A Maid for the Mute Duke (Preview)

Chapter One

November 1819

Somerset

Serena drew the covers over her head with an angry hiss, blocking out the autumn sunlight flooding her room.

“Oh no,” Olivia cried, yanking the covers off. “We are not doing this today, Ser. I will drag you out of this bed if I have to. Your bath water is ready.”

Serena groaned, opening one eye to glower at her friend. “Why?” she croaked, her voice still hoarse from the night before. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Olivia bundled the covers in her arms and threw them at the foot of the bed before reaching for a cup of steaming hot tea.

“Sit up, drink, and get ready for the day,” Olivia insisted. “Today is no different from any other day. Do you not recall that you have to be at the shop by nine? You promised your aunt you would get there early to complete Lady Fulton’s dress. The viscountess paid extra for quicker work.”

Serena sighed, pressing the heels of her palms against her closed eyes before she sat up. “Thank you,” she said, taking the tea from her friend. “I could do with several more hours of sleep after my performance yesterday. How many encores did I have?”

“Three, if I’m not mistaken?” Olivia replied, moving onto her belly and perching her chin on her hands.

“Hmm,” Serena moaned as she sipped the tea, appreciating the warmth spreading through her body. “Three sounds about right. I might have been fine if Mr Chudderle had not been so relentless. He would not leave me alone! Benjamin had to step in repeatedly when he refused to leave my side.”

Benjamin was her cousin from her father’s side and Lady Francisca’s personal guard. She met him soon after she moved in with her aunt and uncle, and they had become inseparable since then. The only other person who had his loyalty was Olivia. He was also madly in love with her, but Serena wasn’t sure if he realized it yet.

“Mr Chudderle certainly is one of your most passionate admirers,” Olivia agreed. “Just how many people does he know? He has been to nearly every performance this past month, and he becomes bolder each time he sees you. One day, he’ll try to follow you home.”

Serena groaned. “Do not even mention it!” she cried. “I do not wish the universe to hear and make it happen. Imagine if he were to discover that his beloved Lady Francisca is not a Spanish lady but Serena Yelverton, a mere commoner. I’d lose my main source of income.”

A seamstress by day and chanteuse by night, Serena lived a double life catering to her need for excitement, being financially independent, and using her talents. Being a songbird for the privileged had come about by complete accident, but it had changed her life dramatically. From being mistreated by her relatives, working her fingers to the bone, and sleeping in a tiny room that could barely fit a bed and a chest of drawers to having enough money to purchase a townhouse in the best area that Bath had to offer and employing her best friend and cousin—it was a dream come true.

Of course, her relatives weren’t aware of her double life and good fortune because she still stayed with them. Serena would rather live in her townhouse, but she needed to maintain her double life. Serena Yelverton was poor, so she could never have the means to leave her relatives and live elsewhere. She was only Lady Francisca once or twice a week, so at least she could still stay in her own house. Her aunt believed she was with Olivia whenever she didn’t sleep at home and never thought to question her. Aunt Gertrude didn’t care where she slept as long as she fulfilled her duties at the dress shop and didn’t do anything to bring shame to the family.

Unfortunately, her aunt, uncle, and cousins continued to mistreat her, although it certainly wasn’t as terrible as during her younger years. Now, her aunt needed her to ensure her dressmaking shop continued to run well. Being their best seamstress and highly sought after by their clients kept her relatives from being too harsh, but her aunt never ceased to remind her how much she owed them for taking her in after her mother abandoned her.

Serena shook her head, pushing those painful thoughts away. She didn’t like thinking about her past. She had a bright future to look forward to, so living in the past was pointless.

“Breakfast is ready when you are,” Olivia informed her. “Mrs Haversham knows how you love your eggs and pork sausages after a night of singing.”

“Hmm, just what I need,” said Serena. “Mounds of buttered toast smothered in strawberry jam, eggs with a runny yolk, well-blistered sausages that leak juices the moment you bite into them … My mouth is watering already.”

Olivia chuckled. “It’s not a typical English breakfast, is it?” she said. “More like a worker’s breakfast, those who have to wake up early. Well, if they can afford eggs and sausages. I hear the Americans make quite a meal out of breakfast, adding all sorts of things. What is wrong with just toast and cake?”

“I think the Americans are on the right path,” said Serena, handing Olivia her empty cup and sliding off the bed. “I think it’s important to start the day with a hearty meal rather than end it with a five-course meal.”

