The Dark Duke

by Landon, Laura

  “Where has she gone, Jules?”

  “Her driver has stopped in front of the Marquit Shipping Concern.”

  Sterling clamped his teeth tight and took several breaths. Damn! Surely she knew Marquit’s reputation!

  “A gentleman’s come out to escort her to the door, Your Grace. But at least today it seems as if her driver intends to wait for her. He hasn’t driven away. She must have been in a hurry when she left her home, sir, because she didn’t bring her lady’s maid with her.”

  Sterling felt his temper rise another notch. What was wrong with her that she would allow herself to be alone with someone of Marquit’s reputation?

  “Inform me when she exits.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  He pulled his watch fob from his waistcoat pocket and checked the time. Twenty past ten o’clock. The gold timepiece had been passed down to him from his father. It was the same watch that had been passed down by his father’s father. It kept wonderfully reliable time—blast it!

  He tucked the watch back into his pocket. It promised to be an agonizingly long day.

  Sterling leaned back against the rich leather squabs and stared at the red velvet that lined the inside of his carriage. Actually, glare would have been a more accurate description of what he was doing, because he hardly noticed the velvet lining. Instead, he envisioned several scenarios that involved Amanda Radburn and the Earl of Marquit. Each one of which was more shockingly disgraceful than the last.

  He pulled out his watch again and pressed against the small raised circle that opened the engraved lid. Ten twenty-five.

  He closed the lid and slid the watch back into his pocket. “Is anything happening, Jules?”

  “Not that I can see. Would you like me to take a closer look?”

  Sterling’s interest suddenly soared. “Can you get closer without being seen?”

  “I’m sure I can, Your Grace.”

  “Then yes. Go.”

  The carriage shifted when Jules dropped to the ground. Sterling wanted to look out the window, but knew it would be a waste. The only view the window afforded him was a close-up look at the bricks on the buildings on either side of him.

  He leaned back against the cushions and crossed his arms over his chest. So help him, if Marquit harmed her, he’d kill him. If the rogue so much as threatened her, he’d do everything in his power to ruin him. If the no-good blackguard—

  Sterling bolted forward when he heard Jules’s footsteps clomp along the wooden boardwalk. “Is she all right?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I think she is.”

  “You think?”

  “Yes, Your Grace. I mean, no, Your Grace. I’m sure she is.”

  “Did you see her?”

  “Yes. She was inside the Marquit Shipping office.”

  “Was Marquit with her?”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Well, what were they doing?”

  “I’m not sure, Your Grace. I think they were...”

  “Were what, man?”

  “Fighting, Your Grace. I think there may have been a disagreement.”

  A series of warning shots pummeled him in the gut and he pushed himself toward the door. He needed to get to her. And fast.

  “There’s no need to interfere, Your Grace. Other than seeming a little frazzled, the lady seems to be all right.”

  “Frazzled?”

  “Yes, she looked to have lost her bonnet and was attempting to put it back on. But she didn’t seem to have much success with only one hand.”

  “Why did she only have one hand to put her bonnet back on?”

  “I’m not sure, Your Grace. I couldn’t possibly have seen correctly.”

  “Seen what correctly?”

  “What the lady had in her other hand.”

  “What did you think you saw in her hand, Jules?”

  The footman hesitated a moment, then uttered the two words Sterling was afraid Jules was going to say.

  “A gun, Your Grace. She had a gun pointed at the Earl of Marquit.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Sterling didn’t wait for his driver to finish his sentence before he jumped to the ground. Without caring how he must appear, he raced toward Marquit’s office and threw open the door. Marquit’s terror-filled gaze locked with his.

  “Get her out of here!” Marquit screamed.

  His voice seemed to have raised at least one octave, perhaps two, and Sterling stopped short to take in the situation.

  His driver had been right. The lady was indeed standing a few feet from the Earl of Marquit with a gun in one hand, while attempting to return her bonnet to her head with the other.

  Her hair seemed slightly mussed, as if there’d been a struggle. As if Marquit had attempted to take advantage of her and she’d had to fight him off.

  “She’s crazy, Hadleigh! Take that blasted gun away from her before she shoots someone.”

  Sterling took two leisurely steps toward where Amanda stood with the gun she’d pointed at him just last night. The same gun that was now pointing at the Earl of Marquit.

  Her outstretched hand shook noticeably. Sterling understood why Marquit was concerned.

  “Are you afraid that someone might be you, Marquit?”

  “Yes! The woman’s crazy! Take that gun away from her!”

  Sterling turned his head and his gaze locked with Amanda’s. Her blue eyes seemed darker. From the excitement, no doubt. But he recognized something more. Anger, perhaps. Or…fear.

  Something deep inside him clenched. Surely not concern for her. Surely not something more personal. He wouldn’t take time right now to evaluate the feeling—perhaps he never would. Because he wasn’t sure he wanted to face the emotion that formed inside him.

  “May I be of help, my lady?” He kept his tone mild, his voice soft. He knew how easy it was for her to become defensive where he was concerned, and this wasn’t the time or the place for her to feel threatened.

  He held out his hand, hoping she’d accept his offer and release the gun. Thankfully, her trembling hand moved and she placed the gun in his open palm.

