope that was being slowly eaten up by the darkness of reality she had found herself in. 

 

Chapter Two

Three years. Three long, pain-filled years have passed, Alexander Blackwood, the Duke of Ravenswood, thought as misery gnawed at him little by little, chipping away at the heart he had locked up deep inside. Eventually, he knew, there would be nothing left to gnaw at, but he didn’t care. Maybe that would be for the best, to be completely empty, devoid of any emotion. 

Alexander’s study was enveloped in a hushed stillness, the only sound permeating the air the soft scratching of his quill against parchment. Usually, it soothed him. But his mind was far from the ledgers before him. Today marked the solemn three-year anniversary of his beloved wife Amelia’s passing, and the weight of her absence bore heavily upon his heart. Much more heavily than usual, in fact. 

Every single day since her untimely death, Alexander had been haunted by memories of their love, their dreams, and the profound emptiness that now resided within him. The pain had etched deep lines upon his face and cast a shadow over his once-bright gray eyes. He had vowed never to open his heart to such vulnerability again, shielding himself from the possibility of another devastating loss. Once had been more than enough. 

He inhaled deeply, putting down the quill pen and getting up from his escritoire. Slowly, he walked over to the window, which overlooked a blossoming garden, his late wife’s pride and joy. Now, it seemed to him that winter had settled in every corner of this house, as well as in every corner of his heart. 

As if that in itself wasn’t enough, fate had dealt him a new role—a guardian to his young cousin Rose, left in his care after the passing of his late uncle, along with the inheritance of the prestigious dukedom. Alexander had shouldered the responsibilities of his newfound position with unwavering dedication, diligently fulfilling his duty to find a suitable match for Rose. At least it was somewhat of a distraction from his own troubling thoughts. It was a new purpose, to lead someone into the next phase of life, to help young Rose find happiness. 

His mind wandered, and thoughts of Rose’s future mingled with memories of Amelia. The weight of his dual roles—vigilant guardian and grieving widower—proved to be an overwhelming burden, threatening to shatter his resolve. However, as he watched the gentle sway of the trees, a renewed determination stirred within him. He could not let his own grief overshadow Rose’s chance at happiness. It would be unfair to allow that to happen. He would fulfill his duty to find her a suitable match, guided by his late uncle’s wishes and his own sense of responsibility.

A knock on the door brought him back to the present moment. 

“Yes?” he called out, his back to the door and his hands locked behind his back as he gazed at the garden beneath him. 

The door pushed open only slightly, and the aged visage of Alexander’s butler, Mr. Stirling, appeared before him. Time had etched deep lines of wisdom upon his face, testament to the years of dedicated service he had rendered to the aristocratic household he had faithfully served. His silver hair, neatly combed and perfectly styled, spoke of a bygone era. With each measured step, he exuded an air of authority, his posture exquisitely poised as if his very presence commanded respect. Every movement was calculated and deliberate, a testament to his meticulous attention to detail.

“I apologize, Your Grace, but your aunt is here,” Mr. Stirling informed him courteously. 

Alexander raised an eyebrow. “I don’t remember being informed of her visit.” 

“You know how your aunt is, Your Grace,” the old butler allowed. “She usually forgets to call ahead.” 

“Indeed.” Alexander sighed, knowing well what that meant. She expected him to drop whatever it was he was doing and spend some time with her. He raked his fingers through his hair, wondering what to do. Although he had a ton of work to focus on, his aunt was a woman who loved spending time with family. And sadly, they both had so little family left. 

“Should I inform her that Your Grace is unavailable right now?” Mr. Stirling offered, always the considerate servant to his master. 

Alexander shook his head, appreciative of the gesture. “That won’t be necessary, Stirling. Thank you. I cannot focus on work anyway. I might as well spend some time with her. Have them bring us some tea in the drawing room if you will.” 

“Of course, Your Grace.” Mr. Stirling bowed courteously and, a moment later, closed the door behind him. 