“We do not eat five-course meals,” Olivia pointed out.

“You know what I mean, Livvy,” said Serena, removing her nightdress. “We have large dinners, and as we age, it plays havoc with our digestion. I’m already twenty-six. A spinster by some standards. I need my digestion to continue working well, or I’ll look like I’m with child. Lady Francisca cannot have children, or she’ll lose her allure. I’m not ready for her to retire yet.”

Serena was four years away from retiring and buying a spacious cottage with abundant land in the countryside. She had amassed a tidy sum singing for the wealthy and influential but wasn’t ready yet to give up her double life. It had opened her to a life of glamour, opulence, and privilege. It was also risky, so she didn’t think she could maintain both lives indefinitely.

Stepping into the hot water, she sank into its scented depths with a deep sigh of contentment. She loved these moments and would have them every day, but there was no such luxury at her aunt and uncle’s home, where she had spent twenty-one years of her life. A small pitcher of cold water with the occasional hot water, if she could sneak it in, was what she grew up with. Her relatives enjoyed hot baths because she used to boil the water, haul it to their rooms, and fill the bath according to their liking. Serena had also done most of the cleaning and cooking once she was old enough to handle the stove. Her aunt had said it was her way of paying them for taking her in, clothing her, and feeding her.

Serena hadn’t thought it was then, but as she grew older, she realized that was not how family should treat each other. Her aunt was her mother’s sister. In some cultures, her aunt would be seen as a mother to her sister’s offspring. That had not been the situation for Serena.

“Do not take too long,” Olivia warned. “It’s already half seven. You still need to dress and eat.”

Serena nodded, sinking further into the water until her chin disappeared under its hot depths. She usually soaked until the water grew cold but had no such luxury that day. She didn’t mind, though, because she had many performances planned for the month ahead. Aunt Gertrude believed Serena was at Olivia’s house, but she was in her beautiful townhouse and had three servants tending it during her absence. Never would she have thought that all this would be hers one day, especially with her background. It proved that taking a risk had its benefits.

Serena smiled, trailing her hand through the water. Needless to say, she would take another risk in a heartbeat if it promised to yield wonderful advantages. The only risk she would never take was anything related to love. Serena didn’t want it, and no man would convince her otherwise—she was sure of it.

 

***

 

Serena was halfway to the shop an hour later when she recalled her dress sketches at her aunt’s home. She needed them because a few clients would come by the shop to discuss their dresses for the winter season. Christmas balls and parties would keep the gentry and aristocrats busy, which meant more business for the shop and Lady Francisca. Serena had to turn down requests to perform because she also wanted to enjoy the festive season. Her aunt probably wouldn’t like that she intended to have a few days to herself. Spending Christmas and beginning the new year with her best friend Olivia, and cousin, Benjamin, would be her present to herself. It would be their first Christmas in the townhouse, and she wanted to make it special.

She arrived at her aunt and uncle’s house sooner than expected, letting herself inside. They had two maids to cook, clean, and do the laundry since Serena was busy at the dress shop, but neither of the women was anywhere to be seen. They were likely waiting hand and foot on the family while they had breakfast, which suited Serena just fine. She just wanted to be in and out of the house with the least interaction with her relatives.

A pile of letters on a table just beyond the entrance caught her eye, drawing her closer. She never received any letters at her relatives’ home, but she felt compelled to sift through the pile on the table. Most were addressed to her aunt and uncle, as usual, and some to her cousin, Lettice. However, to her amazement, one had her name on it. Serena was tempted to open and read it but pocketed it instead and went to her tiny room. Fortunately, it was far from the room where they had most of their meals, so no one would see her. She quickly grabbed the sketches from her dresser drawer and left the house, turning the corner for her personal carriage. She couldn’t very well allow her driver to wait for her outside the house because her relatives would notice and question her about the beautiful carriage. It belonged to Lady Francisca, but she used it on rare occasions when she didn’t wish to wait to hire a carriage. Of course, it was risky of her, but Serena had grown to love most things that held some danger. The riskier the situation, the better.

“To the shop, Malcolm,” she told her driver.

Everyone under her employment had been sworn to silence in exchange for a healthy salary and a lot of free time since she wasn’t Lady Francisca all the time. It was the ideal job for them.

“Right-o, miss,” he replied, helping her into the carriage.

