Secrets of a Duke's Daughter (The Duchess's Investigative Society Book 1)

by Samantha Holt

NO ONE PAID Luke any attention when he paced through the mill. Either the workers were too busy, or they’d get in trouble for dallying. Most likely the latter.

  The racket of the machines vibrated through his bones as he set his jaw and strode past the vast vats of dye. Red like Cassie had said. But he saw no sign of the man with a limp amongst the workers. Could she have been mistaken?

  He pressed a breath through clenched teeth. This had to be over. Today. He could not spend another moment under the same roof as Cassie or he might very well break.

  Once he’d made his way past the vats and bundles of fabric, workers dissipated, and he pushed through a door. He entered a vast room, piled high with crates and barrels. He supposed the mill stored additional supplies here but how much did one business need? He’d already seen their supplies of cotton and the mill did not seem big enough to need this much fabric or dye. He paused at one of the crates and eased aside the loosened lid.

  “What the devil...?” he murmured.

  Bottles tucked carefully amongst straw filled the box. Lifting one, he held it up to the thin stream of light and eyed the label. He hadn’t seen this make of wine in some time. It had been notoriously hard to get hold of since the war with France. Either it was counterfeit or smuggled over. He put the bottle back and moved to another container to find stacks of what he suspected was spice. A quick sniff confirmed his suspicions.

  He shook his head. How in the hell did Theodore get involved in such things? If the man with the limp was really responsible for his disappearance, it seemed he was quite the criminal. Theodore had gambled heavily in the past years but had given up cards and repaid his debts. What possible reason could he have for being involved with a smuggler?

  Luke froze at the sound of voices. He eased behind a crate but the voices didn’t grow any louder, so he eased out from behind it and moved cautiously in the direction of the conversation. Whoever they were, they were gathered in a room at the rear of the building.

  He pressed his back to the wall and eased around to catch sight of them. Three men. One sat on a spindly chair, his feet upon a desk laden with paper. Another perched upon the desk and the final one stood. He might have his back to him, but Luke recognized the hat. And the one who was seated.

  The man who had pushed Cassie down.

  He curled a fist until his knuckles hurt and pressed his back against the wall again. He suspected the way he felt he could take on all three of them, but he might not come out in one piece.

  “So this Harding knows nothing then?”

  “He has his suspicions, but he’s a fool. I doubt he shall discover anything.”

  Luke stole another quick glance. The man with the hat continued to speak.

  “I followed him for several days. He inquired at the solicitors about the will, but he has not pursued the matter.”

  “That damned will has caused too many problems. You got too greedy, Jameson. It’s drawn attention to us.”

  Jameson huffed. “We need that house.”

  “We have other places we can use,” the other man replied.

  “So close to the river?” Footsteps echoed back and forth across the stone floor. “Parsons owed us.”

  “He paid us back,” the third voice pointed out. “With interest.”

  “Not enough interest. Not after how much I loaned him.”

  “I don’t know, Jameson, getting involved with the toffs. We should have continued as we were. Now we’ve got the attention of that duchess bitch.”

  Luke’s gut bunched at the mention of Cassie.

  “Don’t you know how it works?” said one of the men. “She ain’t a duchess. She’s just a duke’s daughter.”

  “Oh, just,” the other scoffed. “Doesn’t matter what she is. She’s a pain in the rear, and if she don’t stop poking her nose in, she’ll discover us.”

  “I frightened her good,” replied Jameson. “She’s not left the house since I hurt that maid.”

  “You said that the first time and yet she was still seen at the old place.”

  Luke’s blood ran cold. Whether the attack at the building was a robbery or not, someone had been watching them. God damn, he should have been more careful, should have put a stop to this rather than being weak and indulging Cassie.

  “I’ll handle her,” Jameson said. “Have I ever let anyone interfere with business and get away with it?”

  There was a murmur of ‘no’ from the two other men.

  “Exactly. So keep your gobs shut and cease your complaining. You’re beginning to sound like my late wife.”

