Page 1 of Her Duke to Seduce
Prologue
Lady Felicity Hathaway stared out the window of her Aunt Enid, the Countess of Winston’s, library. She had been sent to spend the summer months at the Winston estate, much to her chagrin. Her father, the Earl of Sheffield, had little time for her while he oversaw some renovations to his estate, and her aunt firmly believed he ought to remarry and provide Felicity with a new mother. Felicity, however, wished her aunt would mind her own affairs and leave them well enough alone. She loved her aunt—she truly did—but Enid’s opinions often clashed with her own, which only served to irritate her.
Like being sent to Winston Manor for the summer...
Her aunt had only recently married herself. Why would she wish to take charge of a ten-year-old girl at a time like this? Should she not be more preoccupied with her own new life? Felicity sighed heavily. She detested Winston Manor and being under her aunt’s ever-watchful supervision. At home, she had much more freedom to do as she pleased. Her father doted upon her, which was why she had been so shocked when he agreed to send her away for the summer. Why would he do such a thing?
“Felicity, dear,” her aunt’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “What are you doing in here?”
As if the library were a scandalous place for her to be.
Felicity rolled her eyes and continued gazing out the window, making no effort to respond. What did her aunt expect her to say? What answer would make her leave Felicity in peace and allow her to do as she pleased? “What would you like for me to be doing?” she asked in a dull tone. She truly hated it here. She sincerely hoped that after this summer, she would never have to endure another visit to Winston Manor.
“I have hired tutors to work with you this summer,” her aunt announced.
Felicity turned toward her, narrowing her gaze. “What sort of tutors?” The way her aunt phrased it—tutors—implied there would be more than one. What, precisely, did Aunt Enid believe she lacked in her education? Did she think Felicity’s father had failed to provide adequate instruction?
“Well,” her aunt began, “they will assist in giving you a proper education befitting a young lady.”
Felicity lifted her chin. “I assure you, Aunt, I have already had a proper education.”
“No, my dear,” Enid said firmly. “What you have had is an education befitting a gentleman. No lady need study mathematics, Greek, Latin, or any sort of science.”
Felicity bristled. “And why not? Do you suppose a girl lacks the intelligence to comprehend such topics?”
Her aunt sighed. “That is not it at all. But you must learn how to be a lady. If you insist upon discussing such things when you enter society, you will never find a husband.”
So that was it.
“Aunt Enid,” Felicity said slowly, enunciating each word, “I am ten years old. If a man wished to marry me now...” She let the thought trail off, giving her aunt a pointed look. Did she really need to explain it to her aunt? “Boys are disgusting anyway. I shall never marry one.”
She wrinkled her nose at the mere thought of it. The stable boy at her father’s estate was perpetually dirty and smelled awful. She could not fathom why any young lady would voluntarily spend her life in the company of a man, let alone marry one.
“You may change your mind one day,” her aunt said with a note of amusement. Felicity doubted it. “Be that as it may, your tutoring shall commence this afternoon. We shall begin with dance lessons.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Must we?”
“Yes, we must,” Aunt Enid replied, her tone brooking no argument. “A lady must carry herself with grace, and dancing is an essential skill. You will thank me when you make your debut.”
Felicity crossed her arms. “I have no desire to make a debut. Nor do I wish to prance about for some fop who only cares about how well I curtsy or how prettily I flutter my lashes.”
Her aunt pressed her lips into a firm line. “Your opinions, my dear, are far too strong for a young lady.”
“They are merely opinions,” Felicity replied. “And I fail to see why having them is so very terrible.” Her aunt should really learn to be less stringent. She would probably be much happier if she relaxed her ideals a little. She would never listen to anything a ten-year-old girl would say though. She had firm beliefs that nothing would change.
Her aunt sighed heavily and sat in the chair nearest the fireplace. “You remind me of your mother.”
Felicity’s breath hitched. Her mother was rarely spoken of in her father’s house. The few times she had dared ask about her, her father had gone silent, his expression darkening with sorrow. It was said that her parents had shared a great love, and that her mother’s passing had devastated him.
“My mother was strong-willed?” she asked cautiously. She knew so little about her mother, and any information—any fragment—was precious.
Her aunt’s gaze softened. “Very. And brilliant. She could outwit any gentleman in a debate and knew more about history than most scholars. But society is not kind to women who outshine men, Felicity.”
Felicity lifted her chin. “Then I shall outshine them all the same.” She would never marry.
Aunt Enid shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You are still a child. One day, you will see that life is not so simple.”
“Perhaps,” Felicity conceded. “But I stand by my beliefs. I doubt they shall change.”
