A Race For The Duke’s Heart (Preview)

Chapter One

“Your father has been dead for three years and yet you are still unmarried, and you can’t produce an heir till you get married,” Lady Phoebe Ellis scolded her free-spirited son. 

Lord Owen Ellis, Duke of Blackmore sat slouched in the high-backed chair staring absentmindedly into the fire, dreaming about riding his horse. Above the mantle, a stern-looking Lord Ellis glared at him with a disapproving look. A horse crop lay across his lap. He was dressed to go riding, brownish-red tweed pants, a matching jacket, leather boots, and a pair of leather gloves finished off the outfit. He had been on his way out to meet his riding companion when his mother had called him into his late father’s study. She had been talking nonstop now for twenty minutes and he was bored and eager to get out into the sunshine. The birds were calling; he longed to smell the pine, oak, and moss and feel his horse beneath him as they rode through the woods jumping over fallen logs and cantering to the cliff’s edge where the most beautiful view could be taken in. His mother did not seem like she was going to stop talking anytime soon. So, he sulked and stared at the fire only half-listening. 

“It was your father’s wish, Owen, that you marry and have an heir to carry on the family name. You are our only son, without your son to carry the name, the name of Ellis dies and with it the Dukedom of Blackmore.”   

“You speak as if I don’t already know this,” he mumbled. 

“Speak up, and sit up, you’re a duke,for heaven’s sake.”

He sat up in his chair. 

“You spent too much time in that stable with Jack as a child, you seem to think you yourself are a groom. I know you tend to your own horse; you even muck the stalls.”

“Jack was more of a father than my father ever was, and you were not attentive to me, Mother, so I had to find love elsewhere, and Jack was happy and kind enough to fill that role for me. Believe me, Mother, if I had a choice, I would be a groom instead of a duke, but as I do not, I am a duke, and I take my responsibilities as a duke as responsibly as I can. No, I am not married, but I’m only 25, and people live a lot longer these days, so I have time to find a bride and produce an heir.”

“Your father thought he had more time, but the illness took him. There are no guarantees in life, so we must seize the moments when they come. Now you will either choose a wife, or I will, and you will not have any say. Not in her appearance, upbringing, or personality. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” he said, still brooding at the fire. “And I don’t care. I don’t care what she looks like, her upbringing, or her personality; she can have reign over the manor house. If I don’t like her, I’ll stay in the stables,” he added defiantly.  

His mother sat across from him with a straight back and not a wrinkle in her demure long-sleeved, high-collared black taffeta dress. Gold and garnet jewels decked the otherwise plain ensemble. Her white hair was piled and pinned neatly on the top of her head, while his was hidden beneath a tweed cap which he pulled off to run his hands through his dirty blond hair. He sighed loudly and his mother frowned at him but continued to prattle on.

“Since you will not take your responsibility seriously, I have taken it into my own hands. I have arranged a marriage for you with a proper well-bred young woman. I am in communication with her parents currently, to arrange for them all to visit before the season begins. When they do visit, you will be a proper gentleman and you will agree to marry her.”

“Whatever you want, Mother. Marriage is of no importance to me, but it appears my marriage is important to you; so you arrange it, pick the girl I am to marry, and I’ll show up and be the gentleman you expect me to be. I will provide the heir, give the lady whatever she desires to be happy, and I will spend my life with my horses, which makes me happy. Does that please you, Mother?”

She huffed. “I don’t just want you to be married, Owen, I want you to be happy with your marriage, the way your father was with ours. Happy marriage could be your choice if you had the right attitude about it.”

“So, you’re not pleased.” He huffed, blowing his bangs out of his face. 

“Will you not budge an inch?” she asked. 

“No, I will not. I will do my duty, but that is all marriage is to me.”

“Marriage is a duty to the woman, not the man,” his mother quipped. 

“Well, I don’t agree with that. It’s a duty to me, and that is all it will ever be.”

“Very well, I will arrange your dutiful marriage.”

“Well, it’s decided then.” He jumped to his feet. “I’m off to go riding. Horses are what I care about, Mother. They give me more pleasure than any woman could.” He paused at the door, his hand on the handle. “It’s a pity most women don’t care about horses. If I could find a woman who cared about horses as much as I did, well, there would be my perfect match.” He winked and she swatted him with her fan as he kissed her cheek and headed out. He jauntily jogged down the stairs, whistling to himself, and headed for the morning room where his good friend, Colonel Charles Godwin, was patiently waiting for him. Charles wore brown breeches and a black topcoat. He had a riding crop in his hand and his leather gloves. 