Serena took out the letter the moment she settled, unable to wait any longer. Her face paled as she read its contents, barely able to believe her eyes. Her mother, a woman she hadn’t seen or heard from in twenty-one years, was ill and couldn’t work. The sender—a woman called Emma—wanted her to look after her mother and take over her duties until she was well enough. Apparently, Emma had reached out to others, but no one was willing to help. Serena was her only hope.

“How dare she?” she cried, shaking in anger.

Her mother abandoned her, and now someone expected her to look after her and take over her duties at Aldebourne Manor as though the last twenty-one years had meant nothing. It meant everything to Serena. It was proof that she was nothing to her mother, but now that she needed her, she had become something. It was unfair. Serena could barely remember what her mother looked like or what her childhood at Aldebourne Manor was like. She had lived there until she was five, and from what little she recalled, she had been happy. The last blurry memory she recalled was feeling worried because the people around her were acting strange. Serena remembered wailing and tears, and soon after, her mother sent her away. Another memory followed: an older boy who used to visit and play with her daily. She couldn’t recall his features but sensed he had been important to her. Perhaps if she tried hard enough, she might remember more, but she didn’t want to. Her past was her past.

Stuffing the letter back into her pocket, she looked outside, realizing they had arrived at the shop. She thanked Malcolm and sent him back to the townhouse, soon opening the shop with her own set of keys. Serena wanted to push the letter and her past to the back of her mind, so she continued with Lady Fulton’s dress, knowing she would come later that afternoon to pick it up. She had to stop several times to deal with walkers-in, which she didn’t mind because it kept her mind off the letter. She occasionally heard it crinkle in her pocket, reminding her of its annoying content.

“I need you to help me, Serena!” her aunt cried as the front door slammed open.

She glanced at the clock, surprised to see it was afternoon. Her aunt should have arrived around ten, eleven at the most.

“Well,” she muttered, heading towards the front of the shop, “coming to work early is not necessary when you treat your niece like your own personal servant.”

Her aunt clutched several boxes while a young boy she had likely seen on the street and given a coin was coming with more.

“You went shopping, Aunt?” Serena said unnecessarily.

Her aunt looked up, her plump cheeks flushed with exertion. “I needed a few things for Lettice and me,” she said. “I got something for Thomas and Diane as well, but Lettice needs more if she is to look her best. She needs to find a husband soon. She’s already twenty-four! I cannot understand why no one has fallen for her yet. She’s beautiful and would make the perfect wife.”

Serena said nothing as she helped bring the pretty boxes further into the shop. Aunt Gertrude had always doted on her eldest daughter, puffing her up until the younger woman had a vastly inaccurate sense of self-worth. Frankly, Lettice was a sour-faced, ill-talking brute who liked to pretend she was a gentle, fragile, and graceful beauty.

“Are you done with Lady Fulton’s dress yet?” Aunt Gertrude asked.

“I completed it moments ago,” Serena told her. “I’ve started Mrs Daly’s dress, and Mrs Lewis has placed another order for the breakfast dresses.”

Breakfast dresses were Serena’s creation. They were versatile dresses that could be dressed up or down depending on the occasion, and even at their plainest, they were still beautiful and appreciative of the female form. They were popular with older married women who wanted to feel beautiful and comfortable while sitting at home without needing to change if visitors came to see them.

Her aunt’s eyes gleamed. “Another order? Wonderful! I’ve got my eye on a lovely mink coat that will be just perfect for winter. Never did I think that I would ever have my own fur coat! Oh, it’s wonderful to have money.”

Serena looked away and rolled her eyes. She bent down, hearing the letter crinkle in her pocket. Despite already knowing the story behind her abandonment, the need to hear it from her aunt was too strong to ignore.

“Aunt, why did you take me in all those years ago?” she asked. “Having an extra mouth to feed could not have been easy.”

The happy look on her aunt’s face fell. “What do you wish me to say?” she demanded. “If I have told you once, I have told you a hundred times before: your mother abandoned you when she could no longer take care of you. We had to stretch our non-existent money just to feed you. My children had to go without because of my sister’s inability to take care of her child. It was shameful, to say the least.”

Serena would have regretted mentioning the subject if not for what her aunt said next, which made her question everything.

“If not for the money your mother sent every month, we would not have been able to afford you,” her aunt continued.

