The Revenge of the Betrayed Duke: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Bridget Barton

  Cantara looked at Edward. “What is Manual’s weakness in playing cards?”

  “He is very happy when he has a good hand and even happier when he doesn’t,” Edward said. They sat in the shade of several large trees as they talked. They had set up a table away from the noise and chatter of the house. Together they played as Cantara taught Edward about how to play and win at cards.

  Cantara chuckled. “He is an easy mark with a tell that screams at his opponents, but not all men are like that. Some men you will face in a card game are wily and ruthless. It is very much like battling them but with your wits.” Cantara dealt out their hands and set the deck aside. “Much like the men you faced when you were a major in the war, the men you face across the table want to harm you. They want to take from you. The trick is to take from them first. Do not get bogged down in their stories. For their stories will spur that gentle spirit of yours.”

  “You think I have a gentle spirit?” Edward asked with a grin.

  Cantara eyed Edward out of his one good eye. “You are rougher around the edges than when you first came here, but it is hard to wash the gentleman out of the English. You are still very much soft, and you must fight that weakness of yours. Let your anger and your quest fuel your blindness to your enemies’ plights.”

  “I don’t know if I feel particularly generous right now,” Edward assured Cantara as he arranged his hand.

  Cantara eyed him as the corner of his lips quirked up. “Got a good hand, huh?”

  Edward frowned. “How did you know that?”

  “I didn’t, not for sure. You have a tendency to smile ever so slightly when you notice something you like,” Cantara said. “Be aware of your own flaws and use them to help you entrap your enemy.”

  Edward took a deep breath and nodded. Learning the trade of gambling was harder than it had first appeared, but Edward was determined to make good on his promise to Emily. He would return to her even if he had to swim. “How will I know when I am good enough?”

  “Beat me,” Cantara said with a shrug. “Beat me, and then we will take you to local games. Beat them, and we will go to the bigger cities. Once you are ready, you can travel through the gambling circuits all the way to Portugal. There you can easily and discreetly book passage with no questions asked.”

  Edward looked back at his cards. “Best get started then,” he said confidently, earning a grin from Cantara.

  ***

  (Six Months Later on the outskirts of Portugal)

  “I hardly recognise you with that beard you’ve grown,” Cantara said with a generous slap on Edward’s back that caused Edward to teeter forward with the impact from it.

  Edward said, “Was that not the ploy?”

  “It was. I came to make sure that you were doing well, but I can tell that it was not needed. You have a natural gift for the cards and reading men,” Cantara said. Manual and Hugo shifted. Cantara cleared his throat. “I feel these scoundrels have words for you. I shall go on into town and get myself a drink. Good luck, Esteban Duarte.” With that, Cantara urged his horse on down the street headed towards the Portugal Harbour.

  Manual shook his head. “What a sight our young man is,” he said nudging Hugo. “Look how he has grown. Does it not make you proud to see him?”

  “We have to keep you from the drink,” Hugo said to Manual, but there was humour in his voice. Hugo looked at Edward and asked, “You certain you don’t want to stick around? It won’t be the same without you.”

  Edward said with a touch of regret. “I need to go home. Besides Emily and clearing my name, I have a bit of revenge that needs doling out.”

  “Revenge is a hard business,” Hugo reminded him. “If you find yourself in need, just remember that thieves always stick together.”

  Edward looked around. “Pablo did not come,” Edward said. It was not really a question. He had not expected the man to come, after all.

  “You know how Pablo is about goodbyes,” Hugo said to Edward. “I told him that we would pass on his well-wishes to you.”

  Edward smiled. “Tell him that I thank him. I can use all the well-wishes that I can get.”

  “You’ll do great,” Manual said as he patted Edward on the shoulder.

  Edward laughed and pulled Manual into an embrace. When Manual stepped back, Hugo came up and embraced Edward. It was possible that Edward would never see these men again, and he owed them much. As Hugo and Edward stepped back from each other, Edward said, “Thank you for looking out for me. I know that I was hard on you and did not want friends. Good friends are exactly what you have been, despite my stubbornness not to have you.”

  “You were just playing hard to get,” Manual said with a wink which caused Hugo to chuckle. Edward joined them in their merriment.

  Finally, Edward turned to go to his horse. “I had better get going, or I shall not get a place on one of the boats,” Edward said as he patted his horse’s neck.

  “Be safe,” Hugo said with a nod to Edward. He and Manual turned towards their own horses that were eating grass just off the road.