As Owen entered, he spotted Sophia Redman, a young lady who was staying with them at the request of her father, who had asked Owen and his mother to help her find a suitable, titled husband. She was dressed in a lovely white walking dress and in her hands was an embroidery ring. She was clearly flirting with the Colonel, who was clearly flirting back. He cleared his throat as he entered, and Sophia, seemingly startled, immediately turned and fled the room. 

“Oh Sophia, I didn’t mean to–” he called to her, but she had already fled the room. He felt guilty for chasing her away but what could he do?

“Is she afraid of you?” Charles asked laughing and pointing in the direction Sophia had run off in. 

“Honestly, I didn’t mean to startle the poor girl, or interrupt what I think I saw.” He winked. 

Charles cupped his hand to his ear. “What’s that? I do believe Hermes is calling you. Your one true love.”

“So, I did interrupt what I thought I saw,” he probed. “Sophia is a fine catch.”

“Yes, but I’m not.”

“Pish posh! You’re still a nobleman’s son, you still have money.”

“I’m a colonel in the military because I have no money of my own. When my father died, my brother decided to cut us off, he said he needed all the money for his heirs. So my friend, I am a penniless military man, a woman like Sophia is out of my league.”

“If I were a king, I would get rid of the whole class system, and let everyone marry for love. There would be a lot less unhappy people that way.”

“Don’t you know dissatisfaction and oppression make the world go round?” Charles said and they both laughed. “It must, that’s the only reason I can think of that would lead to every ruler having the desire for it.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“No, but they are. Society is.”

“Don’t you dare speak those words in society, you’d be forever shunned for it and I would be too by association, but in private and in all fairness, I agree with you.” Owen grimaced. “I look at my own town and wonder how I can help the people. There are so many poor and downtrodden, but I do not have a clue of what I can do.” 

Owen shook his head, a sigh escaping from him. “I hope my wife is the kind of person who will knit blankets for the poor in the winter and who is not afraid of holding a crying baby or tending to a sick person. Someone with compassion. I do not want a stuck-up selfish woman who wants to spend all my money on herself when so many people are in dire need.”

Letting his shoulders sink he continued, “But I imagine that is exactly the kind of wife my mother has found for me: a shallow, vain, and heartless woman who only wants to marry me for my money and title. A woman like that could never make me happy. But that is the way society women are raised, with their noses in the air.”

He heard a gasp and glanced at a pillar. 

“Do you have something to say about that, Miss Sophia?”

She did not say a word. 

“Not that I think you are one of those women, from what I can tell, you are not stuffy, shallow or vain. You do not want to marry a man for his money or title, that’s your father’s wish, so I commend you on that.” 

Owen smirked as he gave Charles a playful shove, and said to Sophia, “Ignore your father’s wishes and marry for love, you may be poorer for it, but you will be much happier for it. Furthermore, I know a man who would gladly marry you, if you wouldn’t mind being a poor colonel’s wife.”

“Owen!”

“Is it true, or isn’t it?”

His friend nodded. “But Sophia deserves better than I could ever give her, she deserves–”

“Will you give her safety, happiness, and love?”

“Yes.”

“Then what more would she need?”

“Stability for one. I’m a military man, I could be called away to battle at any given moment and well, I could die, leaving her a poor widow.”

“Yes, and you could fall off the cliff or be thrown from your horse and die, you can’t live in fear of dying my friend, you would never live.”

“Never live? I have lived through two battles, I have seen the world, if either one of us has never lived, it’s you, my friend. You never leave your estate,” Charles said. 

Owen whacked him with the crop and then began running towards the stables with Charles chasing after him. From her hiding place behind the stone pillar, Sophia giggled at the exchange. Owen glanced in her direction. Charles finally caught up to him and they began walking slowly, enjoying the balmy day. They followed the path to the stables, lined with flowers all in bloom in their beds, their sweet aroma perfuming the air. Owen took a deep breath, momentarily captivated by the gardens. He loved this time of year as the world was transitioning from spring to summer. It was the perfect condition for riding, and he wanted to spend every moment he could with Hermes. 

“What’s got you bothered this afternoon?” Charles remarked, noticing his friend’s suddenly morose demeanor.