  With a cry of relief, Marquit slumped into his chair. “She’s crazy, I tell you! And I intend to make sure everyone knows she is!”

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort, Marquit.” Sterling placed the gun Amanda had given him in his pocket, then wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her when she swayed against him.

  “I will! She’s a menace to Society!”

  Sterling’s gaze narrowed and he focused a hostile glare on Marquit. “If even one word of what happened here today reaches the ears of one member of Society, I’ll see you ruined.”

  “Me! She’s the one who should be locked away.”

  “I’m not sure that’s how the Marquess of Tolsgate will see it once I explain that you attacked Lady Amanda and would have done her grievous harm had I not come to her rescue. Rumor has it that he’s quite protective of his daughter. As you’ve been mentioned as a frontrunner for his daughter’s hand, I’d be very careful what tales reach Tolsgate’s ears.”

  “How dare you,” Marquit spit out. “That’s not at all—”

  “Enough! The lady made an error in judgment,” Sterling announced. “Nothing more.”

  “Well, what was I supposed to think? What lady with any breeding would travel to the docks? And without a chaperone?”

  “You were supposed to think the obvious. That Lady Amanda is considering acquiring stock in a shipping venture and came to you for advice. Instead of answering her questions, you took advantage of her naiveté and attacked her.”

  “But that’s not—”

  Sterling lifted himself to his full height and Marquit stopped mid-sentence. “Of…of course, Your Grace,” he stuttered. “I realize I made a grave error.”

  “Very wise, Marquit. The lady accepts your apology.”

  Sterling expected a reaction from Amanda. The Amanda he’d battled last night would have objected to him speaking for her. She wouldn
’t have been nearly so forgiving. In fact, he wouldn’t have been surprised to hear her demand Marquit’s head on a platter. But that didn’t happen. Instead, she remained uncommonly quiet.

  That was his first warning that something wasn’t quite right.

  Sterling lowered his gaze and noticed several things when he looked down at her. The most noticeable was the lack of color to her face. She was as pale as if she hadn’t seen sunlight for months. And there was a strange hollowness in her eyes, as if it was impossible for her to focus on her surroundings. And, for the first time since he’d met her years ago, she seemed…vulnerable.

  The change frightened him.

  Sterling gave Marquit a sharp nod, then tightened the grip around Amanda’s waist and turned her toward the door. He needed to get her away from here soon. He needed to get her alone so he could see how deeply she’d been affected by what had happened with Marquit.

  Surely Marquit hadn’t done more than make untoward advances? Surely things hadn’t gone that far?

  He led her into the sunshine, then escorted her to his carriage. She wasn’t in any condition to go home by herself.

  “Send the lady’s driver home, Jules. Tell him the lady will ride with me.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  Sterling handed Amanda into his carriage, then entered and sat beside her. He thought she might need someone to sit close to her—although he doubted he would be her first choice under ordinary circumstances. Except these weren’t ordinary circumstances.

  His driver returned a short time later and the carriage lurched forward.

  “Amanda?” Sterling whispered, not quite sure what to say. “Are you all right?”

  Her head nodded in jerky movements.

  “Did Marquit… I mean, he didn’t...hurt you, did he?”

  She shook her head.

  That was when he noticed.

  Her body trembled like a leaf in the wind, and her teeth chattered as if she’d spent the last several hours in the freezing cold without a cloak.

  He removed his coat and placed it around her shoulders, then placed his arm around her and pulled her toward him. He waited for her to pull away from him—but she didn’t. Instead, she nestled closer to him and buried her face against his chest.

  Sterling held her more securely. She needed comforting. She needed—

  Her body shook and her hand rose to swipe at her eyes. She was crying. The strong, willful, indomitable, Lady Amanda Radburn was crying. Whatever had happened in Marquit’s office had affected her more than he thought anything could.

  Sterling experienced an unfamiliar fear. He’d never seen this side of her. He didn’t think anything could crack the invincible armor that protected her. But something had.

  “Amanda?” he whispered. “Talk to me.”

  She shook her head.

  “Yes, tell me what happened.” Sterling held her close and rubbed lazy circles against her back. Her tense muscles told him how desperately she was trying to gather control. He also knew she was failing.

  “Amanda,” he whispered again, then placed his finger beneath her chin and pressed upward.

  Her head slowly lifted and one heavy tear, then another, trickled down her cheeks.

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and wiped away the tears. She tried to smile, but failed.

  The look of helpless fear in her tear-filled eyes was his undoing. Before he could evaluate his actions, he lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers.

  He told himself he only kissed her because he thought it would comfort her. But that was a lie. The moment his lips touched hers, all coherent thought evaporated. He couldn’t think of anything but how desperately he wanted her.

  She must have felt the same. With the slightest bit of encouragement, she countered his kisses with a desperation as intense as his.

  They shared one kiss, then another, each encounter deepening with emotion. Sterling couldn’t say which one of them was the giver, and which the taker in their exchange. They both seemed equally demanding, each searching for a release to emotions they’d suppressed far too long. Emotions that had come to life the first time they’d kissed.

