The Dukes of Vauxhall

by Vanessa Kelly, Christi Caldwell, Theresa Romain, Shana Galen

  Antonia swallowed a laugh and rose to her feet. “Captain Cantrell, how delightful to see you.”

  He bowed over her hand. “Yes, it is indeed a charming surprise.”

  “Just imagine us running into each other like this again. Life certainly can take an odd turn, don’t you think?”

  “Indeed.”

  Lady Hunter looked at the watch attached to her sash. “I must go in and check on one of my charges. I’ll return shortly. In the meantime, Roman, I expect you to keep Miss Barnett entertained.”

  “Yes, Aunt.”

  She gave her nephew a stern look. “Do not frighten her off.”

  “Don’t worry, ma’am,” Antonia said. “If he starts acting like a bear, I’ll simply pull out my knife and stab him.”

  Lady Hunter laughed, and with a wave disappeared into the house.

  Roman sank into the empty chair. He didn’t wait for her to sit first, treating her as he would a male companion. Antonia found she rather liked that. It made them feel like…equals.

  “So you told her about our little adventure in Vauxhall, did you?” he said. “I was trying to protect you from gossip.”

  She shrugged. “I haven’t heard any, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Only insofar as it hurts you.”

  “I’m fairly immune to gossip at this point.”

  “There’s gossip and then there’s gossip, Antonia.”

  She had to struggle to hide the thrill that shot through her when he spoke her name in that lovely, deep voice. “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “While it’s unfortunate that people gossip about your ostensibly scandalous parentage, no true blame attaches to you for that.”

  “No true blame attaches to Mamma or Papa, either,” she said in a warning tone.

  “Naturally, but the gossip would be of quite a different nature if people found out we’d been gallivanting about in the darker walks of Vauxhall alone.”

  “Not alone, at least for part of it. And we were trying to save our lives, which hardly counts as gallivanting.”

  “I’m afraid many in the ton will find that a minor detail, easily ignored.”

  Antonia snorted. “I suppose they would think it better if I had ended up murdered, as long as my reputation remained intact.”

  He cut her a wry smile. “Yes, they are generally an appalling bunch, but I won’t see you harmed on my account.”

  “I’m grateful, but there’s no harm done.”

  “There might be if you don’t take better care of yourself.”

  She resumed her seat. “I take perfectly good care of myself, my dear sir.”

  His only reply was an annoying snort.

  “Why are you here?” she asked bluntly. “This hardly seems like your sort of outing.”

  “How straightforward you are, Miss Barnett. I do find it refreshing.”

  “You know I’m not very polished. Now, please answer the question.”

  His dark, amused gaze lingered on her face, pulling warmth into her cheeks.

  “Perhaps I knew you would be here,” he said.

  Now it was her turn to scoff.

  He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his muscular thighs, loosely clasping his hands. “Don’t underestimate your charms, Antonia,” he said, giving her a sideways glance.

  She told herself to ignore his flattery. “You obviously came because you knew I was going to be here, even though Lady Hunter pretended your appearance was a surprise.”

  “Caught that, did you?”

  “I suspect she’s matchmaking.”

  He jerked upright. “Really?”

  She waggled a hand. “I’m fairly certain of it.”

  “I don’t mean to criticize, but aren’t young ladies supposed to keep that sort of speculation to themselves?”

  “Well, you are the other intended victim. I thought you should know.”

  He went back to looking sardonic. “You are definitely the most unusual girl I’ve ever met.”

  “I believe you’ve made that point already, sir.”

  “I don’t mind in the least, I assure you. Leaving Aunt Chloe’s machinations to the side for the moment, I’m glad for the opportunity to speak with you without irate fathers or annoying pickpockets to interrupt.”

  “Those weren’t just pickpockets, and you know it.”

  He rolled his lips inward, looking like he didn’t want to answer. “You’re right,” he finally said.