“My mother.” Owen sighed. “She has decided it is time for me to do my duty and get married and produce an heir. I told her I had no interest, so she has arranged a marriage. Congratulate me, my friend, I am engaged.”

“To whom?”

“She did not say.” Owen glanced back at the house, worried realization dawning on his face. “I wonder though.”

“What,” Charles asked, pausing alongside his friend.

“If it’s her, I will refuse the match.”

“If it’s who?” Charles asked not understanding Owen’s meaning. 

“Sophia. I know you have feelings for her, and I wouldn’t dare take her from you,” Owen said as they continued. Charles was silent for a moment as he glanced back at the house. 

“Her father would never allow us to marry,” he said at last, kicking the dirt with his boot.

 “I’m a third son, untitled, I don’t have to face that situation, but at the same time, I don’t get to be with the one I love. I would rather she ends up with someone kind and someone who I know and trust more than any other titled man. She’s a gentle soul, and I’d hate to see it crushed out of duty. Come now, we’re not talking about me anyways, we’re talking about you. If it’s not Sophia, who do you think your mother has in mind for you?”

“I have no idea.” They reached the stables, and Owen fussed and fawned over his horse. “Hello, old chap.” He patted his horse’s nose with love. “You ready to go for a ride, Hermes?” He ran his hand along his coat till he reached the saddle. The groom came. “Hello Jack! Did you hear the news? I’m to be married.”

“Congratulations, sir.”

“Don’t congratulate me yet, I haven’t met the woman. Mother has made the arrangements. I am to meet her and her parents at some point before the London season begins. Mother casually decided it was not worth her time to tell me who they were.”

“Well, I hope she brings you joy and happiness and a healthy heir.”

“A healthy heir sure, but joy and happiness are very unlikely unless she has four legs and a tail.” Jack and Charles laughed. “I cannot imagine a wife would ever bring me joy and happiness, though I’d settle for a lady who knew her way around horses. Truth be told though, what lady knows things of that nature?” 

Jack laced his fingers and hoisted Owen up into the saddle, not replying. He helped Charles into the saddle before wishing the men a good ride. They headed out of the stable yard and across the front of the house to the road. Beyond the road was a wooded area where they loved to ride. 

“Promise me something, Owen.” Charles glanced at the house and caught Sophia sitting in the window watching them longingly from the upstairs bay window.

Owen glanced back as well, disdain playing out across his face. The house was aged, brown stone with three steepled roofs on the sides with bay windows, turrets, and maiden’s towers. A squat square tower rose from the center of the roof. The front of the house was hidden by an arched shrub. The front of the house had an open archway that allowed the carriage to bring them right to their door before moving on to the carriage house. The garden was manicured to perfection. Owen’s mother would have it no other way. Blackmore Manor was one of the largest and most lavish estates, the envy of all. It looked like a castle, and everyone admired it, but to Owen, it was cold and drafty and never felt like home, though he had lived there his entire life and was likely to live there for the rest of his life. Blackmore Manor had always been the home of the Duke and it would be his home for as long as his family line continued. “Don’t give up on the chance to marry for love. One of us should,” Charles said as they passed the house and headed for the wooded area beyond it. 

“I was going to say the same to you. If I were to fall in love with a woman, completely, she would have to be a horse person, and how many ladies of society do you know who are horse people?” 

Owen chuckled softly. “Ladies ride when and only when they must. They don’t enjoy it as men do, and they certainly don’t know how to care for horses, so marrying for love, well, it’s out of the question, but, if there is a woman out there for me and I find her, then I will marry for love.” He smiled. “Does that please you?”

“It will do, for now,” Charles said. 

“Enough of this talk, let’s give the horses the opportunity to stretch their legs, shall we?”

Charles smiled back and then they picked up their pace and trotted across the manicured lawns, past the stone fountain surrounded by a bed of blooming flowers. They leaped the hedge separating the gardens from the untended field and cantered off toward the woods. It was a beautiful day, and the trees were full of wonderful sounds; birds sang in the branches as they cantered through at a quick pace, jumping over fallen trees. Owen knew the path well; he had only ridden it every day since he was a small boy. Jack had taken him under his wing and had practically raised him in the stable. To Owen, Jack was more a father than his father had ever been. Jack had taught him life’s lessons and had taught him all he knew about horses. Owen had never been too vain or too proud to roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty when he had to. He could find his way blindfolded; he was sure Hermes knew the way as well as he did. Probably even better. Charles struggled to keep up as Owen effortlessly jumped Hermes over another log. 