As soon as Helen Blackwood, Alexander’s aunt, laid her eyes on him, she welcomed him into a warm, loving embrace. Although it was actually her late husband, the previous Duke of Ravenswood, who was his blood relative, he had grown to love and respect Helen as if she were his own family, not merely family through marriage. 

He returned the embrace cordially and they both settled on the chaise lounge next to each other. Despite her habit of not calling before visiting, Alexander had to admit that her company always managed to lift his spirits. She was simply like that, a positive, outgoing person who knew how to get someone out of their shell, if only for a short while. 

“It is always nice to see you, Helen,” he greeted her with a smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected visit?” 

Helen didn’t reply at first. Instead, she rummaged through her miniature reticule, boasting an intricately beaded exterior in a delicate floral pattern. His aunt had always been the one for showcasing artistry and craftsmanship. She proceeded to take out a small handkerchief, a scent bottle, and a handful of coins. The last item was a small, folded note. 

“This,” she said, offering him the note while she tenderly placed all the other items back inside, storing them neatly before closing the small clasp, which ensured that the contents would remain safe and secure. 

Alexander resisted the temptation to ask what it was as he unfolded the note and quickly skimmed through it. It was an invitation to Lady Ashfordshire’s ball, the same one he had received several days prior and had paid very little heed to. He folded it again and handed it back to her. 

“I see,” he said, without any interest. 

To be quite honest, balls were the last thing on his mind. He longed for solitude, for a quiet refuge where he could reflect and find solace in his memories. The idea of masking his grief behind a façade of social pleasantries seemed unbearable. The weight of it bore heavily upon his shoulders, sapping his energy and dimming his spirit. But at the same time, he knew that with Rose, he had accepted a new responsibility—one that required of him, among other things, attendance on such occasions such as Lady Ashfordshire’s ball.

“You will surely attend, will you not?” Helen inquired politely as a knock on the door announced that their tea was about to be served. 

As the delicate aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the air, two busied servants entered the room with a silver tray, gracefully placing the porcelain cups and saucers on the table before Alexander. The warm, comforting beverage offered a momentary respite, allowing him to collect his thoughts before responding to his aunt.

Gently stirring his tea, he contemplated the implications of his decision. On the one hand, attending the ball would allow him to fulfill his obligations to his family and showcase a united front amidst their social circle. It would provide an opportunity for him to engage with friends and acquaintances, offering a temporary escape from his inner turmoil. And most importantly, he needed to be there for Rose. She was his responsibility now, and he wanted her to know that she could count on him for anything. That, of course, required his constant presence. 

On the other hand, the ball represented a stark reminder of the void left by his late wife. The lively music, the laughter, and the gaiety that would fill the ballroom seemed incongruous with the somberness of his heart. He wondered if he could bear the weight of those festivities, if he could plaster on a smile and pretend that his world hadn’t been shattered, even if it was for only several hours.

“I suppose it is required of me,” he said heavily, aware of the fact that as Rose’s guardian, he needed to be there for her second Season. 

As he sipped his tea, the warmth spreading through his body, a resolve began to take hold. Despite his personal reservations, attending the ball was not solely about Alexander’s own desires. It was about honoring his family, their legacy, and the expectations that came with his position. Society would not allow him to become a recluse just because of a personal tragedy. However, he didn’t care one bit what society would think of him. 

“I want you to know how grateful Rose and I have been for all your support,” Helen spoke sadly, reminiscing of her late husband, whom she had loved dearly. 

Alexander could understand that pain. It had been, after all, only eighteen months since the death of his uncle, who had been another father figure in Alexander’s life, and thus held a special place in his heart. But it seemed that fate was adamant in taking everyone Alexander loved. He couldn’t understand what he had done to deserve that. 

He smiled in return. “We are a family,” he reminded her. “Family is supposed to help each other.” 

“Not every family is like that,” she told him, sounding melancholic but unwilling to delve more deeply into this. “We are fortunate to have you as ours. But also… permit me to be so bold, but it has been three years since Amelia’s death. Knowing her, I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to wither away inside your study, hiding from the rest of the world.” 