  A voice inside him issued the order for him to stop kissing her, but he didn’t heed the warning until the carriage turned a corner and slowed.

  “The carriage has stopped,” she said, breaking their kiss.

  She tried to pull out of his arms but he wouldn’t allow her to move. “Talk to me, Amanda. What happened back there that upset you so? Did Marquit—”

  “No…Yes.” She slowly lifted her head and looked at him. “He was hurting me and I told him to stop.” She swallowed hard. “But he wouldn’t. So I reached for my gun, and…” She closed her eyes and fresh tears fell from her eyes. “I would have killed him, Hadleigh. I was ready to pull the trigger.”

  She buried her head back against his chest and shuddered.

  “I’m not sure I could live with myself if I killed another human being,” she whispered.

  “You’re playing a very dangerous game, Amanda. Don’t you think it’s time you told me what this is all about?”

  “I’d—”

  For several long moments, she didn’t move, then she shook her head and pulled out of his arms. “I have to go.”

  She moved toward the door and he had no choice but to dismount to assist her.

  She took his hand and stepped onto the street. He knew she was still badly shaken, but she refused to allow him to escort her to the door. Instead, she took several steps away from him before she stopped and turned.

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” she said, then walked to the door.

  Hadleigh watched her disappear into the house and wondered for the hundredth time since she’d walked back into his life what was wrong with him. But as usual, he didn’t want to evaluate the possibilities too closely.

  CHAPTER 7

  Amanda looked around Lady Prosser’s ballroom. Her head pounded. Her patience was gone. And she was hard-pressed to come up with answers to the nagging questions that plagued her both night and day. She was running out of titled earls.

  There was the Earl of Coffingdon, but he was nearing eighty and remembered more about what happened twenty years ago than twenty minutes ago.

  Then, there was the Earl of Dunsmore, who had recently married Regina Pluckingdon. But his family wasn’t involved in shipping so she knew it was futile to investigate him. Besides, he and Regina were so in love Amanda doubted he could concentrate on anything other than his new wife and setting up his nursery.

  Then, there was the Earl of Lambert, and the Earl of Flanders. Both of them were possibilities, but she couldn’t imagine either of them being involved in anything illegal. They were mild-mannered individuals who would eventually inherit their fathers’ titles and have at their disposal unimaginable wealth.

  Once she eliminated them, she was at the end of possibilities. Unless she’d overlooked something the Earls of Stanwich or Marquit were hiding.

  She dreaded the idea of having to return to either shipping office to search through their files. Not only had she come face to face with a certain degree of danger her daring caused her, but she was running out of the freedom it required to complete her investigation—thanks to the Duke of Hadleigh.

  Since he’d witnessed her encounter with the Earl of Marquit, he was relentless in his attempts to stop her. If only she could escape his watchful eye for two or three more nights. Surely she’d find something by then.

  She stepped into one of the half dozen or so recessed alcoves that lined the long, narrow ballroom and checked the crowded room. There was no sign of him yet, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t arrive soon. He seemed to constantly plague her. It was as if now that he didn’t have a sister to be concerned over, he’d targeted her to be Celie’s replacement.

  She had no delusions as to why, either. And she refused to consider that it might be because of the kisses they’d shared. Those were both mistakes�
�monumental mistakes, and she had no intention of ever repeating them again. Their first kiss had been unavoidable. It had been the perfect ruse to escape being detected by the guard. But last night…

  Amanda closed her eyes and tried to forget the feel of Hadleigh’s lips against hers. She wasn’t sure she understood why he kissed her. Maybe he felt sorry for her because she was crying. Maybe he couldn’t think of another way to stop her tears. Maybe to make her more reliant. More dependent on him. More…

  …helpless.

  She ground her teeth and growled a very unladylike sound.

  Of course. That’s what this was all about. He needed someone to control. It was an addiction. Making decisions for someone; telling them what to do was an elixir he needed to survive. Controlling Celie’s every move fed his hunger for dominance, and for some reason she didn’t understand, he’d chosen her to be Celie’s replacement. Well, he had a big surprise coming.

  She wasn’t Celie. She wouldn’t allow anyone to control her. She refused to be dominated—by anyone. Especially the Duke of Hadleigh.

  She stole a glance at Lambert and Flanders—her next targets. They stood together amidst a circle of associates, and from the sober expressions on several of the men, the subject of their conversation was no doubt politics. That seemed to be the only topic that interested the male gender.

  She was anxious to speak with them, but she’d learned a valuable lesson from her encounter with Marquit and Stanwich. Companionship gave the male species a confidence they didn’t possess when alone. She wouldn’t make that mistake again. From now on it would be a one-on-one confrontation.

  She took one small step from the alcove and focused her attention on Flanders and Lambert. The minute the Earl of Flanders separated himself from the larger group she readied herself to intercept him.

  She waited, then—

  “Good evening, Lady Amanda.”

  She turned with a gasp and found herself mere inches from the Duke of Hadleigh’s muscular chest.

  “Are you enjoying Lady Prosser’s function? She’s reputed to host an exceptional—”

  “Oh!” Amanda clasped her hand to her chest to prevent her heart from leaping to her throat. “What are you doing here?”