  “Your wife was tougher than you.” The men chuckled. “She’d have had that bitch dead long ago.”

  Jameson laughed. “Get back to work, Lowell. We have a lot to do. As for this Fallon girl—I’ll sort it. She can’t stay holed up in that grand house forever. Pampered ladies like that are always attending balls. She’ll leave eventually.”

  There was a grunt and some shuffling. Luke eased along the wall and ducked swiftly behind a crate. The two men emerged from the room. One was tall and lanky, his clothing tired and plain. His fingers were red-tinged just like Jameson’s. The second man had bright red hair and was slightly shorter and younger. He looked slightly smarter than his friend, but the tailoring did not fit his small frame. Luke suspected the clothing was stolen. He waited until they moved past him and through a door to the rear of the building.

  This Jameson wasn’t going to go anywhere near Cassie ever again. Luke would make sure of that. He waited a few moments then ducked out from behind the crates. He moved swiftly, spying the man with his knuckles propped on the desk and his back to Luke.

  Luke grabbed the scruff of his neck, twisted him and slammed him up against the wall. “You will not touch her again,” he bit out.

  Jameson offered a yellowed, gappy grin and glanced behind Luke. “I don’t think you’ll be able to stop me.”

  Luke grimaced when he heard the cough behind him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Cassie craned her neck to eye the tall brick building. “He could be anywhere.”

  Eleanor squeezed her hand. “We’ll find him.”

  “I suggest we split up.” Chastity motioned to the two men they had brought with them. They could have done with more men given the size of the building, but they dared not leave their father and the servants completely unprotected. “You go with Demeter, Eleanor and Aunt Sarah.” She gestured to Cassie. “We shall go with Jacobs.”

  Cassie eyed the giant of a man who gave a brief nod. She had come to know several of the men who had been protecting them, bringing them biscuits and tea when she could. Jacobs had five daughters and two sons and despite his gruff appearance, apparently utterly doted on them. She hoped nothing dangerous happened today.

  She prayed Luke had discovered nothing or even better, found the man responsible for the threats and had simply handed him over to the local sheriff.

  Her heart skipped a beat when she paused to wonder why he had not returned if that was true. Wherever Luke was, she had to find him. He might have dismissed her this morning, but she would not do the same in return.

  Cassie nodded. “Let us head to the back of the building. You three can search the front. And please, be careful. I do not think this man would think twice about harming a lady.”

  “Never fear,” Aunt Sarah said, “no man can get the better of me.”

  Cassie allowed herself a brief smile. Perhaps she should have continued to keep her family out of this but perhaps it would not have reached this point if she had let them be involved in the first place.

  Her sisters were clever, and her aunt was bold. Between them, they might have caught this man before the threats even started. She regretted people had to get hurt because of her silly pride.

  But she was willing to put that aside now. Anything to ensure Luke’s safety.

  They made their way around the rear of the building. Smoke bilged out of tall chimneys, scenting the air. The dirt road leading past
was dry underfoot but rutted with wagon tracks and Cassie had to lift her skirts to step over them. She inhaled deeply and went to ease open the door.

  Jacobs moved in front of her. “Let me lead, my lady.”

  She allowed the man to open the door and inch in. He motioned for them to follow after a few moments and Cassie had to take a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dark. Thin slits of windows ran along one side of the building but were high up, letting little light in. Piles and piles of wooden crates, sacks and barrels were stacked in the room, creating a maze of storage. Why a textile mill would need so many goods, she did not know. She glanced at Chastity, who shrugged.

  They crept together through the building, following Jacobs. Her heart pounded so fiercely she felt it in her fingertips. The man behind the threats did not scare her.

  No, it was the thought that Luke could be hurt...or worse. All thanks to her. After all, this person had either killed a man or salvaged a body from somewhere to burn and made Theodore disappear. Not to mention he had been entirely willing to beat a servant. Luke’s strength and determination could mean nothing when up against such a man.

