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Duke of DishonorLords of Scandal

Tammy Andresen

Copyright © 2021 by Tammy Andresen

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14



Baron of Blasphemy

About the Author

Other Titles by Tammy

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Duke of Dishonor

Lords of Scandal

Tammy Andresen


January 1821


Emily Carrington sat in the parlor, well, one of many, at the home of the Duke of Devonhall. Her soon to be brother-in-law. She supposed this was about to be her sister’s home too, but as she looked around at the opulence, she couldn’t quite believe it.

The past six months had felt like a nightmare…and then a fairytale. But that came later…

Emily’s father ran a successful shipping company and he travelled often. Her chest tightened and she swallowed. At least, she hoped he still ran the shipping company. He’d left on a trip much like any other, well over a year ago. Or had it been closer to two? It was hard to keep track with all the madness.

The real trouble began when their mother passed. As if such an event would not break the spirits of four young women, their father never came home. He didn’t write to them, he didn’t return, and they weren’t even sure he was alive.

He usually travelled regular routes that allowed them, under normal circumstances, to communicate by letter. But they’d not heard a word in more than six months. Not since their mother’s death.

Emily covered her mouth with her hand, ignoring the babble of her sisters in the background.

As if all this weren’t enough, their uncle, the only male relative they had in England, had been systematically attempting to steal their father’s shipping business for years.

Which meant, not only were they orphans, but they had to hide their father’s disappearance from the one man who was supposed to help them.

She shivered in revulsion. Uncle Malcolm was supposed to protect them and instead he’d left them in a complete state of penury. They’d been defenseless and destitute. Alone and afraid.

She wrapped her arms about herself. Her sisters, Isabella and Eliza, had kept them fed, clothed, and warm. And now Isabella would surely marry a duke. They were saved.

What had Emily done all this time to help her family? Not a thing. Just two years younger than Isabella and three younger than Eliza, she might as well be a child, rather than a woman of twenty. She’d been at the mercy of the world and reliant on her sisters’ wit and wiles while she’d been helpless.

She’d smiled and hugged in support as she’d allowed her two older, stronger sisters to face danger time and again while she stayed home to care for Abigail.

Isabella was exceptionally talented mathematically, while Eliza was one of the bravest people she knew. What was Emily? Pretty, they said. Kind. But that wasn’t special or interesting.

She sighed to herself as Isabella raced into the room where Emily sat with Eliza and Abigail, their youngest sister. Isabella was pale, a note clutched in her hand.

Eliza stood. “What’s wrong?”

Emily’s heart thudded in her chest as Isabella covered her mouth with one hand. Then she dropped it again. “There’s been a fire. On one of Papa’s ships. Bash wants us to meet him at our home.” Then she cleared her throat. “I mean at father’s home. This is our home now.” And she gave a skeptical glance around the room.

The Duke of Devonhall had hired a woman to pose as their Scottish aunt in order to launch them into society and find them husbands. The imposter Aunt Mildred sat in a chair next to a fire, largely ignoring the girls. But at the mention of the duke, her head snapped up. Emily had to give the woman credit on one account. She was singularly loyal to her employer.

“Then let’s go.” Aunt Mildred waved her hand, gesturing them forward. “We mustn’t keep His Grace waiting.”

“I think this is a mistake,” she whispered, her gaze narrowing. Just this morning the Duke of Devonhall told them not to leave the house. Their uncle had threatened to sell them at auction to the highest-bidding husband. She shuddered inwardly and a cold fist clamped around her heart. Not a fate she relished.

But her sisters were in a flurry of conversation and neither acknowledged nor heeded her comment. Perhaps they hadn’t heard at all, but a quarter hour later, they were all seated in the carriage, bustling off to their Cheapside home.

Her feeling of unease didn’t lessen. In fact, her trepidation only grew. Why hadn’t she tried harder to be heard?

Not sure what else to do, she reached for Isabella’s hand, her eyes meeting her sister’s. Why hadn’t she objected more loudly? Insisted they stay home? Because she was meek, easing people’s fears rather than acting on her own.

Isabella stared back. “We should stop,” she said, squeezing Emily’s hand. Then she banged on the wall and the carriage slowed. Isabella was the most like Emily and their thoughts were in line now. Emily sighed with relief, giving Isabella a nod on confirmation. This trip was a mistake.

“Isabella?” Eliza asked, looking over at her as the carriage slowed. “What is it?”

“This doesn’t feel right,” Isabella answered. “Something is off. I can feel—”

“Who are you and what do you want?” the driver called as the carriage lurched forward again.

The girls gasped and Isabella fell back into her seat even as Emily fell toward her, bracing herself on Isabella’s legs.

“Stop that carriage or we’ll shoot,” a stranger’s voice called.

Emily squeaked out a tiny scream, fear pounding through her veins. She clutched her sister’s hand harder as she silently

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