Serena stilled. Her aunt had never mentioned anything about her mother sending money every month. If this was true, then … Serena’s heart squeezed at the implication. But she couldn’t think about it just yet, not until her aunt answered a few questions.

“Money?” she asked, her eyes narrowing into slits. “What money, Aunt Gertrude?”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           Chapter Two

Gerard was behaving oddly these days. Usually, it indicated that he was running out of money, prompting Adrian to keep a closer eye on the books. His stepbrother had many vices, all requiring money and lots of it. Gerard usually demanded money from his mother whenever he ran out, but there was only so much Violet could give. All of Adrian’s family members received a generous monthly allowance, but they still found reason to complain because they wanted an unlimited source. Between his half-siblings, stepbrother, and stepmother, the family would lose their wealth within ten years.

Sighing, he rubbed his eyes, feeling tired. He hadn’t slept well lately, but that wasn’t a surprise. Being the Duke of York was challenging, but that wasn’t the reason this time. Adrian had been experiencing night terrors on and off since he was twelve. It was the year his mother died, and he turned mute overnight. Fortunately, he could never recall his dreams when he awoke, so they couldn’t continue to plague him during the day. Sometimes, he wished he did so he could possibly find answers concerning his mother’s untimely death, but perhaps it was better to forget the details the moment he awoke. However, the emotions from his dreams tended to linger throughout the day, affecting his mood.

Closing the account book before him, Adrian pushed away from his leather-padded desk and poured himself a drink. His drinks cabinet boasted only the best from across the continent and America, not because he was a great drinker but because he simply enjoyed collecting things. Paintings, musical instruments, pocket watches, jewellery, handkerchiefs—the more unique, the better. He also had one of the best collections of purebreds in his stables, with many people wishing to breed his females or hire his stallions to breed with their females. Adrian consistently refused both requests—his horses were his alone, his pride and joy. He dedicated much of his time to the noble creatures, enjoying that he didn’t need to speak to communicate with them. Touch was so much more effective than words would ever be.

“Adrian,” said Charles, his half-brother, as he walked into the room without knocking. “I need to talk to you about something important.”

Adrian lifted an eyebrow in question. Charles knew better than to barge into his study without some warning. Not moving from where he stood with his drink, he sipped the smooth amber liquid, inwardly praising the cognac. It had been one of his best buys from an American merchant. The man had even tried to sell off his sister to bring English aristocracy into his commoner family, but Adrian hadn’t been keen. The woman had been lovely, but he wasn’t interested.

Charles fell into a chair, propping a leg on the armrest as though he owned the room. Adrian continued to watch him, calmly sipping his beverage. He may be unable to talk, but his silences were just as effective when utilized properly.

“Very well, I apologize for walking in without asking,” said Charles, rolling his eyes with a sigh.

Adrian nodded, took his seat, and pulled out a journal and pencil. Using a pen wasn’t practical because he needed something that didn’t require carrying an inkpot around.

What do you wish to talk about? he wrote.

“As you know, I turned sixteen last week,” Charles began, pushing his dark brown hair away from his forehead.

They looked similar, but Charles had gray eyes like his mother and half-brother, Gerard. Only Annabelle, Adrian’s twelve-year-old half-sister, had light blue eyes like him.

Yes, what of it? he wrote.

Adrian already had a good grasp of what his brother wanted. It always came to the same thing: money. His family’s life revolved around money.

“I expected you to increase my monthly amount,” said Charles, removing his leg from the armrest and sitting forward. “I’m still getting the same amount. Why? Surely being older dictates I need more money?”

Adrian smiled slightly, inwardly shaking his head. Charles received a generous amount, but he burned through it quickly. It didn’t matter how much money he received; Charles found ways to spend it. The more Adrian gave, the more they wanted. It was a never-ending cycle.

Adrian bent his head, briefly writing his response. You’ll expect even more next year if I give you more now. I give you enough to cover your lifestyle. It is your problem if you choose to spend it frivolously.

Charles frowned as he read the response. “But that isn’t fair!”

Adrian anticipated his brother’s reply and was already writing his response. Your every need is paid for, Charles. The money you receive is for all your wants, which you keep unnecessarily adding to. You should be wiser with your money.

His brother narrowed his eyes, lifting his head to reveal his indignant expression. “I have a reputation to maintain,” Charles cried. “Why can you not understand that? Just because you’re mute and never wish to be sociable does not mean you should punish the rest of us.”

