It seems that the Duke of R. is settled in Spain. Or, rather, in the little principality of Respomuso, in the Pyrenean Mountains. Several travelers recently returned to England called at the castle in the tiny country’s one major town, to pay their respects to the royal Princesa and her guardian and uncle the Duque de Respomuso. R., they say, appears to be a fixture in the castle.

Readers will remember that the duke left for overseas after an insult to a very important personage indeed–a gentleman of the highest rank. It was the last straw. R. had seduced the daughters, wives, and mistresses of too many of Society’s leaders, been drunk and obnoxious at too many balls and dinners, borrowed too much money without any intention of paying it. Then he was heard by the personage in question making unpleasant remarks about that personage’s girth, taste, and ability as a lover.

A message was delivered. It would be wise for R. to take a long voyage.

Has it benefitted his health, we ask? Not according to the travelers from whom we heard this story. His head is still on his shoulders, which must be accounted a win, but he has gambled, drank, and womanized his way through Europe until he has run out of welcome almost everywhere.

How long until the Duque, by all accounts a respectable man, suggests that his guest moves on?

The Duke’s Price

By Jude Knight

As a governess, Ruth Henwood has always put her pupils first, sometimes sacrificing her own interest. The choice facing her now could become the highest sacrifice of them all.

Two men want her as their mistress. The Duque de Respomuso plans to wed the Princesa Isabella, Ruth’s fourteen-year-old pupil, but promises not consummate the marriage if Ruth will come willingly to his bed. The Duke of Richport promises help her and Bella to escape Isabella’s tiny Pyrenean kingdom, but his price is the same.
Ruth’s decision must be guided by what is best for Bella. No matter that one man repels her, but is widely admired as a wise ruler and a good man, and one man attracts her, but is well known to be wicked to the core.

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Excerpt from the Duke’s Price

Ruth Henwood was stuck like a rat in a barrel, and the Duque de Respomuso had his guns fully loaded and aimed. She could run, of course, but that would leave her pupil Bella to her uncle’s non-existent mercies. Besides, he would send people after her, and she doubted she would even make the border.
If she took Bella with her, she would ensure the recapture of them both, for he would leave no stone unturned until he had his princess back again. She was his sister’s daughter, and without her, he had no legitimate role in the principality’s government.
Her other choices were even less palatable. She could continue to refuse the Duque’s advances, but only for as long as he allowed her to do so—she could tell he was losing patience, and one day she fully expected him to take her by force. Probably somewhere in private, for he was still enamoured of his own reputation as the kindly uncle who loved his niece and fought to save her from the evils of Napoleon’s army.
Refusing him would not protect Bella, either. As her legal guardian, he had given consent to their marriage. A man approaching forty. Bella was only fourteen. Furthermore, she did not like her uncle. “He makes my skin crawl, Ruth,” she said. “And he is mean. He beats his servants. Also, he is disrespectful, not only to me, but to you and to Mother Caterina.”
Mother Caterina was the mother superior of the town’s convent of Carmelite nuns, and member of the Council that had ruled the principality during the war.
Bella was correct. The Duque acted like a gentleman when he was being watched by men of status, but in private, or when only women or servants could see him, he was rude, cruel, and offensive.
She had one chance to protect Bella. Except that she did not believe that would work either. He had made her a solemn promise—“On the bones of my sainted sister,” he said—that if she would come willingly to his bed, he would put off consummating his marriage to Bella.
Since Ruth had Bella’s word for it that her uncle had despised his sister, she had more than her instinct to say that his promise was not worth beans.
“Miss Henwood, good evening.”
The voice that interrupted her musing was far from welcome. Another duke. Another rake. The same intentions. Even if this duke, far from making her ill, had her all hot and bothered.