Duke of Decadence

Home > Romance > Duke of Decadence > Page 8
Duke of Decadence Page 8

by Tammy Andresen


  And then, he leaned close. So close that she could feel the heat of him, smell the pine scent of his cologne. Fear pulsed through her. Where was Bash?

  Automatically, she pulled the cards she held in her hands tighter to her chest, but his gaze didn’t cast down. Instead, he leaned closer still, brushing her arm. His touch made her take a half step back.

  What was happening?

  Then just like that, he leaned away again.

  Blood rushed in her ears and the cards nearly fell from her hand. She couldn’t do this. Her concentration was shot.

  He stared at her, his eyes narrowed and then he looked down at her trousers and back up to her eyes.

  She gazed about for an escape just as Bash entered the room, giving her a long stare. The mystery man at her table diverted his unceasing attention on her, shifting his knowing gaze to Bash.

  Now her heart beat wildly in her chest. What did this man understand that he now assessed Bash? Was this man a threat to them? Did he recognize her?

  Raising her hand, she signaled Bash to join her.

  His brow furrowed. She understood why he looked confused. She’d never once asked for his assistance. But she needed it now.

  As he joined her at her table, she leaned in and whispered, “I’m not feeling well. I need to go home.” She already knew what his response would be.

  He didn’t disappoint.

  With a stiff nod, he replied, “Of course.” Then he signaled for another dealer to take her place.

  She walked away, willing herself not to look back and see if the mystery man watched her. Nor did she look back at Bash to beg for reassurance.

  Perhaps he’d been right, and the future plans needed to happen now. That man at her table made her feel as though he knew her secrets. She was fine with being a spinster. She understood working at the club, she’d give up her future. But if all of society actually found out she’d been dealing cards at a gaming hell…

  She’d known it was a possibility. But as Isabella faced the reality…

  A shiver ran down her spine.

  Bash watched the other man as he observed Isabella.

  Jealousy like a hot knife sliced through him. He didn’t recognize the dark-haired fellow, had never seen him here before, but the man’s gaze never wavered as Isabella left the room.

  For a split-second Bash didn’t know what to do. Did he go after Isabella or deal with the man in front of him? He turned to the guard. “Fetch Bill,” their nickname for Isabella in the club, “and have him wait for me in the red room.”

  The guard gave a single nod and then started after her, effortlessly parting the crowd to reach her side.

  Once Bash saw the man next to her, he shifted his attention back to the gambler, who observed Bash with an astute gaze.

  Bash crossed his arms over his chest, his chest filling with air. “You are?”

  “A friend.” the man smiled and then gave a wink as he stood.

  “Only dandies wink at other men,” Bash growled, making to step around the table. He wanted some answers and he wanted them quickly.

  But the other man put his hand up. “Relax, Duke of Decadence.” The low gravel of the other man’s voice struck a familiar chord. “I come in peace.”

  “Why did you come at all?” he asked.

  “If you check…Bill’s pocket, you’ll have your answer.” Then the other man turned and started for the door.

  Her pocket?

  Bash took two steps toward the door himself, following the gambler. Another man stepped up to the gambler’s side, a Scot by the tartan waistcoat he wore. He tried to catch them through the thick crowd as he waved for a guard to help him.

  He didn’t dare fire a weapon or sound the alarm. As far as he knew, the man hadn’t actually done anything wrong. Staring at Isabella, much as Bash hated to admit it, was not actually an offense. But he wanted more information, so shoving a man to the side, he tried to catch up to the two as they slid out the door.

  Bash paused…irritation rippling along his skin. Did he chase two men into the night? Or stay here and see Isabella home?

  Spinning on heel, he pointed to the guard. “Follow them,” he called out then he started toward the back room.

  What Bash needed was to know what he was dealing with. Who was the man and what had he done, if anything, to spook Isabella? He knew she was well physically. At least nothing had been broken. Had the man threatened her?

  Turning down the hall to the red room, he tossed open the door without even a nod to the guard who waited just outside. She sat at the table with a pouch in her hand.

  “What the bloody hell is that?” he asked, skidding to a stop.

  Her gaze raised to his, her eyes shimmering with tears. “It’s coins. Gold.”

  He took the sack from her hand, working open the string as he looked inside.

  “How did I not feel the weight of it? I mean he leaned close but…”

  “There’s a note,” he said as he pushed several coins aside.

  Isabella rose from her chair and came to stand close to him to see the note too. Her body brushed his, her warmth seeping through his shirt. Carefully, he unfolded the scrap of paper.

  * * *

  For you and your sisters. There will be more now that I know I can find you at the club.

  * * *

  Isabella gasped next to him as she plucked the note from his hand. “Who is he?”

  “I don’t know,” he answered as he once again tried to place the sound of the other man’s voice. “But I don’t like this one bit. Why would he give you money? What does he want? Who does he know? How dare he…”

  But Isabella gasped, interrupting Bash’s litany of questions. “My father has always had a secret partner. You don’t think that was him, do you? If he found out I had a secret identity perhaps he was finally able to help us. Do you think he knows anything about my father?”

