The Not So Perfect Duke (The Rakes of St. Regent's Park #5)
Approx: 77,000 words
Release date: November 29, 2022
Late Victorian Era Historical Romance
Cover art by Erin Dameron-Hill
Due to his father’s untimely demise, Damon Cranston is
thrust into the role of the Duke of Chellenham. His loathsome and debauched
father was too busy indulging in his vices and left the dukedom in shambles.
Damon turns to Althea Galway, co-owner of the Galway Investigative Agency, to
assist in unraveling the tangled mess. Since meeting Althea months ago, he
hasn’t been able to get her out of his mind, for he is captivated by her
intellect, compassion, and confidence.
Althea Galway has never been impressed by money or
title. Or by looks—although Damon, the devilishly handsome, golden-haired duke,
caught her attention at first glance. Arrogant and egotistical, he is called
Dorian Gray by society because of his reprobate reputation. But Althea senses
deep loneliness, perhaps even inner scars, and is compelled to find the
honorable man she believes is hidden behind the cool exterior.
Damon and Althea are swept up into a maelstrom of
revelations: a conspiracy involving the late duke and others from the privileged
class. Add a personal crisis into the mix, and finding a way to a shared future
together seems hopeless. But they cannot deny the scorching attraction between
them. Finding a way to make it all work will be a challenge. But it is one the
duke and the lady detective are determined to overcome.
And there was the haughty, imperturbable duke. Why she kept
trying to see any good in him was beyond her typical sound reasoning.
Disappointed, Althea fussed with her notebook and pencil.
“Then, by all means, let’s keep this professional. What can
I help you with?” Althea replied using her business-like voice.
“I want you specifically to handle the case. Wenlock and
Watford sing your praises. And Allenby, obviously.” Damon reached into his coat
pocket and removed a small cloth bag. “The first payment. Twenty gold
sovereigns.”
“Money, though welcome, is not an inducement for me to
take any case. I will need more information first.”
“The money is a bonus for the stipulations that will be part
of this investigation. I want to be involved every step of the way, as Allenby
was with his situation. This is non-negotiable.”
Althea scowled as she disliked anyone establishing
conditions on her inquiries. “Won’t that interfere with your thoroughly
debauched lifestyle? How will you cope?” she replied sarcastically. Honestly,
this man brought out the worst in her, and Althea did not like it.
“Still interested in my private life? Do you wish to ask me
probing questions as you did in Allenby’s case?” Damon replied with mockery in
his tone.
Althea shook her head, embarrassed at her statement. His
personal life was none of her business.
She was ready to apologize when he said, “I will make a pact
here and now. Throughout this case, I will live as a proverbial monk, be at
your beck and call, day or night. For the investigation, of course.”
“I will not ask for such a sacrifice from you, but I will
involve you should I take your case. What can you tell me?” She held her
pencil, ready to take notes.
“First. In the matter
of death. My father passed away late last night. I was called to his town house
at two this morning and have not been to bed since. I need you to send your
police surgeon to St. Thomas’s to assist with the autopsy. My father’s doctor
will be in attendance as well.”
“Was the death suspicious?”
Damon explained how his father was found as Althea furiously
took notes. Good Lord, these peers were a depraved lot.
“It could be a heart attack, as the detective alleged. How
old was your father?” she ventured.
“Fifty-seven. As far as I am aware, no heart problems. But
how am I to know? We were not close. We rarely spoke, let alone exchanged
private information regarding health or other sensitive topics.”
She looked up and met his gaze. Damon was watching her
rather intensely. “To be clear, you wish Doctor Buchanan to assist in the
autopsy. Is the mortuary doctor at St. Thomas’s aware of this?”
“Yes. And yes.”
“Is your carriage outside?”
“Yes.”
Damon looked weary; no wonder with no sleep. Blast it all
for feeling concerned about his welfare and state of mind. Besides all the
other conflicting emotions he brought forth, he also awakened the protective
instinct within her.
“Doctor Buchanan is at my uncle’s precinct this morning. I
will write a note, and your driver can take it to him. What time do you wish
him to be there?”
“Two o’clock. Sorry for the short notice. My father’s
physician, Doctor William Breaks, will also be there. I want a complete report.
And I want Buchanan to thoroughly question Breaks as to the state of my
father’s health.”
Althea continued to write her note. Without looking up, she
said, “It has been my experience that many doctors do not reveal their
patient’s personal health details unless compelled to do so.”
“Then write in your note if he doesn’t give details to
Buchanan that he will deal with my team of solicitors,” Damon snapped. “That
should compel him.”
Althea met his gaze, an eyebrow arching at his irritable
tone.
Damon rubbed his forehead. “I apologize.”
“Damon,” she said softly. His penetrating gaze grew heated
at her saying his name. “No apology is necessary. You said in your note that
your being here concerns life and death. Is there something else beyond your
father’s death you wish to hire the agency for?”
“Yes. It is rather complicated and does concern my late
father.”
“Then we will deal with your father’s death first. You’re
exhausted. Go home and sleep for a few hours. As soon as I have any
information, I will come to you. Will you be at 10 Clarendon Place?”
He rubbed his temple. “Yes, perhaps that is wise. And I will
be at the Brookton town house.”
“After your driver drops you home, he can deliver the note
to Doctor Buchanan, and I will take it from there. If you haven’t guessed, I
will take your case.”
“Thank you. I will try to catch some sleep and await your
arrival.” He stood and turned to leave, but halted. “I thank you for your compassion.”
He was gone, and Althea sat back in her chair. Never had she
seen him so vulnerable. It touched her deeply. She made a vow then and there.
To be more sympathetic in her dealings with him. To not allow him to infuriate
her or, worse—arouse more than her exasperation.
For she was correct, Damon Cranston, the new Duke of
Chellenham, was a danger to her heart.
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