  Edward said, “And you, my friends.” He spurred his horse on towards the centre of town where his own inn was located that he had been staying at while making his rounds at the local gaming tables. He had ridden out to say goodbye to his friends but knew they would likely be headed back towards Northern Spain and the easy pickings of wayward French nobles.

  When Edward reached the inn, he greeted the lady at the front desk with his customary bow. It was part of the persona he had built for himself. He spoke little of himself, allowing those he met to weave their own tales of Esteban Duarte, the name that Edward had adopted for his new identity.

  The woman eyed him with unmistakable curiosity for this strange man who came wrapped in the trappings of finery but whose eyes held a deep sadness. Edward went up the steps as quickly as he could with his slight limp. It was a leftover vestige of his days in the war that Edward had embraced as part of Esteban’s enigmatic allure.

  He carried a cane with him that had been whittled from a beautiful piece of wood he had found in his travels. It was a nice reminder of where he had been and a functional aid, as well as a handy means of self-defence for the world’s less scrupulous types. Not that many bothered him as he was under the protection of Cantara, and any man that had crossed Cantara only did so once.

  Edward still thought it best to have some means of defence on him as he had refused to carry guns since the war. He had no stomach for the smell of the discharge that firearms often had. The very scent of it left him sickened, and he often awoke from nightmares with the smell still fresh in his nostrils.

  He looked through his bags that he had organised neatly on the bed and found the slip of paper that held the name of the ship he wanted. Edward counted his money and put some of it in his coin purse and the rest in his boot. Once he was sure that he had the money and information he needed, Edward headed toward the harbour.

  The Portugal harbour was one of the liveliest places that Edward had ever been. London’s ports while busy did not boast the abundance of noise and the dizzying array of colours that seemed to adorn every object. Edward ducked to avoid a colourful strip of fabric that was tied around a pole.

  Cantara was waiting near the harbor master’s office when Edward arrived. “I did not know how long you would be, so I took the liberty of booking your voyage,” the man said as he scanned the harbour.

  “I do not suppose you will let me repay you for the price,” Edward ventured.

  Cantara grinned and slapped Edward on the shoulder. Edward winced at the hammering gesture. “You know me too well for that,” Cantara said. “I expect you to do us proud and to accomplish your aims.”

  “I promise that I shall, or at least I promise to try,” Edward said with a sigh as he joined the man in looking out over the harbour.

  Cantara nodded slowly. “You’ll do what you need to,” he said with an astute look at Edward. “You just give that cousin of yours our regards.
”

  “That I swear,” Edward said with conviction as he thought of James’ grinning face.

  He would see James again, and the last thing that James saw would be Edward’s face. It was one of the things that drove him, perhaps even more so than Emily. He had to avenge his former self. He might not be able to prove his innocence, but James would suffer for what he had stolen from Edward.

  “It feels odd to be on the cusp of returning home. It is not something I thought I would do in this lifetime,” Edward said with a frown. “I wonder that it does not make me happier to think of it.”

  Cantara turned towards Edward, which made Edward look at the man. His face was unreadable, but Edward got the impression he was sad. Cantara said, “Maybe home has taken on a different meaning to you. I have not been home since my Teresa left this world. I feel some comfort at her grave, but it is not the same.”

  “So you strike out at the world and make it suffer for its crimes,” Edward said as he watched the man.

  Cantara grinned. “You know, I do believe you are getting a little too good at reading people, Esteban.”

  “It is odd how that name feels more comfortable most of the time than my own,” Edward said with a chuckle.

  Cantara nodded slowly. “It is good that it is comfortable. It will make your mask the harder to yank off.”

  “I just hope there’s some Edward left in here,” Edward said as he looked back out over the sea.

  ***

  Emily walked with purpose as she squared her shoulders. She walked down the hallway that led to her husband’s study. She knew from the maid that the man was in, not that she had seen him.

  The very notion that she had to find out that her own husband was finally home from a chambermaid made Emily furious. She had done her best to compose herself before going to find her wayward husband. There were things they needed to discuss, and Emily knew they likely would not be pleasant.

  There was no pleasant when it came to James. Emily steeled herself for every interaction they had to have. The man was surly, disagreeable, and seemed bent on shaming Emily any way that he could.

  Emily rapped her knuckles on the door with such force that it stung. She waited, and when the man did not answer, she twisted the knob only to find it locked. Emily drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “James, I know that you are home,” she said in a heated whisper as she leaned her head near the door. “Open this door,” she hissed.

