Sins of a Duke

by Suzanne Enoch

  “I don’t recall asking you to remain behind,” Sebastian stated, facing the servant.

  “Begging your pardon, Your Grace, but coach tiger ain’t my usual position. I reckon that you brought me along to keep an eye on things, and so I am.”

  “Hm.” Sebastian looked around at the crowd of horses, grooms, and vehicles. Overhead, a burst of fireworks winked white into the sky. “I need to get home,” he said, heading for the bridge. It was still early, and Peep was probably still awake. He did not want her to hear this particular news from anyone but him.

  “I’ll hire us a hack,” Green said, matching his pace.

  He needed to think, and what he wanted was a few moments in private. At the same time, he knew that Embry had other soldiers, and he couldn’t guarantee that Josefina’s stunt had caused them all to withdraw. If he’d been the rey, he wasn’t certain how he would proceed—a chance at additional riches versus permanently closing the mouth of someone who might expose him.

  From the manner in which she’d acted, Josefina clearly thought that Embry would choose the riches. With her one loud statement she—and her father—most likely thought they’d silenced him, and gained his cooperation. Well, he’d allow them to think that. For the moment.

  “How did you manage it, Josefina?” her father chortled in between bouts of outright laughter. “You said he was suspicious of us!” He put a hand over his chest, as if he couldn’t contain his amusement. “I nearly removed him from the equation. Good Lord. You should have said something!”

  Josefina sat in the opposite corner of the coach and rubbed her arm. Sebastian’s grip would leave a bruise. “I suppose everyone has their price,” she improvised. “When he realized that Harek was on the verge of proposing, I think he understood what an opportunity was about to pass him by.”

  “Excellent, excellent, excellent. I’ve always said if there’s one constant in the hearts of all men, it’s greed. Our entire endeavor works because of that principle.”

  “Are you happy with the match, mi querida?” her mother asked.

  The future groom wasn’t. He was furious at the idea of having to marry her. No doubt he would find a way to escape it and to see her hanged at the same time. Once she’d made the announcement, extricating himself from it had been the only thing he’d even mentioned. But if the alternative to her declaration was seeing him stabbed in the back, she would accept his anger. “We will be wealthy beyond our wildest dreams,” she said aloud.

  “But are you happy to marry him?” Maria Embry pressed.

  “Of course she’s happy, my love,” her father broke in. “We’ve won. Still a few details to work out and all that, and I want the wedding to take place as soon as possible, but with Melbourne in the fold and under control, we can do as we please.”

  She wished she could be so certain of that. A wedding would secure her family’s future, and Melbourne’s options were limited. His anger and disgust, though, troubled her heart.

  “I’m glad he gave us until tomorrow,” her father was saying. “We need to draw up some papers, something to make certain he has to keep quiet about what he knows or incriminate himself. Oh, and I should give him a title.”

  “He’s already a duke, Father.”

  “What did we give Prinny?” he went on, as though she hadn’t spoken. “It can’t be as high as that—perhaps I’ll make him a regular Knight of the Green Cross. You know, with the Duke of Melbourne involved now, we should have a loftier name the next time. Costa del Oro, perhaps. We would have to alter the prospectus and the bond and land sale documents, but we can certainly afford the expense now.”

  Josefina sat silently, trying not to let her mouth gape open as her father happily plotted the formation of a new and improved country on the Mosquito Coast. He truly didn’t care what might become of any settlers who would arrive to find no gleaming capital city, no sparkling harbor, no Costa Habichuela at all. And no princess.

  Once Sebastian discovered that an ex-patriot soldier’s daughter had publicly trapped him into marriage, she would likely be thankful that she could only be hanged the one time. Why hadn’t her father bothered to tell her that he meant to expand their scheme? He expected her to take the risks.

  A soldier’s daughter. She’d slapped Sebastian. She’d put on airs. She’d given the impression that she barely considered him elevated enough even to speak with her. She’d taken him to her bed. He would never forgive her.