Adrian dropped his pencil and sat back in his seat. Charles was correct—he was mute and preferred to be alone for good reason. The more people around him, the more difficult it was to communicate. It was hard enough for his family and servants to understand basic hand gestures, so he couldn’t expect it from outsiders. It would also be overwhelming to respond to everyone by writing his responses. It was easier to stay away from such situations. However, no matter how right Charles was, the venom dripping from his tongue turned that truth into an insult.  

Kindly take yourself out of my study, he wrote. I will not have you disrespect me in my house. You forget yourself.

Charles’s cheeks turned bright pink. “Why must you always be so unreasonable?” he demanded.

Adrian narrowed his eyes, slowly writing his reply. One more word and I’ll reduce your money. Leave.

His brother’s pinkness travelled to his ears and neck as his mouth gaped like a fish on land. Adrian raised an eyebrow, daring his half-brother to say another word. After a moment, Charles stood up, turned on his heel, and marched out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind him.

Sighing, Adrian resumed drinking. He didn’t usually have strong drinks so early in the day, but he found they helped calm his mind. He wasn’t dependent on alcohol and never drank to excess, but he had to admit it had its uses.  

“Adrian!” his sister called, appearing in the doorway. She tilted her head to the side and smiled sweetly. “May I come in?”

Adrian frowned slightly. Annabelle was never this sweet without a reason. She usually ignored him because she found his muteness uncomfortable and embarrassing, especially when she had her friends at the house. It was hurtful that his own sister, a little girl he had known since her birth and doted on, would grow up to prefer to be away from him. Family was supposed to accept each other. He didn’t expect much from his stepmother and stepbrother, but Charles and Annabelle were his siblings by blood. He had helped raise them, only for them to turn on him once they could no longer accept his muteness.

“Adrian?” Annabelle pressed, her impatience starting to show through her smile.

Adrian gestured for her to come in, picking up his pencil and bringing his journal closer to him.

You look lovely today, he wrote. Is that a new dress?

His siblings may not love him unconditionally, but he would never stop his affection for them. Perhaps he was a glutton for punishment.

“It is,” she said, doing a little twirl. “I asked Mama for a pink dress with embroidered flowers. The modiste took a while because the flowers are so intricate, but I’m glad it turned out so well. Mama says pink is my colour, so she’s thinking about having a white and pink dress for my first Season. However, she said my first dress for my introduction to the queen should be white, but I disagree with Mama. I wish to stand out, not blend in with the other girls.”

Adrian widened his eyes. His sister was only twelve. They shouldn’t be talking about her first Season, not when she had at least another four or five years before that moment in her life. Annabelle needed to live her life as a child for as long as possible because being an adult wasn’t as wonderful as many people bragged. Adrian blamed his stepmother, Violet, for trying to make his sister grow up too quickly. Violet was hell-bound on making powerful connections through her children, controlling who they were friends with, and ensuring they were as social as their ages allowed. Charles had a little more freedom, but Annabelle would only have freer rein in society after her introduction. Until then, it was all tea parties, picnics, and visiting friends.

Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Anna, he wrote. You have a few more years before then.

“Yes, but I have to plan in advance!” his sister exclaimed. “People can be rather brutal and competitive. Tessa has been planning her first Season since she was ten!”

Adrian baulked at the thought. That is disturbing, he wrote. When are you allowed to be little girls if all you’re thinking about is being a young woman? There is a time for everything.

Annabelle rolled her eyes. “Oh, Adrian, you’ll never understand,” she said. “You keep yourself locked in your study or outside with those filthy horses. Worse yet, you personally sully your hands with the poor, all in the name of charity. What do you know about keeping up with appearances?”

This was not his sister talking. It sounded a lot like his stepmother and stepbrother. A twelve-year-old didn’t have the capacity to think of these things unless they had heard it from somewhere.

I know more than you ever will, but I choose to stay away, he wrote. You’ll realize eventually that society is your worst enemy.

“Oh, you’re too dramatic,” Annabelle replied. “Gerard always says that about you. It’s probably why you cannot find someone to marry.”

Adrian raised his eyebrows. This disrespect was escalating. He needed to speak with his stepbrother and stepmother about it. If they insisted on putting bad ideas in Annabelle’s head, he would remove them from the house. Although his half-siblings’ mother was still alive, he had been placed as their guardian and had greater legal sway over their lives. They would stay with him while Violet and Gerard moved to another estate. People might criticize him for it, but he was willing to do it if it meant saving his siblings from the world his stepmother and Gerard loved so much.