  She paused to peer into an open crate. Sacks of sugar filled it to the brim. She frowned. This was most certainly not just a textile mill. Was the man a smuggler? Perhaps the mill was just a front for smuggling but the man hardly had the look of someone in charge of a great criminal empire.

  Admittedly, she did not know a single smuggler and had little idea what one might look like, but she had always assumed they were craggy old sailors who occasionally brought in stolen antiquities or alcohol through Cornwall. She had little idea such vast illegal activity was taking place in London.

  “Chastity,” she whispered and glanced up. Her sister and Jacobs had vanished amongst the boxes. “Oh pooh,” she murmured.

  She hastened to catch up with them, winding and slipping between crates but spying no sign of them. Her heart slammed to a halt when she heard voices. One of them was Luke’s. Relief made her limbs feel like trifle. He was alive!

  Ducking behind a crate nearby, she inched her nose over to peer into the room from where his voice emanated. The man with the hat stood in front of Luke.

  She clasped a hand over her mouth and smothered a sob that threatened to bubble out of her. Bound and kneeling upon the floor, he had taken a beating. A knife in the hand of one man glinted menacingly in the narrow light of the window behind Cassie.

  Dear God, they would kill him if she did not act soon. Unable to make out what the man said, she peered around. There had to be something she could do to free him, but she could not fathom how to get past the man. She doubted a knee to the groin could do much right now, no matter how much Aunt Sarah extolled the virtues of such a move.

  A distraction was needed. She rose slowly, careful not to draw attention, and moved over to a large stack of crates. She clambered onto one, then another, using them as steps until she could reach the higher ones. She gave one an experimental push with a hand and it rocked slightly. Whatever was in it was lighter than the sugar or it could even be empty. Someone had to be smiling down upon her.

  Using all her strength, she gave the box a shove. It toppled down to the floor, taking several others with it, and splintered in a huge crash. The man shouted someone’s name and Cassie scrabbled down the crates, retreating to her hiding spot.

  As soon as the man exited the room, his attention focused on the broken crate, she darted behind him and slipped into the room.

  Luke’s eyes widened. “Cassie?” he hissed. “What the devil are you doing here?”

  She flashed a smile. “Saving you, of course.”

  ***

  LUKE BLINKED SEVERAL times. He shouldn’t be surprised Cassie had come after him. She had to be the most determined, foolhardy woman in the world. But he could not fathom why she had not washed her hands of him after all he said.

  Covered in dust and grime, her gown bore the marks of whatever she’d just done to make such a noise. Light streamed in around her from the window at the other side of the building. Dirty or not, she could not have looked more angelic. Nor more bold.

  God, he loved this woman.

  “Why are you always dirty?” he muttered as she came around him to untie the bonds digging into his wrists.

  “Really? You wish to scold me now of all times?”

  “Let’s make haste. He’ll be back in a moment.”

  “We need to take him to the authorities.”

  “First, I need to get you out of here.” He shook loose the ropes and clambered to his feet. His cheek throbbed. When he put a hand to his lip, it came away sticky.

  Cassie hesitated. “He needs to pay for what he did to you. Come on, let’s go after him.”

  “Cassie—”

  She cried out when an arm latched around her waist. Luke rushed forward but Jameson thrust out the knife then pressed it against Cassie’s neck. “Come closer and I’ll slice her.”

  He froze, his blood running cold. “You touch her and I’ll kill you,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “Luke...” Eyes wide, a tremor shook her shoulders.

  He met her gaze and hoped she understood his message. No one would harm her, not while he had breath in his body. He just had to figure out how to get the knife away from her neck.

  Jameson glanced sideways. Luke’s stomach dropped. His companions returned. The taller one stepped into the room and tapped a length of wood against the floor. The redheaded man lifted his fists. These two were becoming a real nuisance.

  Luke’s breaths came hard and heavy and he tensed his muscles as Jameson backed away, the knife precariously close to breaking Cassie’s skin.