  “So that’s why you disappeared so precipitously. You were going to look for them.”

  A hard nod was her answer.

  “I take it you didn’t find them.”

  “They were long gone by the time I got back to that part of the Gardens.”

  “Did they leave any clues?”

  He frowned. “Like what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. A handkerchief with an initial on it, or one of their pistols—”

  “Or a letter with an address conveniently written on the envelope,” he interrupted.

  “There’s no need to be sarcastic. I did help save us, you know.”

  “I do know. Although I admire your courage, I still find it deeply disturbing that I put you in that situation. You could have been injured, or worse.”

  “That’s why you wanted to see me, isn’t it? You wanted to apologize.”

  When he nodded, she had to swallow her disappointment. Despite his gallant teasing, it was silly to think that he had any interest in her as a woman.

  “Thank you, but I’m perfectly fine. And I have no doubt you would have effected my rescue one way or another, regardless of my efforts.”

  His smile was rueful. “I will comfort myself with that knowledge.”

  “I certainly hope they leave you alone from now on. Do you have any idea who they were?”

  When he shrugged, she rolled her eyes. “Let me guess—one of your business rivals.”

  “Probably.”

  “Do all your competitors wish to murder you?” she asked politely.

  That prompted a grin. “Your father certainly does.”

  “My father has many business rivals, and he’s generally quite friendly with them. The way he reacted to you…” She shook her head. “Well, it’s not like him.”

  While Papa could be ruthless when it came to business, he was also a fair and honest man with a good heart.

  “He’s not my favorite person, either,” he said dryly.

  “I wish you would tell me why. It’s annoying the way you both dance around the question.”

  “Ah, so you talked to him about me. What did he say?”

  “He refused to talk about you.”

  Roman laughed.

  “Captain Cantrell,” she started in an irritated tone.

  “Your father and I have been in direct competition on a number of important contracts. He does not appreciate that Cantrell & Sons was able to outbid him more than once. Of course, competition works both ways. I was just about to sign a lucrative order with the Kingdom of Naples when your esteemed papa stole it right out from under my nose.” He let out a disgusted snort. “It made me look like a complete idiot.”

  No wonder Roman had been so aggressive with her father the other night. Papa had clearly wounded his masculine pride.

  “Stole?” she said politely.

  “It’s how we describe such things. He very adroitly underbid me at the last moment.”

  “Papa is a very good businessman, but nothing you’ve said has explained his hostility.”

  “Antonia, why are you so interested in this?”

  She willed herself not to blush under his intent gaze. “My mother would be very annoyed if Papa murdered you. And we both would be very annoyed if you murdered my father. So tell me what the problem is, and I’ll see if I can somehow help.”

  “I suspect it has to do with the fact that I was a privateer during the war,” he said reluctantly.

  “You mean you held a letter of marque? So did many merchants d
uring the war, including my father.”

  “No, I was a privateer. That’s not the same thing as an armed merchantman. You do know the difference, do you not?”

  She scowled at him. “I am Anthony Barnett’s daughter. Of course I know.”

  “Then you also know that privateering vessels are bigger, faster, and armed to the teeth. For the most part, they are made to attack enemy commerce. Vessels like those of Nightingale Trading are mostly armed for defensive purposes and still focus on trade. If an opportunity to seize an enemy prize presents itself…”

  “They take it.”

  “Yes,” he said. “But in smaller numbers than privateers.”

  “But both you and Papa hold letters of marque. They empowered you to act on behalf of the Crown, did they not?”

  He nodded.

  “Then what am I missing?” she asked.

  Roman stared into the distance, although the only thing the distances displayed were clipped shrubbery and more rosebushes.

  “There are those who believe privateers are little better than pirates.”

  “Like my father?”

  He shrugged. “He’s rather a high stickler.”

  Papa wasn’t, but she let the point go. “And are you a pirate, Captain Cantrell?”

  “Of course not.”