  “Isabella.” He wrapped an arm around her. He hated that this man had gone anywhere near her. Somehow, he liked it even less that he was able to give Isabella more hope than Bash had managed. “You don’t know that he’s your father’s partner.”

  She looked up at him, her hand coming to his chest. “Who else could he be?”

  Bash didn’t know, but he damned well was going to find out. Had he chosen wrong? Mayhap he should have followed the two men outside.

  A knock sounded at the door and Isabella stepped away.

  “Yes,” he barked.

  The other guard stepped into the room. “Sorry sir, but they got away.”

  “They got away?”

  “Had a carriage waiting just outside.”

  “We don’t allow carriages to park just outside,” Bash bit out. Who exactly was this man?

  “True, sir. The driver must have been cutting circles.”

  Bash could feel his temper flaring again. Isabella might be in danger and there wasn’t a damned thing he’d done right tonight to stop it.

  But he knew exactly how to proceed.

  “We’re taking you home,” he said over his shoulder. “Have my carriage brought around back.” Then he pointed at the guard. “You’ll give me a full account as soon as I’m back.”

  Bash was going to get to the bottom of this.

  But first, he was going to tuck Isabella back in her house where she was going to stay. No more club. No more dressing as a man and no more mystery men slipping money into her pocket.

  When he did find out who that fellow was, he was going to bash in all his teeth.

  He didn’t care how much like his father that made him. He’d get the satisfaction of watching that man bleed.

  Chapter Twelve

  Bash sat silently across the carriage looking out the window. Isabella didn’t even care that he ignored her, it felt so good to have him here.

  She hated the lonely rides home. “Thank you for escorting me.”

  “You’re welcome,” he answered automatically, his voice even and monotonous as though he were lo
st in thought.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Our visitor this evening. Your donor.” Bash leaned forward. “Don’t spend a single coin until we know who he is and what he wants.”

  “All right,” she said, feeling the weight of it in her pocket. “If you think it’s best.”

  “I do.” He leaned forward then. “If you need funds just ask. I’ll take care of—”

  “Bash,” she answered softly. “We don’t.” She slid to the edge of the seat so that their knees touched. “You’ve outfitted us, provided dowries, gotten us invitations. Did I tell you Emily has a suitor? Already. We don’t need anything else. You’ve already done too much.” She was tempted to ask more about his motives. Why had he been so generous? But right now, she didn’t want to risk his answer. She just wanted to be near him. Tonight had unsettled her and having him here…

  “And you’ve earned a fortune already. I don’t want to see you indebted to anyone else. Do you understand me? I don’t trust any man not to put a price on his gift.”

  She nodded. “I understand. I won’t spend any of it.”

  “Tuck it away for yourself while we figure out your plans—”

  “But he said it was for my sisters too. How do you think he knows I have sisters if he isn’t my father’s partner?”

  “He’s been following you.”

  That made alarm ring through her. Was she in danger? Were her sisters? “Bash?” she whispered, fear tightening her voice. “Can I sit with you?”

  In answer, he slid off his seat and onto hers. He slipped his arm about her shoulders and pulled her close. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” he said as he rubbed his cheek on the top of her head.

  She didn’t answer, just snuggled nearer. Because she knew he wouldn’t. Her eyes fluttered closed. He was warm and strong, and she sighed as she melted into him.

  Silence fell again but this time, it didn’t bother her. In fact, it was comforting and as her eyes closed, she found herself drifting in that place between being awake and asleep.

  She snaked her arms about his waist and held him close, wanting to stay here all night. Wanting to stay forever.

  Her eyes blinked open and she tipped her head back to look up at his face.

  The lines were softer in the dark as he held her close. Her breath caught in her chest because emotion had filled her heart.

  She loved him.

  How could she not?

  He protected her, made her body heat with desire. He…he was a duke while she was just a merchant’s daughter. Not even near good enough to be his mistress.

  That made her sigh again. It didn’t change the way she felt, of course. Her heart beat wildly in her chest to realize she’d fallen in love. But those feelings could never be acknowledged out loud. They’d go unanswered.

  “Why are you sighing like that?”

  What else could she do? In that moment, she lied. A rarity that sat on her tongue, tasting like acid. “I hate the idea of going back to the club.”

  “You’re not.”

  “But...” She crinkled her brow. “My sisters are not yet engaged.” She agreed with him, of course. Especially after tonight, she never wanted to go back. “And besides. How will we figure out who that man was if I don’t return?”

  Bash grimaced down at her. “I’ll figure it out. Let me worry about that.”

  “Why?” The single word popped out of her mouth before she could hold it back. “Why should you make one more of my problems your problem if I am not even dealing at the club?” She didn’t add that it made her nervous to be indebted to him in such a way. He could leave at any time and then where would she be?

  His jaw tightened. He stared at her, but no words came from his mouth.

  She shook her head. “I have to go back, Bash. This whole arrangement hinges upon me dealing. The bargain falls apart if I don’t.” She didn’t want it to be true and she knew that he didn’t either.

  But it was.

  They had no relationship beyond an exchange of favors. Clearly defined. No room for feelings.