  Josefina shook herself. What was wrong with her, pining over losing something she’d never had? It wasn’t as though they cared for one another. Their attraction was simply a mutual lust. Everything, everyone, was just a means to an end, and she’d played the last and best trick. And now more than ever she needed to keep Sebastian close by in order to keep herself safe, because he would never just let this go. Never.

  A low stir of…something went through her. If the only way to save herself and Sebastian, save her family, save the other people who relied on her father’s wits, was to go forward with a wedding, then she would do it. And even if Sebastian hated her for it, he would marry her as long as it appeared to be the right thing to do. Perhaps eventually he would even forgive her.

  Stanton pulled open the front door as Sebastian reached it. “You’ve returned early, Your Grace. I hope—”

  “Where’s my daughter?” Sebastian barked, heading for the stairs without bothering to shed his gloves or coat.

  “I believe her to be in the billiards room with Mrs. Beacham, Your Grace. Is something amiss?”

  Sebastian raced up the stairs. “The family will be arriving shortly,” he said over his shoulder as he ascended. “Show them to the morning room. If you see any Witfelds other than Caroline, send them away.” He frowned as he topped the stairs. This nonsense wasn’t their fault. “No. Send any extraneous Witfelds to the breakfast room. Have Cook make them sandwiches or something.”

  “I’ll see to it, Your Grace.”

  He reached the billiards room and pushed open the door. “Mrs. Beacham, please excuse us,” he said, keeping his voice low and even. “Lady Penelope will see you in her bedchamber shortly.”

  The red-haired governess curtsied. “Good evening then, Your Grace. I shall be waiting, Lady Peep.”

  “Very well, Mrs. B.”

  The governess left the room, closing the door softly behind her. When Sebastian turned back to the room Peep was eyeing him, a too-large billiards cue in her small hands. He paced to the window and back, but the drive below remained empty.

  Now that he’d gotten to her, he didn’t know what to say. In addition, he couldn’t stand still—with time to think, he would have to acknowledge what had taken place tonight and how he’d been so off-balance that he hadn’t been able to prevent it.

  “Did you shoot someone?” Peep asked, leaning on the cue in a petite imitation of her uncles.

  “No.”

  “You’re making me very uneasy, Papa. I think you should tell me what’s happened.”

  Bright as Peep was, she was still a little girl. His little girl. And there were some things about people and their machinations that he didn’t care to educate her about. Not yet. “Come here,” he said, taking a seat on one of the chairs lining the wall. “We need to talk.”

  She laid the cue across the table and climbed onto the arm of the chair. “Is everyone well?” she asked, a quaver in her voice.

  “Everyone’s perfectly fine.” Wonderful. Sending his daughter into a panic would complete the evening. “A very complicated thing has happened. The circumstances of it could change at any moment, and probably will, but I thought you should know how things stand.”

  “Very well, as long as no one is hurt.”

  Sebastian cleared his throat. How the devil was he supposed to begin this particular tale? “I kissed Princess Josefina,” he proffered.

  Penelope narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t ruin her like Uncle Shay ruined Aunt Sarala, did you?”

  “How the devil do you know about that?”


  She sighed. “Papa, really. I keep abreast of everything. Did you ruin her?”

  “No. But at the moment she and I are…” He closed his eyes for a heartbeat. “We’ve told people that we’re going to be married.”

  “Married?” his daughter repeated, looking as shocked as he’d ever seen her.

  “That is the present situation, yes.”

  “And you told other people before you told me? Who?”

  “Telling anyone was something of an accident, my heart. As soon as it happened I came home straightaway to tell you.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Where is Josefina? I would like to speak with her.”

  “She went home. I’ll see her tomorrow.”

  “Will this make me a princess?”

  The first glimmer of humor he’d felt all evening touched him. “I’m afraid not. You’ve always been my princess, if that helps.”