He bit his lip, not wanting to reply to this. The truth was that she was right. Amelia had been the life of the party wherever she went. She was the light of life embodied within a woman. She demanded attention wherever she went, and yet, she had chosen to be his. Seeing him like this would have destroyed her. 

But he couldn’t do anything about that. His heart was broken, and it would never be whole again. Why pretend otherwise? 

“You are still a young man with your entire life ahead of you. She would want you to move on, to find someone else,” Helen said, her expression revealing a fear that she might have crossed the line. 

The mention of Lady Ashfordshire’s ball and the suggestion of finding a wife felt like a cruel twist of fate, a reminder of the void that had been left in Alexander’s life. His beloved Amelia’s absence loomed large, and the pain of her loss gripped him anew, digging its painful canines into his most aching spot.

Despite the anguish that coursed through him, Alexander had to put on a façade for his aunt’s sake. He mustered a smile, masking the turmoil within, determined not to cause her any distress. Her concern and well-intentioned suggestions were born out of love, and he didn’t want to burden her with his internal struggles.

With a gentle nod, Alexander acknowledged Helen’s words. He appreciated her concern and understood the societal expectations placed upon him. The notion of finding a wife, however, felt like an insurmountable task. How could he possibly open his heart again when it still ached for Amelia?

“I will gladly attend Lady Ashfordshire’s ball with you and Rose, dear aunt,” Alexander assured her, but he didn’t want to give her any false hope. The thought of ever loving someone again felt as foreign as a sunrise in the west. 

“There will be so many lovely young ladies in attendance,” Helen urged. “I’m not saying you should do anything you don’t feel comfortable with. Just… don’t close yourself off to the possibility of happiness.”

He sighed heavily. She had no idea what it was she was asking of him. His heart rebelled against this idea. Amelia was irreplaceable. But at the same time, he knew that life continued to move, like a river that flowed endlessly, refusing to wait for anyone. Societal expectations functioned in more or less the same manner. The world around him expected him to grieve, then move on and rebuild what he had lost. 

With a silent sigh, Alexander resolved to navigate the path ahead as gracefully as he could. The smile he wore was a mask, concealing the anguish that dwelled within, and he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet. Too little time had passed for that. 

“Happiness is an elusive thing,” he said vaguely. “So, I cannot promise anything regarding that. But I can promise that I will attend this ball and keep you two ladies company.” He tried to smile, more for her sake than his own. She accepted his effort and smiled back. 

“Splendid,” she gushed. “Both Rose and I are so looking forward to it.” 

“I imagine it is so.” He nodded and tried to divert the conversation toward a different topic. “And how has Rose been doing?”

Helen was more than happy to talk about Rose, and Alexander listened intently, although his mind was still focused on the previous conversation. He would attend Lady Ashfordshire’s ball and fulfill his obligations, all while grappling with the bittersweet reality of searching for a new companion—and knowing deep in his heart that no one could truly fill the void left by Amelia’s absence.

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“Healing the Duke’s Desires” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Lady Emily Fairchild never even dreamed she would find herself trapped in the web of societal expectations, where her parents, driven by ambition and the desire for social status, orchestrate a marriage to the much older Marquess of Thornton. As she grapples with a fate imposed upon her, a chance encounter with the tempting Duke of Ravenswood, Alexander Blackwood, fills her world with lust.

Will the fiery Emily fight against her parents’ will?

Alexander, haunted by the loss of his beloved wife, is immediately drawn to Emily’s spirited charm and undeniable beauty. As their hearts entwine in a dance of forbidden desire, a scandalous love blossoms. However, the ghost of Alexander’s past love refuses to release its grip on his heart, preventing him from fully embracing this unexpected and passionate connection.

Will the specter of his past love forever shadow his sizzling romance with Emily?

In a world where society’s dictates clash with the desires of the heart, Emily and Alexander’s passion bursts into a burning affair. Shocking revelations and unexpected twists threaten to unravel their burning love, though. With the clock ticking and their fate hanging in the balance, will they defy societal norms to follow their hearts, or will they be condemned to a lifetime of longing and what-ifs?

“Healing the Duke’s Desires” 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!