“Shall we head to the cliff or the beach?” he called out over his shoulder as Charles struggled to get his horse to jump the log. 

“The cliff. I just love that view,” Charles said as he once again circled his horse around and prepared for the jump. At last, he made it and without praising his horse, he trotted on after Owen, who had picked up his pace again. 

Chapter Two

The birds were singing in the trees, the sun was warm on her face, and she could smell the sweet aroma of various flowers in bloom as Laura walked down the little dirt road leading away from the church, heading home to her elderly and disabled father who she adored.

In her arms, she was carrying a bag of grain given to her by the church. Her dress was simple, cotton and blue, the colour of her eyes. She wore a delicate brooch at her collar and a black shawl was draped over her arms. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon. She refused to put her hair up; she was not a lady so why should she try to look like one? Her old leather boots peeked out from the hem of her dress as she walked, her toes pinched because they were too small, but she tried to ignore that as she focused on the world around her.

As she walked, enjoying the day, she did her best to ignore her unwanted companion, the Vicar, Adolphus Rumley. Her thoughts were far away, running through the woods on the back of her horse, where she longed to actually be. She was feeling annoyed and a little embarrassed by the sermon that was obviously directed at her.

She had been made the centre of the village’s gossip wheel as of late, since the Vicar has made his intentions made regarding her, and she despised the attention, both from the other village women and from the Vicar.

“Your dress is as lovely as the sky, as beautiful as your eyes, and your hair is like the sky at night, or like the wings of a raven. Yes, yes, your hair is like the wings of a raven. Have you ever thought to put it up like the other ladies your age wear it? You’re not a child anymore, Laura, and it may do you well to act as such.”

“I have no desire to look like the other women. I like wearing my hair down, and I’m not about to change that. I am also aware of my age, and I do not care for your pestering me about my appearance.” 

“Perhaps if you conformed to societal ways, you’d be more likely to find a husband. Then again, I am glad that I have no competition for your affection.”

“I have no affection for you or anyone else, Vicar. I have no affection for anyone but my father, and that isn’t likely to change anytime soon.”

“You’re far too pretty a girl to be a spinster.”

“Are you attempting to flirt with me, Vicar?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?” He blushed. “Not very well it appears.”

“You’re wasting your time, nothing you could say would impress me, or change my affections. I am simply not interested. Good day, Vicar.” She picked up her pace, but to her dismay, he would not be brushed off that easily. 

“Look Laura, I’ve never been good at the courting ritual. I am much better with the sermon, like today’s sermon. I was rather pleased with it. I wrote it with you in mind.’

“I gathered as much, on both accounts.” She rolled her eyes and kept walking.  

He began reciting the sermon, much to Laura’s dismay. “When a woman marries, she becomes her husband’s property. A woman’s duty is to her husband. She must keep his house orderly, cook his meals, and tend to his every need. A woman’s job is to bear and raise his children. A woman must put the needs and desires of her husband and children before her own. For example, say the woman wanted to go riding. She was used to being free to ride all afternoon, but when she becomes a wife, she must first tend her husband and second tend her children, leaving no room to tend to herself or her own fancies. A woman should be the first to rise every morning and the last to bed unless her husband calls her to his bed. A woman–” He reached for her free hand. Laura quickly moved the bag of grain into that hand to avoid the contact.

“You’re not making your point any better, Vicar,” Laura stated coldly.

“Please, I’ve asked you to call me Adolphus.”

She scoffed. “Why would I call you that?”

“That is my name.”

“I feel it wrong to call someone I am not close with by their first name,” she said picking up her pace again. He caught up to her and noticing she was now holding the grain in her arm closest to him, he sneakily moved to the other side of her. Custom dictated it was customary for the man to walk on the outside toward the road, so the woman did not get drenched by a carriage splashing in mud, but seeing there was no mud today, that was clearly not a worry on his mind. When he once again tried to take her hand, she turned and dumped the heavy sack of grain into his arms. “Because you seem overly interested in holding something, you may carry this for me. It’s a far better use of your hands than trying to hold mine because as I have expressed, I have no interest, and will therefore not give you permission.”

“Laura, I am your best chance at a decent life,” the Vicar stated, a look of surprise on his face.

“You think making me serve your every desire is giving me a better life?” She scoffed. “I have a good life. I am incredibly happy in my life because I have freedom and I can go riding all afternoon and no one tries to stop me. I see to my father’s every need and I still find time to ride every afternoon. If I became your wife, I would die of boredom.”