What have I said about saying inappropriate things? he wrote. If you cannot watch what you say, I suggest you leave my study. I will not accept your disrespect.

Annabelle paled slightly, lowering her head. “I’m sorry, Adrian,” she said, sounding more like herself.

He tapped his desk, prompting her to look up. Instead of writing, he nodded and smiled, showing she was forgiven. Annabelle immediately perked up, her pale blue eyes bright. She had never been one to remain sad or angry for long, but she was slowly changing. Adrian was worried that one day he’d wake up and his cheerful and sweet sister would be no more. Annabelle was undoubtedly spoiled because of his stepmother and late father, but she had managed to keep her sunny disposition until now. It was slowly fading, though, and would eventually be replaced by what his stepmother considered suitable.

“Mama said I could host a picnic party for my friends this week,” Annabelle began. “I thought the perfect thing would be to give them presents.”

Adrian nodded, already seeing where this was going. His sister never told him her plans unless she needed money to complete them. Unfortunately, he had already given her pin money for the month and would not be increasing it. He was quite confident that no other twelve-year-old received as much pin money as she did.

“It seems I do not have enough money to buy gifts for everyone,” she continued. “I have seven friends coming and only enough for three. Do you think you could give me extra?”

Adrian scribbled a quick reply. Just have three friends for your picnic. Intimate parties are better, anyway.

Two frown lines appeared between his sister’s eyebrows. “But I have already invited them.”

Then don’t give them gifts. A picnic is good enough.

“I promised them something special, Adrian,” she complained. “I cannot just have a picnic.”

It seems you promised them too much, Annabelle. This will be your reminder that you shouldn’t promise anything you cannot fulfill.

Annabelle pouted after reading his words. “You could just give me the money,” she said. “You have so much of it. Papa would have given me anything I wanted.”

This was precisely why she was so terribly spoiled and couldn’t take responsibility for her actions.

You have one other option, he wrote. Have your picnic next week when you have more pin money.

Annabelle’s lower lip trembled. “Why are you so mean to me?”

Adrian sighed, running his hands through his hair. It was getting a little too long and touching the nape of his neck. He preferred his straight brown hair, short and out of the way. One of his horses once took a liking to his hair when it was shoulder length and took a chunk out of it. Since then, he had kept it short for fear of a repeat.

You need to take more responsibility for the way you spend your money, he wrote. I have told you this before. You lack nothing, so that money is to cover all the extras you wish to purchase. Your wants should never outweigh what you can afford.

Annabelle barely read his words before she stood up and started yelling about how unfair he was, that he was a terrible brother, and that he didn’t understand how important it was to be liked by her friends. Adrian wanted to point out that she clearly didn’t know the definition of a friend, but he merely sat back and crossed his arms. He wasn’t going to give in. To give in once was asking for trouble because she would demand the same at every turn.

---

“A Maid for the Mute Duke” is an Amazon Best-Selling novel, check it out here!

Seamstress by day, songstress by night- Serena Yelverton thrives in the duality of her intriguing life. However, her world takes an unexpected turn when her long-lost mother falls ill, prompting Serena to confront the unanswered questions of her past. As she unravels the truth behind her mother’s departure and uncovers her own family’s deceit, Serena finds herself drawn to Aldebourne Manor and its enigmatic master, Adrian, Duke of York.

She now must decide between running away to protect her world or staying by Adrian and risking the exposure of her carefully constructed life…

Adrian Aldebourne leads a solitary existence as the mute Duke of York, haunted by the tragic loss of his mother and the silence that followed. Yet, Serena’s presence sparks a flicker of hope in his secluded world. As they navigate the labyrinth of their forbidden attraction, Adrian is determined to defy convention and claim a future with Serena.

Will Adrian break free from the chains of his past to seize a chance at love?

Bound by fate, Serena and Adrian embark on a journey of love fraught with challenges. Yet, in each other’s arms, they find a refuge from the storm, realizing that their love is worth fighting for. Can Serena and Adrian overcome the obstacles and forge a path towards a future together, or will the secrets of their pasts prove too threatening to conquer?

“A Maid for the Mute Duke” is a historical romance novel of approximately 80,000 words. No cheating, no cliffhangers, and a guaranteed happily ever after.

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