  Twisting, she hugged him, resting her cheek against his. “I like her,” she stated. “She knows pirates and soldiers. But when you got mad at me for inviting her into the house, I thought you didn’t like her. That made it very hard on me. You should have told me that you were falling in love. I gave Uncle Shay some very good advice when he was courting Aunt Sarala. I’m helpful.”

  Love. According to the rest of his family, he was no longer capable of the emotion. In love with Josefina? At the moment he wasn’t certain whether he wanted to kiss her or strangle her. He knew quite well what he wanted to do to her father. “As I said, Peep, this is only the situation at this moment. We made the decision for…business reasons, and it will undoubtedly change.”

  She lifted her head to look at him, her gray eyes serious. “Papa, I can’t help being troubled to hear you say this is all business. You’re a very wealthy duke, you know, and you don’t have to marry anyone.”

  Sebastian lifted an eyebrow. “Thank you for reminding me.” Down below a carriage turned up the drive. “So if I did love her, you wouldn’t mind if I married her?”

  Even as he spoke, he regretted the question. For one thing, he shouldn’t have been putting such thoughts in Peep’s head. For another, he certainly had other, more pressing things to worry about at the moment.

  “Because of Mama, you mean?” she asked.

  “Yes. Because of Mama.”

  She pursed her lips, obviously considering. “Would you still love Mama?”

  “Always.” His heart lurched, as it always did when they talked about Charlotte.

  “Well, I love Buttercup, and I love you, and I love Aunt Nell and Uncle Valentine and Uncle Shay and Aunt Saral—”

  “Your point being?” He curled one of the dark ringlets of her hair around his finger.

  “My point is that you and I both love several people, and I don’t think adding one more will hurt anything.”

  Except perhaps the future of the entire Griffin clan. He took his daughter’s hand and stood. “You are very wise, my lady.”

  “I know. Who’s coming to visit us? Are you certain it’s not Josefina?”

  “No, it’s your aunts and uncles. There’s likely to be some arguing, so I’ll need you to go up to bed.”

  “Very well. This news has worn me out.” She tugged his sleeve down to kiss him on the cheek. “Don’t yell at them too much.”

  “I won’t.” In fact, it was far more likely they would all yell at him—and with good reason.

  As Penelope went upstairs, he headed down. “Who’s here?” he asked Stanton, then remembered the length of Peep’s litany of close relations. “No, tell me who’s not here. That will be simpler.”

  “No Witfelds are here, Your Grace,” the butler answered. “Shall I send the sandwiches into the morning room?”

  “Yes. We may be there for quite some time.”

  Chapter 17

  Zachary wolfed down his seventh cucumber sandwich. “A knife?” he mumbled around it. “You’re absolutely certain?”

  Sebastian paced to the hearth and back. “For the third bloody time, yes, I’m certain,” he snapped. These people might be precious to him, but he did not under any circumstances enjoy being called to task. “Why, do you think it might have been a spoon?”

  “No. I’m just trying to grasp the—”

  “She clearly saved your life,” Nell interrupted. “I was set to hate her, but Sebastian, if she hadn’t—”

  “If she hadn’t been a part of this to begin with, no one would have been trying to kill our brother.” Shay sat where he’d been for the past three-quarters of an hour, his fists still clenched and his expression the most grim Sebastian had seen in four years. Since the last family tragedy.

  “You can’t say that for certain,” Valentine countered, twining and untwining his fingers with Eleanor’s. “Whether or not Melbourne became involved directly, the rey would still be here plotting, and I’d wager pounds to pence that this family would have been the first to uncover the fraud.”

  “And then who would have stopped the assassination?” Eleanor seconded.

  “By announcing a wedding?” Shay snorted. “Come now, Nell. She planned this all along.”

  “I don’t think so.” Sebastian wasn’t even certain he’d spoken aloud until he caught the quizzical gazes aimed in his direction. “She did try to warn me that I might be in danger. I didn’t listen.”

  “I’ve been part of this family for only a year,” Sarala said abruptly, the remains of her India-raised accent still in her words, “so please tell me if I’m overstepping.”