“Boredom? You would be too busy with the cooking and cleaning to ever worry about boredom. Your chores would keep you terribly busy, and when those were done, you would have other duties, the duties of a vicar’s wife. A vicar’s job is never done, and neither is his wife’s.” He paused, taking a breath. 

“Your father won’t live forever and you’re not getting any younger. Do you want to end up in a poor house when your father dies leaving you in debt? A woman cannot own property, so your little stable will be sold, your horses will be sold to the glue factory. If you agree to marry me, I could offer you a good home and I could pay off your father’s debt. I would even let you bring your horses, though there would not be much time for riding between the chores at home, the duties of a vicar’s wife, and your wifely duties. I am a holy man, Laura. I follow God’s word to the letter. What better could you find?”

They arrived at her father’s cottage. Her horse, Patience, called out to her from her paddock. 

“What man wouldn’t be better than a man attempting to force himself and his wishes on a woman. As it stands, I always find time for riding.” She stopped to pet the nose of her horse. “And another thing, having money doesn’t make you holy.”

He stopped in his tracks and turned red in the face. Then he dumped the grain back into her arms and stormed off. 

She watched him as he walked away muttering to himself. 

“Why are only men like him interested?” she asked her horse as she stopped to pet her. 

“Why can’t I find a nice man who loves horses as much as I do? Maybe a groom from one of the estates. He does not have to be handsome. He just must love me and he must love horses, not just see them as a tool.”

 The door opened and her father appeared.

“I know I am not a lady, but I do wonder if I would be treated better if I were.”

“Not necessarily, my girl, you’re a good person and a man’s behavior depends on him, not on you.”

“Father, I will never marry, but it doesn’t matter, as long as I have you and the horses,” Laura stated confidently as she put the sack of grain away.

He coughed and she turned to him. “What are you doing out of bed?” she chastised as she ran to him. She hooked her arm over his and helped him back to the rickety old bed. 

“You bring joy to me when I see your pretty face.” He touched her cheek lovingly as she fussed with his pillow and blankets, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. Then she went to the stove and put on a kettle of broth. 

“I saw the exchange between you and the Vicar.” He started coughing between sentences. “I am glad you sent him away empty-handed. You can do better than that, Laura. Don’t let anyone tell you that you can’t.”

“Rest!” she scolded. “Once you’re asleep, I can go riding,” she added with a twinkle in her eye. He laughed and that sent him into a coughing fit. She got him a glass of water before continuing. “No more talking or laughing,” she scolded. “I need you to live long enough for me to find my happily ever after.”

“You’ll find it.” He patted her hand. “Just be patient. The right man is out there, just waiting for you.” She stirred the broth and then using the grain she had been given, she set to making bread. She used the last egg, the last of the salt, and a cup of flour. When the dough was ready, she imagined it was the Vicar’s face as his words played through her mind again. “The nerve of him,” she said out loud. 

“What?”

“The Vicar’s sermon this morning, it was meant for me.”

“What was it about?”

“The duties of a married woman.”

“Oh, dear.” Her father shook his head. “The man is desperate. You’re the prettiest unclaimed girl in town. If he cannot have you, he will end up with one of the Ryerson twins.” Shaking his head and laughing, he said, “Poor girls, they got hit with an ugly stick.”

“Jamie Ryerson would make the perfect vicar’s wife. She’s so sweet, and everyone already adores her, but I would not even wish the Vicar on her. Just the way he talked about how a woman’s duty was first to her husband and then to her children and how she had to put aside her own desires and time for theirs like hers don’t even matter.” She pounded the bread. “He used me as his example. I love to go riding every afternoon. If I were to marry him, I would not be allowed to do that, because I would not have time. I tend to your every need and I still find time to ride every afternoon. It is not like he lives in a palace. The vicarage is not much bigger than this stable. I could easily get all the chores done.” 

She grunted and pounded her fists into the dough again. “I don’t know what I’m carrying on about, I’ll never agree to marry him, and you won’t make me, so I have nothing to worry about.” She threw the dough onto the table and began rolling it out. Then she filled it with ground nuts and apple slices. Then she folded it up, sealed it shut, and put it on the baking stone by the fire to cook. She stoked the fire and added an extra log. “Are you really in debt?”

“In debt? Who told you I was in debt?”

“The Vicar did.”

