The Last Duke (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

by Deborah Wilson

  “What is your question?” Valiant had managed to find her voice, but now her heart raced. She did not like the coolness in John Goody’s eyes. He looked capable of anything.

  And she decided that after this moment she would never be alone with this man again.

  “There was an altercation,” Mr. Goody said. “What was it about?”

  Valiant took a deep breath. “I don’t know. It happened at a gentlemen's club. You should ask a gentleman.”

  “I’ve no gentlemen in my acquaintance,” he said.

  Valiant bit back the need to point out that Mr. Goody had no friends because he was not a friendly man. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  Mr. Goody stared at her and then shook his head. “No, that was all… Unless you know of any connection to the other men?”

  “Anthony is innocent.”

  “I know the duke is innocent,” Mr. Goody said. “I only wish to know why he’d been blamed to begin with.”

  “It’s a woman’s rag.” She threw her hands up helplessly. “You said it yourself. They are silly. It is why those stories were never in the actual papers. Anything else?” Her voice held desperation now.

  “No.” He took a step back. “I know the way to the foyer. Have a good day, my lady.” He bowed and left.

  Valiant immediately hunted down a footman to see that Mr. Goody had actually departed. Only then did she calm.

  She wondered at his questions but couldn’t think of a reason he’d have had to ask them. Perhaps, he was just curious about the gossip. Why wouldn’t he be, especially when it centered around himself?

  She dismissed him from her mind and went to join Everly and Lady Goody in the drawing room.

  She was not at all surprised to find Everly instruction the woman on one vital lesson: Self-respect.

  A lady was nothing without it. They would crumble under the weight of cruel men if they so much as showed a hint of weakness.

  Only with those who found themselves worthy, those who would fall on a sword—or take a bullet—for those they loved, did a lady soften.

  She couldn't help but think about Anthony then and knew within her heart he’d do anything for her.

  She’d had another lesson yesterday.

  He’d come to call and strangely, her family had vanished, leaving them alone.

  Anthony had taken advantage of the privacy.

  She’d allowed him to pet her leg while they’d spoken. He’s shared stories about his childhood and she’d allowed his touch, knowing that he needed a physical connection with her as he’s spoken.

  She’d run her hands through his hair, comforting him.

  Then he’d declared himself exhausted with the topic and used his mouth for other things. Like kisses.

  She’d been all too happy to receive his lips. And his hands.

  When he’d finally left, she’d found her body so coiled that she’d almost gone to him and demanded he set her free from all the pain and her fear.

  With every kiss, she felt her resolve falling, but she was far too in tune with the man to let him walk away from her.

  Still, she had no clue how much more she could bear.

  Maybe she should….

  No. How many times did she have to remind herself of the past? She’d lived with Noah for years and nothing had changed in all that time.

  Nothing would change now.

  Eventually, Anthony would grow weary with her and move on. Valiant knew it to be so.

  But she had decided to indulge in a fantasy that would never be.

  But then Asher came into the room and shattered it.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 3

  “A lady is here to see you.”

  “Not now,” Anthony said to his butler without taking his gaze off the man who sat across from him on the other side of the table. With a precision he’d perfected over the years, Anthony flipped a sheathless blade in his hand, catching it by the handle without flaw every time.

  Lord Rosamund’s gaze followed the blade’s lift, flinching with its every descent. His face had gone a ghastly gray.

  Valiant came in a second later. “Stop this at once.”

  Anthony caught the blade one last time and turned to her. “Very well.”

  “No.” Lord Rosamund stood.

  “Sit,” Anthony commanded.

  He obeyed. Then he began to plead with both him and Valiant, “I shall take my punishment.”

  Valiant narrowed her eyes as she came farther into the room. “What is going on? What slight has he made now to gain your ire?”

  Anthony turned to Rosamund. “Perhaps, you would like to tell the lady what you said?” Just the memory had Anthony tightening his hold on the blade.

  Rosamund swallowed. “I… might have mentioned your name again at the club this afternoon.”

  That drew Valiant up. “W-what did you say?”

  “Doesn’t matter what he said.” Anthony stood. “I told him to never speak your name again. He failed on that measure. He shall pay with his blood.”

  Valiant turned to him. “Must it always be blood with you? I confess, it does not help your plea of innocence.”

  He didn’t care about that. “You think I’m innocent. It is all that matters to me anymore.”

  “I believe you to be innocent as well,” Rosamund added with a slight grin as he spread his hands on the table. He was likely hoping it would return him to Anthony’s good graces.

  It wouldn’t.

  Anthony spoke to Valiant. “I called him to a duel. He pled forgiveness. I told him it would cost him this time. My earlier mercy did nothing to teach him a lesson. This time, he will not walk away so easily.”

  Valiant frowned and then turned to Rosamund. “What did you say?”

  Rosamund lowered his head. “I called you a whore.”

  Anthony didn’t think.

  There was a thump as the blade went through the surface of the wooden desk.

  The shriek that broke from Rosamund’s lips filled the room.