  “You’re not,” he said shortly. As a member of the family she had as much right to grind at him as anyone else in the room, though if he clenched his jaw any harder he would break some teeth.

  She nodded. “Then with the limited amount of time you have before meeting with the Embrys, perhaps we should be considering where things stand now, as opposed to how or why they came to be this way.”

  He drew a breath. “Very well. Josefina told her father that I suspected something. With a public announcement bringing me into the family, Embry will consider me both silenced and an ally, reluctant or not. He’s probably already counting the additional money I’ll provide them.”

  “I love greed.” Valentine leaned forward to pull the tray of sandwiches away from Zachary. “It’s easy to play on, and easy to predict.”

  “So how can we use it to get Seb out of this mess?” Zachary sent a glare at Valentine. “Giving Embry money will only encourage him.” Surreptitiously he slid the sandwiches back in front of him and took another.

  “Whose side is Princess Josefina on?” Caroline asked, speaking for the first time since she and Zachary had entered the room.

  “Her father’s, obviously.”

  Eleanor shook her head. “I don’t think so, Zach. She gave Sebastian some very confidential information. And while bringing a wealthy ally into the fold does help her father’s cause, Embry’s first choice in dealing with Melbourne was to see him dead. Whatever happened after, she went against her father then.”

  It would have been better if she’d never sided with the rey at all. “Much as you must all be enjoying seeing me make mistakes and squirm because of them, the real issue is not what happens between Josefina and myself. It’s how to correct my—our family’s—association with Embry.”

  “Bugger that,” Shay retorted bluntly. “Whatever we might have said about your interference in our lives, no one in this room wishes you pain.”

  Seeing their serious, concerned faces, he would accept that statement as the truth. “Very well. To buy us some time, tomorrow I will play the son-in-law-to-be,” he decided. “Embry may think that including me in his plans helps him, but it also helps me. I still have questions, and he’s the best one to answer them.”

  “What about the—”

  “Shay, go back to Eton and get John Rice-Able. Hide him somewhere, but I want him available in the event that we need someone’s word to counter Embry’s. As for the rest, I think we’ll have to wait until aft
er my meeting. I can prepare, but he still has to make the next move.”

  “I don’t like it,” Zach protested anyway. “One of us should go with you tomorrow.”

  “Not if I want him to say anything helpful. Go home. We’ll meet back here for dinner.”

  In pairs his siblings and in-laws bade him good night and left. His head ached. What the devil was he supposed to do between now and the morning? Sleep was out of the question. Riddles and knots twisted his insides until he could barely breathe, much less think straight. There had to be something he’d missed, something he could do that would make a difference. What that something might be, though, continued to elude him. The rest of the family might enjoy seeing his human side, but he took absolutely no pleasure in revealing his own bloody mistakes.

  The last to leave were Nell and Valentine. The marquis handed his wife into their coach, then leaned in and said something to her. As Sebastian watched from the portico, his closest friend turned around again and approached him.

  “Let’s take a stroll through the garden, Melbourne,” Valentine said, gesturing.

  “No. I don’t need any advice on extricating myself from female entanglements. Go home.”

  Valentine sighed. “Tell me this, then—at the moment your plan is to gain all the information you can and then present it to Prinny and the authorities in order to prevent innocent citizens from sailing off to their doom, yes?”

  “A bit long-winded, but yes.”

  The marquis looked him straight in the eye. “They’ll hang her, you know. The princess.”

  Sebastian flinched, and he knew Valentine saw it. “If she is on our side, then I’ll do what I can to protect her from that.”

  “Ah. What you can. Within the bounds of propriety, I suppose. You’ll have quite the task making yourself look heroic and avoiding a scandal, as it is.”

  “That’s enough, Deverill.”

  “Just pointing out the obvious,” Valentine returned easily. “Everyone knows you’ll do anything to avoid a scandal. That was why you publicly begged for her father’s permission to marry her once she threw herself on you, wasn’t it? Because declaring the lot of them thieves and frauds right then would have been what—completely reasonable and believable?”