  Luke smirked at the men. “Get on with it.”

  The taller man dove forward, wooden baton raised high. He swung it down and Luke blocked it with a raised arm. Pain seared through him and he was fairly sure he heard the bone snap, but it bought him enough time to swing up with his fist and connect with the man’s jaw.

  Lowell staggered backward. Luke tightened his jaw and remembered him pushing Cassie.

  He followed up with a knee to the groin then a swift kick to his head as he folded. The redhead barreled in, striking low in Luke’s back with a fist. He yowled as agony rocketed through him and he twisted, using his broken arm to shield himself from another hit.

  Teeth gritted, he surged forward, slamming the man against the wall. A sickening thud echoed through the room as his head struck brick and the man’s eyes rolled upward. He ploughed a fist into his gut, making him sag.

  Luke stepped back, panting. He clasped his agonizing arm in one hand and eyed the damage. Neither man would be moving anytime soon, giving him a chance to go after Cassie.

  “What happened?”

  He turned to spy Aunt Sarah, a pistol in hand, followed by Demeter and Eleanor and one of the men he’d hired to watch the house. “Aunt Sarah?”

  “Looks like you got the better of them.” She grinned. “I always knew you were a good man.”

  “Have you seen Cassie?”

  “No, why?” Demeter’s face paled. “Where is she?”

  “Damn it.” He motioned to the women. “Stay here. Keep that pistol on them.” Then he gestured to the man. “Do not let anything happen to them.”

  He nodded and Luke hastened out of the building. He caught up with Jameson on the busy thoroughfare that wound past the mill and several other buildings, slowing his progress. The knife was no longer against Cassie’s neck, but jabbed subtly into her side.

  Luke barged through the crowds, ignoring the shouted annoyances and several threats. The man hauled Cassie onto a quieter side street. If they went any further, he’d be able to get her into a vehicle then Lord knew what would happen.

  Cassie could end up killed. He simply could not let that happen.

  “Jameson,” he called when he got near.

  Jameson spun and flashed the knife at him. Cassie remained stiff in the hold of his arm slung around her shou
lders. Her eyes widened when she spied Luke and he could only image what a sight he was. But then her expression hardened.

  His heart plummeted to his gut.

  Luke closed the gap but not rapidly enough. Not in time to prevent her from doing something foolish. She swung a fist down, connecting with Jameson’s crotch. The man’s eyes bulged, and his arm loosened from around her neck. Luke swiftly stepped in and dragged her from him before Jameson lifted the knife. He felt the blade tear through fabric and graze skin, but no pain came.

  Head ducked low, Luke used all his weight to shove Jameson to the ground. Behind him, Cassie screamed. He was vaguely aware of the smattering of people gathering around them. Luke caught the raised hand and beat the man’s fist on the ground until the knife clattered against the cobbled path.

  Jameson struggled beneath him and struck out at his injured arm. Luke ignored the agony and used his good arm to grab Jameson’s collar and slam his head against the stone, again and again. He’d never wanted to kill a man so badly. The image of Cassie with the knife to her throat seared his mind.

  “Luke!” Cassie put a hand to his arm. “He’s senseless.”

  He stilled and glanced at her. “He deserves more.”

  “We need him if we are to find Theodore,” she reminded him. “Please,” she begged as he drew back a fist, “do not let it be for naught.”

  He loosened his fists gradually and stumbled to his feet. Cassie glanced him over then swung her arms around his neck. He grunted and she retreated.

  “Oh goodness, I am sorry.”

  Luke shook his head, tugged her into his hold and pressed himself firmly against her. “No. I’m sorry. Sorry for everything I said.”

  A smile more beautiful than he deserved spread across her face. She rose onto tiptoes and gave him a firm kiss.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Any anger she had left at Luke fled when he looked at her so. His determination to see her safe, his battered state. She knew why he’d pushed her away. Or at least she sort of did. She could not fathom all the reasons but he’d been trying to protect her from himself—from the rake that he was.