  Anthony moved to block Valiant’s eyes from what he had done.

  “Did you stab him?” Her eyes went wide. Her words barely carried over the sound of Rosamund’s screams.” She tried to skirt around Anthony, but he used a trained hand and moved her to the door.

  He closed the door behind him once they were beyond it and then moved to kiss her.

  She turned away and glared at him. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  “I’ll not hear you called a whore again.” He grabbed her chin. “Never again.”

  She broke his hold. “That was barbaric.”

  He’d warned her that part of his father still lived within him. He didn’t hurt the weak, but he would not allow a man of equal means and intellect to go about insulting the woman he loved. “Is it the way I handle things.”

  “Just as you handled Benedict?” she asked.

  That memory from long ago came back to hit him in the gut and nearly made him stumble back. Nearly eight years had passed since the night Anthony had stabbed his best friend. Yet to hear it from her lips, it may as well have just happened yesterday. “I wasn’t thinking clearly when that took place.”

  “Yet, you claim to be doing so now?” Fear filled her gaze.

  “You’ll never understand what took place that night,” he said, coming to himself. “But Benedict deserved it.”

  “Did he?” Valiant didn’t seem to believe him.

  “I’ve sworn to Benedict that I would never tell anyone what drove me to stab him. That is a vow I’ll not even break for you.” For us, he wanted to say. He’d not betray their friendship again.

  Valiant narrowed her gaze and then pulled in a breath. “Well, I do know some of Benedict’s past, thanks to my friendship with his sister. I know he didn’t always do the right thing where Beatrix was concerned.” She studied him for a moment and said, “Whatever Benedict did, I suppose it was quite terrible?”

  “Abominable,” Anthony said.
>
  She crossed her arms and held herself.

  “You have no reason to fear me.” He moved closer and was glad when she didn’t retreat. “I’ll never hurt you.”

  He cupped her chin again and leaned forward.

  Her gaze still held caution, but she didn’t move.

  Rosamund took that moment to start crying again. “Your Grace. Please. I c-can’t remove the blade.”

  Anthony rolled his eyes. “Stay here,” he told Valiant and departed.

  * * *

  Valiant remained in the hallway and heard the sharp intake of Rosamund’s breath and then some murmuring between the men. Anthony’s voice was a deep and haunting thing, as though he called darkness into his words.

  Rosamund, on the other hand, was steeped in weeping. He stepped out, holding his hand that seemed to have been wrapped with a cloth. A few red stains marred the white binding.

  It took everything in Valiant not to run. Another lady, one who’d not grown up with three brothers, would have fainted at the sight of the blood. It didn’t truly bother Valiant. All of Rosamund’s fingers were accounted for, after all.

  Lord Rosamund bowed his head to Valiant. “Bless you, my lady. For I know that it is by your benevolence that I’ve walked away with nothing more than an injured hand this day. Please, forgive me.”

  Valiant touched his arm and waited for his eyes to meet hers before she said, “Truly, I fear for your life. You must cease this penchant for creating gossip. I have no power over Lord Cartelle’s actions.”

  Rosamund didn’t seem convinced but said nothing more as he rushed away.

  A footman waited down the hall to escort him.

  Anthony came out.

  When Valiant tried to move into the office, Anthony stopped her.

  “You don’t want to go in there until a maid has cleaned up the blood.”

  Her stomach did roll then. “You can’t live this way anymore.”

  He placed a hand on her back and led her toward the drawing room that had glass doors that led out to a balcony.

  She pulled in a calming breath once they were outside. It settled her stomach at once.

  He placed his hands on the railing and looked out. Hyde Park rested in the distance with the dark waters of the Serpentine in sight. “I’ve not been myself as of late.” He placed his elbows on the rail and ran his fingers through his hair before looking back at her. “I admit, you’ve somewhat tamed me, but I don’t allow slights to go unchallenged. Not anymore.”

  Valiant kept her distance from the rail, because she didn’t wish for anyone from the road below to see her here. Yet the distance also kept her from Anthony. She wanted to go where he was, comfort him with her arms, but her feet remained in place. “Does this have to do with your father?”

  “His death was an accident,” he said. “But perhaps. He was the first to slight me… over and over again.”

  She understood. But… “The blade. The dueling. Do you not realize that you put yourself in danger every time? What if Rosamund seeks revenge?”

  Anthony had the audacity to grin. “I welcome the challenge.”

  Her heart constricted. “You risk your death.”

  He shrugged and braced his hands on the rail behind him. “I’ve everything in place to ensure my mother lives out the rest of her life in bliss. She’ll likely forget I’m gone the moment she hears the news.”

  What he meant was that there would be no one to mourn him.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  3 4

  Valiant wanted to tell Anthony how foolish he was being. “There are still others who care for you.”

  He shrugged again. “Benedict would be better off without me. I can’t imagine Beatrix would lose a moment of sleep.”

  She stepped forward. “If you think that about Beatrix then you have no idea how much she cares for you.”

  Anthony narrowed his gaze as if he didn’t believe her, but then he looked away. “Everyone dies eventually.”