“No, I’m old, poor, and crippled, but I am not in debt.”

“He said when you die if I’m not married, I’ll end up in a poor house.”

“No, if you are not married when I die, go to a nunnery. At least there you could still ride and I will know you are safe, God will look after you.”

“Yes, that’s what I should have told him, that I’d rather be a nun than marry him.”

“But I do hope you marry and give me grandchildren. I’m elderly and crippled but I’m not fatally ill and I won’t be dying anytime soon, so you can stop fussing.” He started coughing again. She got him a glass of water. When the bread and broth were ready, she served it to him and then took her own small meal. When the food was done, she washed the few dishes, and then when her father was finally asleep, she saddled Patience, pulled herself up into the saddle straddling the horse’s back like a man, and headed out for the woods. 

The birds were calling to them and they were obliged to follow. There was nothing Laura loved more than riding Patience through the woods, jumping logs and cantering to the cliff’s edge where the most beautiful view was to be had.  The cliff overlooked the ocean, and she could sit there atop her horse staring out across it. Sometimes she would see whales and other sea life. Sometimes she would see ships on the horizon coming or going. She wondered what was beyond the water. She had heard and read about the Americas. She wondered if it was as wonderful as she imagined; not that she had any desire or way to get there, she just liked dreaming about it. Maybe when her father died, she would sell the stable and book a one-way trip across the water, surely her chance at a happy life was more possible there if she did not find it here. The prospects were getting thinner and thinner with each passing day, but she refused to believe that Adolphus or men like him were her only option. Surely there was someone else. She would hold out if it took, and if it never took, she would be content if she had horses to love. 

She heard riders approaching from the west, where the wealthy lived. Not wanting to be insulted or abused by them, she quickly made her escape back to the clearing where she knew they were not likely to go. As she rode away, she could not help but turn and see the most beautiful horse appear on the cliff. She admired it and then glanced at the rider and gasped, it was Lord Ellis, the Duke of Blackmore. His companion was less elegantly dressed, but they looked dangerous and out for a bit of fun. She turned away and picked up her pace, afraid she would be caught and dragged into whatever wicked game they chose to amuse themselves with. Young lords like that were cads. They were self-absorbed, selfish and they took what they wanted when they wanted it and they did not who got hurt in the end as long as they had their fun. If something did happen, she would be forced to keep it a secret and he would never be charged or reprimanded for it. And she would be ruined, not even the Vicar would want her after that, especially if she bore his child. A child who would be branded a bastard for his entire life. A royal by blood without the right to anything.

 She picked up her pace and made it safely to the clearing. Her heart was racing, and she had to dismount and lean against a tree till it stopped and she had caught her breath again. She glanced nervously about, but there was no sign of the riders. 

 

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“A Race For The Duke’s Heart” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Laura Pike is not the quintessential English maiden people would imagine. She has never wished to become a lady, but rather enjoys being different… In fact, what keeps her happy is being outdoors and caring for her father, as well as spending most of her time with Patience, her horse. Little did she know her serenity would be disturbed for good when a runaway horse would appear at the bottom of the cliffside along the ocean. Her heart skips a beat though, when she sees its charming owner, Duke Owen Ellis of Blackmoor Manor. In her experience, all dukes are callous and deplorable examples of human beings, but upon first impressions of him, Laura is left feeling rather enchanted and therefore confused. Will Laura overcome her fascination caused by his enigmatic but warm presence, or will she allow her overwhelming feelings to blossom?

Lord Owen is the only heir of the Ellis name and Blackmore Manor following his father’s death. As for his mother, it was expected that her wish for him to marry Lady Marjorie Fielding, a spoiled London heiress, would be fulfilled. Life has other plans for Owen’s heart though, as when Laura is brought on as an equestrian trainer and tamer, he encounters warmth and affection for the first time. However, how could he betray his family’s expectation of marrying Lady Marjorie, who despite appearing pretty on the outside, is rather cruel on the inside? A dilemma awaits him, as the journey of becoming the man his father always wanted, would inevitably involve hurting the first woman he ever loved… In the end, which path will he choose?

Forced to choose between love and duty, the future is foreshadowed uninviting, unless Laura and Owen can find a way to overpower whoever tries to keep them apart. Will their love and devotion prove that their romance is unassailable? Most importantly, how could they both find the courage to ignore tradition, and not dismiss their hearts’ one true calling?

“A Race For The Duke’s Heart” is a historical romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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