  Only silence met her. Finally, Emily was forced to leave. She went to her sitting room and sat for a moment collecting her thoughts. She could return to her parents’ home, but that would do her little good.

  “Miss?” The voice belonged to Anne. The young woman had followed Emily when she came to live with James. Emily was grateful for the friendly presence at first, but even Anne had become a source of sorrow at one time.

  Emily frowned. “Come in, Anne,” she called.

  The maid came in fidgeting with her apron. “Are you well, Miss? I saw you headed to the Earl’s study.”

  “He will likely not be an Earl by this time next week, Anne,” Emily said with little care for the tone she used. “There is no need to keep addressing him so formally. You and I both know that you know him intimately enough to suit any biblical scripture.”

  Anne blushed deeply. “I said I was sorry, Miss. It only happened that once.”

  Emily sighed and hung her head. “I know, Anne. I am not actually angry at you anymore. I am just frustrated at my inability to do anything about my current situation.”

  “What can you do?” Anne asked as she came to sit next to her mistress.

  Emily laughed at the absurdity of the situation and said, “Nothing. I can do absolutely nothing. I cannot own property nor do anything my husband opposes. I cannot voice my opinion or show a display of emotion.”

  “No matter the class, the situation is the same,” Anne said. “I was thinking about my mom and how she was so lucky to have a male relative that was not like the Earl or those drunkards that come here sometimes.”

  Emily sighed. “Yes, I have pleaded with him not to bring people here like that. Our reputation is in shreds, and he drinks away his fortune as if that will help. And it is somehow all my fault.”

  “That isn’t true,” Anne said with conviction. “You can’t really believe that.”

  Emily scoffed, “I might as well. It is what everyone thinks. James thinks so, and he tells everyone else, so they all think so. I am fairly certain even my father thinks I am to blame for James losing everything.”

  Anne shifted as if she were uncomfortable. “Miss, where shall we go?”

  “A lesser holding,” Emily said, but even she was not sure if there were any lesser holdings. James liked to use the property as collateral, and the likelihood that the smaller parcels were still intact or not sold was low. “We shall figure things out,” Emily said as she had to all the other staff that had asked her such questions. She felt as if she were lying to them, but she could not let them feel as hopeless as she did.

  Anne nodded as she looked at her hands. “Do you want me to get the keys from the butler and open the study door?”

  Emily chuckled. “No,” she said with resolve. “If James wants to curl up in his petty little ball, then we shall let him. Besides, he probably still reeks of cheap perfume from another night of dalliances.”

  ***

  James groaned as he saw an official paper waiting for him on his desk. No doubt one of the staff had accepted it from the courier. “Banks and charlatans,” James muttered as he ripped the envelope open. He already knew what it said. It was a written notice telling him that all of his assets were being seized to pay his debts.

  He knew that he was on the verge of losing his father’s titles and estate, but surely it did not have to happen now? James’ anger got the best of him, and he ripped the paper to shreds. “Are you happy now, Father?” James asked to the room. He clenched his blond hair and closed his eyes.

  Emily had at least left him be for the moment. He could not deal with her today. The look on her face of disappointment was too much to bear. The woman ceaselessly tormented James with his failures. How could he not fail with her staring at him as if he were merely a sad replacement for her beloved Edward?

  Oh, she never said that she loved Edward still, but then she never told James that she loved him either. James knew though that the woman’s heart was treacherous against him. He knew the same way that he knew that coward Augustus would eventually turn on him, but then James would be ready for that betrayal.

  He had not thought of Augustus in a long while. James sighed and leaned back against the chair. Again a noise sounded outside the door. James listened. Emily’s voice came again through the door, “James, will you not talk to me so that I know you are safe?”

  James did not trust the concern in the woman’s voice. James finally called, “I am well.”

  A moment passed before Emily said, “Thank you.”

  James got up to go to the door and muttered a silent curse as he opened it. Emily stood with her arms in front of her, her hands clasped together. James wondered suddenly what the woman would be like if she truly loved him. “What do you want?”

  “I told you,” Emily said with a shrug. Her calm countenance was firmly set in place.

  James nodded. “Then you will leave me to my work.”

  “Oh?” Emily asked as she leaned her head to the side. “What work would that be? Is that gambling or the harlots?”

  Blood pumped in James’ ears, and he knew that his neck was likely turning red with his anger, but he spoke back in a quiet voice. “Neither at the moment.”