  She took the remaining steps toward him and buried her face in his chest. “What has brought this on?” Had he always thought this way? Valiant didn’t understand the feeling. She’d always been surrounded by those who cherished her. She’d always had a place in someone’s heart, including Noah’s.

  She wrapped her arms about him. “Do you wish to die?”

  “No.” His arms circled her. “How could I when I’m having so much fun being alive?”

  She tilted her head up toward him and found him to be smiling down at her.

  He touched her nose. “I’d fight the devil himself in order to come back to you, Snow.”

  She smiled and squeezed him tighter. “I’m glad to hear it, because I would miss you terribly.” More than she’d missed Noah.

  He caressed her cheek. “I’ve done very little good in life, Valiant. I’m not afraid to die in honor.”

  She pulled away from him then and beat her fist against his chest. “Don’t be foolish. You’ve done wonderful things. You found Mr. Goody.”

  He lifted a brow. “A man who didn’t wish to be found.”

  “But you’ve made his mother so happy,” she countered.

  He ran his fingers down her chin. “And how does he treat his mother upon his return?” Anger was a living thing that passed through his eyes, making them glitter with dark intent. “Everyone thought I’d murdered him. I’m inclined to make the rumors true.”

  Valiant understood the feeling. She shivered as she recalled her conversation with Goody that very afternoon. “No. Stay away from him. There’s something dark about him.” And it was vitally different than the darkness she glimpsed within Anthony.

  He lifted her face to his. “Have you spoken to him recently? Did he approach you?”

  Valiant closed her mouth and tried to think of what she could say that would not incite him further.

  “Valiant, if you don’t tell me, I will think the worst, and don’t think I’ll challenge him. I will end him right where he stands,” Anthony warned. “Did Mr. Goody approach you?”

  “Yes. He and his mother came by today. He wanted his mama to gain some refinement before the party in your honor. Also, he had questions about you.” She licked her lips.

  His grip was firm on her chin. “What questions?”

  “About your connection to the missing lords,” she said. “He couldn’t understand why you’d been blamed for his or anyone else’s disappearance.” She decided to not mention any other questions he’d had about Denhallow or the confidence he’d had when he’d declared Anthony’s innocence.

  Slowly, he retracted his hand from her face. His own visage calmed. “I’ll speak to him.”

  “Really, Anthony. Let us not make much ado—”

  “He is not to go near you,” he said. “He is not to get close enough to breathe the same air as you. I will make that clear.” He gave her a soft smile that did not settle her nerves at all.

  “Do not incite this man to anger, Anthony,” she whispered.

  The smile fell away. “Why do you fear him?” There was a flash in his gaze. “Did he touch you?”

  Valiant pulled away from him. “I don’t want you to approach him.”

  Anthony’s hand went down to her arm, and it was only then that Valiant realized she was holding herself at the very place that Mr. Goody had grabbed her.

  Anthony tilted her head up and kissed her forehead. “Go home, Valiant. I’ll speak with you later.”

  “No, Anthony,” she said as he started back inside the house. She followed him to the foyer where his butler handed him his hat. “You mustn’t do this.”

  He looked at her. “The more you protest, the angrier I become.”

  That made Valiant close her mouth. Then she did the only thing she could think to do to calm him.

  She walked over to him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him down.

  He’d just had enough time to snatch the hat off his head and snake his arm around her waist before their mouths crashed togeth
er.

  Valiant didn’t even get the chance to take control. Anthony kissed her with an expertise that made her forget why she’d started it to begin with.

  Then she remembered. Breaking the connection in order to breathe, she moved her lips to his ear and said, “Don’t go.”

  He chuckled and leaned away. “Wicked woman.” His hand slapped her bottom.

  She gasped.

  Never had a man done such a thing to her. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it, but her body flooded with heat.

  He slipped from her hold and started toward the door again. “I shall return. You may wait here for me if you wish.” Then with that, he was gone.

  * * *

  Valiant’s kiss hadn’t stopped Anthony from his mission, though he did admit that he had cooled some of his anger.

  Mr. Goody would not be calling his second today— not that anyone would stand by the man’s side anyway.

  Instead, Anthony would simply speak to the man and make it clear that he was not to approach Valiant again. He wanted to ban the man from going to the party but knew Asher wanted his presence. Mr. Goody would serve as proof that Anthony was innocent, thus restoring his reputation enough that he could truly court his sister.

  Anthony had spoken to the brothers about it when he’d informed them of his intentions toward Valiant on the same evening he’d returned from Stevenage.

  There was still much to do where looking for the other lords was concerned, but with Mr. Goody’s return to London, the other members of the ton were further inclined to think that the lords were not missing. They’d simply given up on society and decided to not return.

  Anthony didn’t think it true for every man, but then again, those who were gone would hardly be missed.

  Except for Denhallow. Anthony would be surprised that the man had friends, but then again, it was a miracle Anthony had friends himself.

  It was an even greater miracle that Valiant would offer her mouth up to his.