  “No, you’re the son of a royal duke. As far as I can tell, neither your father nor your uncles are pirates, either.”

  “No, just rascals and reprobates.”

  “That’s hardly your fault, either.” She exhaled an exasperated sigh. “It hardly seems fair of Papa to hold your service to England against you when he did something similar.”

  “Things tended to get a bit bloodier on privateering vessels. It wasn’t always pleasant.”

  “From what I understand, war never is,” she said. “I still don’t think my father should hold it against you.”

  “He might not agree.”

  “Sir—”

  “He’s just trying to protect you, Miss Barnett,” he said firmly. “I don’t blame him.”

  She much preferred it when he called her Antonia. Roman had obviously decided to retreat into formality again.

  “You mean he’s over-protecting me.” She studied him for a moment, and then decided to risk it. “Actually, I suspect Papa’s behaving so badly because he fears I’ve developed feelings for you.”

  Roman looked as stunned as if she’d slapped him.

  “And have you developed such feelings?”

  Antonia pressed a modest hand to her chest. “As if I would ever be so bold as to reveal my feelings for any gentlemen.”

  The slow smile that parted his lips was both genuine and warm. It made her toes curl with pleasure.

  “I’ve noticed that you’re a pattern card of modest behavior,” he teased.

  “As are you, my dear sir.”

  “I do try. Ask anyone.”

  She had to laugh but quickly sobered. “Truly, sir, I am sorry my father is so frosty with you. I’m sure if he had the chance to know you, things would be different.”

  “And do you think you know me, Antonia?” he asked in a tone that muddled her insides.

  “I think so,” she whispered.

  He bridged the gap between them, coming close. “Could you be more specific?”

  His dark gaze roamed over her face, seeming to linger on her mouth.

  I think I want you to kiss me.

  No, she knew she wanted to kiss him. From the look in his eyes, Roman wanted the same thing. He lowered his head, only inches from her lips.

  “What the hell is going on out here?” roared a voice from the terrace.

  Antonia almost fell over, but Roman quickly rose, moving in front of her chair as if to shield her.

  Papa.

  She stood and stepped around her misguided protector.

  “Antonia,” Roman started.

  “Trust me, you’ll just make things worse.”

  She pinned on a smile, composing herself while her father charged across the lawn. Mamma and Lady Hunter scampered in his wake, unable to keep up with his ground-eating strides.

  “Good afternoon, Papa,” she said as he stormed up. “I didn’t realize you’d be joining us this afternoon.”

  “Clearly not, since you and your mother lied about where you were going.”

  “No, I don’t believe we did.” Not unless one counted lies of omission.

  Her father stabbed a finger at Roman. “And, you. What the hell are you doing with my daughter?”

  “I should think it obvious,” Roman drawled. “I was ravishing her in the middle of my aunt’s rose garden, in broad daylight.”

  “Not helping,” she said, glaring over her shoulder at him.

  While Roman gave a casual shrug, she read tension in the set of his broad shoulders.

  Her father growled and tried to go around her. She slapped a restraining hand on his chest. “He’s just baiting you, Papa.”

  “Anthony, stop it this instant,” said Mamma as she puffed up. “There is no reason to cause a scene.”

  “Indeed not,” added Lady Hunter. “I had my eye on your daughter and my nephew the entire time.”

  “Then why the devil was he about to kiss her?” Papa barked.

  Antonia adopted an expression of wounded innocence. “Papa, as if I would ever behave in so immodest a fashion. How could you think that?”

  “I know what I saw,” her father replied.

  “I’m not sure how,” Mamma said. “You charged out before you even got a good look at them.” She cast Lady Hunter an apologetic glance. “Do accept my apology on my husband’s behalf, my lady. I’m mortified.”

  “As am I,” Antonia swiftly added. “It’s terribly embarrassing.”

  “Are you two really going to turn this around on me?” Papa asked.

  “Apparently so,” Roman said.