  The carriage drew up to the alley by her house. She began to slip off the seat. But his arm tightened. “I’m walking you inside.”

  She gave a stiff nod. He’d never been to her home before.

  He pushed off the seat and snapped open the door, climbing down so that he could hand her out. Then, like he’d done it every day, he tucked her hand in his and entered into her kitchen.

  They found the family in the first-floor sitting room.

  Bash knew they’d been left on their own. But even he hadn’t considered that they could no longer afford staff. Ridiculous, that it hadn’t occurred to him sooner. They weren’t dressed for the evening. They weren’t playing cards or practicing their pianoforte. They were polishing the family’s silver.

  Bash frowned. Were they going to sell it?

  Damn but he hated the way his stomach rolled at the idea. These women had become instant sensations at the party they’d attended. He was certain they’d had callers the next day. How had they served tea to their guests? Who had attended the door?

  His eyes closed for a second.

  “You’ve gone quiet again,” Isabella said next to him.

  He placed a hand over hers. The one she had tucked in his arm.

  Isabella stripped him of his defenses, and he hated that. But she also plucked at some of the better parts of him. The one that wanted to protect and nurture. He still worried about what he’d become if he surrendered to his feelings for her. But he was also beginning to wonder what it meant if he didn’t.

  He’d hate himself just the same if he allowed her and her family to continue on like this. But how much more could he do without actually some sort of formal arrangement?

  The girls all looked up at the sound of his voice.

  He cleared his throat. “Did you ladies have many callers after last night?”

  “Oh yes.” Emily smiled at him, her look excited and open. Had Isabella mentioned that she already had a serious suitor? “Thank you again for all your help.”

  Abigail nodded. “We’re hopeful at least one of us will get an offer very soon.”

  He swallowed down a lump. How much would they tell that man? Would he become responsible for all four sisters? It made his skin prickle to think of some other man telling him whether or not he could see Isabella. It made him even more irritated to think of that same stranger denying the other sisters’ care.

  Bash was well and truly stuck. “I’m glad to hear it.” He gave them both a return smile. “Do you think that Isabella and I could speak with your sister, Eliza?”

  The smiles slipped from all three of the sister’s faces.

  “Why?” Abigail asked.

  At the same moment, Emily stood. “Of course.”

  “Abigail,” Eliza said. “Go on.”

  Abigail huffed her hands coming to her hips. “I am going to marry the first purse that offers. If I’m old enough for that then I am old enough for this conversation.”

  Bash had to smile at that. She had a point. “Isabella?”

  Isabella jerked her chin in agreement and then she pulled the bag of coins from her pocket and tossed it in the center of the silver where it clanked loudly.

  In hurried words, she told them what had happened that evening.

  Emily gasped at various points, her hands covering the lower half of her face. But the other two sisters remained silent. They wore matching looks of displeasure.

  When it was done, Abigail looked at Eliza. “She can’t go back there.”

  “I agree,” Bash answered relieved.

  But Eliza shook her head. “I disagree. We need to find out who this man is. What if he’s connected to Father?”

  “That’s what I said,” Isabella chimed in.

  Eliza looked over at Emily. “Emily, you’re the only one that hasn’t chimed in.”

  Abigail’s brow furrowed. “The duke gets a family vote now?”

/>   Isabella’s hand squeezed his arm. “Of course, he does. He is the only reason we’re still afloat and haven’t had to sell that silver.”

  Something about those words knocked the wind from his lungs. They needed him. So much.

  And he needed them too.

  Well, he needed Isabella. More and more with each passing day. But what if he turned into his father. What if his demanding temper turned against the very person he loved the way his father had torn down his son?

  Love? Had he just used that word?

  Christ. He was in trouble. Was he falling in love?

  He looked over at Isabella’s profile. The soft curve of her cheek. The generous turn of her mouth. Lord, even now, he wanted to cup her face and support the weight of her head in his hand.

  “I…” Emily started. “I don’t want Isabella to go back.”

  His shoulders hunched. Good. That bought him more time to decide what to do about his growing feelings.

  Then Emily spoke again. “But I hate the idea of turning our home and Father’s business to Uncle Malcolm.” Then Emily looked at him. She had that same earnest expression as Isabella. “Can you keep her safe?”

  He, in turn, looked back at Isabella. Would he allow anything to happen to her? No. He wouldn’t. “I can keep her safe.”

  “Then I vote she goes back.” Emily held up a hand. “But not every night. It’s too hard on her.”

  He nodded. “Twice a week. And only for a few more weeks while we discover the identity of the gold purse giver.”

  “Agreed.” Eliza smiled in relief. “He’s our best lead to finding out what has happened to our father.”

  “Agreed.” Abigail frowned. “Don’t let Isabella down.”

  “I won’t,” he answered, pulling her a bit closer. “Where is that chaperone I hired?”

  Eliza chuckled. “Aunt Mildred believes in a strict schedule. She goes to bed promptly at ten.”

  “I’ll be back over in the morning.” He gave Isabella’s fingers one more squeeze.

  She crinkled her brow as she looked at him. “Why?”

 

‹ Prev