  Antonia was tempted to drive her heel into his shin. At this point, she wanted nothing more than to give both Roman and her father a good whack.

  “It’s very bright out here in the garden, Captain Barnett,” Lady Hunter calmly interceded. “Your vision was no doubt a bit dazzled when you stepped onto the terrace. Roman would never act inappropriately, I assure you.”

  Papa scoffed. “Are you sure about that? Because I am not.”

  “Papa, you’re embarrassing us,” Antonia said.

  “It’s all right, Miss Barnett,” Roman said. “I’m quite capable of defending myself.”

  “Of course you are, my dear,” Lady Hunter said. “But you’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” Papa said. “What I know for certain, however, is that I don’t want you anywhere near my daughter, Cantrell.”

  “I suppose you don’t think I’m good enough for her,” Roman said.

  “You’re not.”

  Lady Hunter’s gaze narrowed with irritation, and Mamma let out an aggrieved sigh.

  Antonia decided she’d had enough, too. “Papa, why are you being so difficult? This is ridiculous.”

  “Perhaps you should ask Cantrell. I’m sure he’d be happy to tell you why I find him so objectionable.”

  When Roman cursed under his breath, Lady Hunter intervened again.

  “There is nothing to tell, Captain Barnett,” her ladyship said in an austere voice. “Nothing.”

  Her father stared at Lady Hunter, clearly startled by her tone. She stared right back at him, as if daring him to raise more objections.

  “Papa, it might be wise to remember that our hostess is also Griffin Steele’s mother,” Antonia said, trying another tack.

  “I’m not afraid of Steele, Antonia. Or of Cantrell.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Mamma said, exasperated. “Lady Hunter, please forgive us, but I think it’s best we make our farewells. Come along, Anthony.” She gave a hard yank on her husband’s sleeve.

  He threw one last angry look at Roman, then allowed his wife to tug him away.

  “I’m so
sorry,” Antonia said miserably. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

  “It’s not your fault, my dear,” said Lady Hunter, patting her shoulder. “Your papa is clearly not himself.”

  “You’d better go, Miss Barnett,” Roman said. “If your father comes back, I cannot answer for the consequences.”

  She took in his grim expression, then nodded and hurried after her parents.

  Chapter Four

  * * *

  Roman shifted on the small padded chair so he could sweep his gaze around the dark tent. It was already packed, with only the center ring ablaze with torchlight and free of the jostling crowd. The prizefight between Emperor and King was a massive draw. The fact that it was thoroughly illegal hadn’t stopped droves of Londoners from attending, including a smattering of females.

  It was just the sort of madcap adventure Antonia Barnett was likely to favor, so he breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn’t there. Of course, after that humiliating scene in Camberwell, she probably hoped to never cross paths with him again.

  “You’re as nervous as a cabin boy in his first storm,” said the Duke of Clarence in a humorous tone. “Everything will be fine.”

  Roman looked askance at his father. “We’re attending an illegal bout, sir. It’s attracted every pickpocket and bounder in London, along with some of the Whitechapel and Covent Garden gangs. I cannot imagine what the Regent was thinking when he decided to grace this little event.”

  “He was thinking it would be a jolly good time and a splendid opportunity for a wager. Your uncle and I stand to make a tidy sum betting on Gunnery’s man. None of his chaps ever lose.”

  Godrick Gunnery, a former champion himself, was coaching the talented young fighter nicknamed Emperor. Gunnery’s presence was a substantial draw, as was that of Gentleman Jackson to officiate the fight. At least with Jackson in charge, the match should be fair.

  “True, but since the Duke of Vauxhall’s gang is running the wagers, I have a feeling your chances are considerably diminished. In fact, I suspect highway robbery is the most likely outcome.”

  “Not with all these Bow Street Runners mucking about the place. Plus, Devonshire’s men are keeping an eye on things. There will be no cheating or stealing, I assure you.”