The Dark Duke

by Landon, Laura

  “Go, Jules!”

  “Was that a gunshot?”

  The carriage lurched forward and Hadleigh sat back against the cushion.

  “Was it?”

  “Yes. Does that surprise you?”

  “Yes. No. I mean—”

  “I should have known whatever you were involved in wasn’t simple—or safe.”

  “I didn’t ask for your help!”

  She was frightened. She’d known there was a possibility that this could get dangerous. But she’d hoped she could discover the identity of the earl whose shipping company owned the Calliope Anne, and what Harry had discovered that had nearly got him killed before the person behind it realized what she was doing.

  “I don’t know why you couldn’t have minded your own business.” She slammed her fist on the seat beside her. “I was doing fine until you decided to get involved.”

  “Fine?” he bellowed. “Someone just shot at us!”

  “I’m certain it was a mistake.”

  His brows shot up in an arch of incredulity. “I assure you, my lady, it was no mistake. A guard no doubt fired at us because he saw you breaking into the Kroften Imports shipping office.”

  Amanda wanted to argue, but thought it was safer to let Hadleigh think that the gunshot came from a night watchman. Instead, she sat back against the plush squabs of the duke’s carriage and gave him the angriest glare she could muster. It wasn’t until she was quiet that she realized how far the carriage had traveled away from the docks. And in what direction it was going. She looked out the window, then turned her gaze back to Hadleigh.

  “We’re not on the road that leads to my brother’s town house.”

  “That’s because you are not returning to your brother’s residence.”

  “What?” She darted a look out the window again. They were getting closer to Hadleigh House. “Surely you don’t think I intend to spend the night at your town house.”

  “Offering you shelter for the night is not a choice I make lightly, nor does it rank as one of the fifty choices I would make if I had another option. Unfortunately, it is the only choice you have left me.”

  “I have left you! I haven’t asked for shelter from you. I don’t want you to provide me shelter. And I will not accept shelter from you! Tell your driver to turn around this instant and take me to my brother’s town house.”

  “You’re not safe there.”

  “I’m safer there than I will be with you!”

  Hadleigh leveled her a hostile glare, made more menacing with each lamplight they passed. The breath he released resembled a growl. If she wasn’t familiar with his temper, she would have been terrified. But she was too angry to be terrified. And she’d battled his anger before. And won.

  He met her glare with one of his own. “If you are referring to our kiss earlier, that was a mistake I don’t intend to repeat. And, the minute we arrive, I’ll send a message to the Dowager Countess of Plummery. She resides across the street and will come directly. There’s no one in Society whose reputation is as unquestionable as hers.”

  Amanda lost the little composure she had left. “The Dowager Countess of Plummery? You can’t expect someone her age to get out at this time of night. It’s after midnight!”

  “The time is irrelevant.”

  Amanda wanted to argue further, but the carriage slowed, then came to a stop in front of Hadleigh House.

  The minute a footman opened the door and lowered the steps, Hadleigh stepped to the ground. He spoke a few words to the servant, then reached out to take her hand.

  “You don’t seriously expect me to spend the night under your roof,” she said, as she watched the servant rush across the street to where the Dowager Countess of Plummery lived with her son the earl, and his wife. “I’d rather spend the night in a den of lions.”

  “That can be arranged,” he answered in clipped tones. “The Zoo in Regents Park boasts a very fine specimen. It should be about feeding time, and rumor has it that lions are not overly particular about what they eat. They seem to enjoy even the toughest meat.”

  Amanda crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. “You are enjoying this, aren’t you?” she said, her tone as much an accusation as a question.

  “Actually, no. I’m not. I’m tired. I’m frustrated because you are involved in something that’s more dangerous than you can handle. And we’ve been shot at. What’s to enjoy about any of this?” He anchored his hand against the carriage and lowered his head as if in defeat. After a few moments, he shoved away from the carriage and focused on her. “Now, would you please exit my carriage before we draw the attention of every house on the street?”

  Amanda released a sigh of frustration. She didn’t have a choice. Not really. She had nothing to gain from refusing Hadleigh’s offer, and her reputation to lose if someone noticed her entering Hadleigh House minus a chaperone.

  Besides, she was frightened. And she was tired. She hadn’t slept more than a few hours each night. And tonight someone had shot at them. Or at her.

  Suddenly, she didn’t want to do anything but lay her head on a pillow and close her eyes. She wanted to sleep an entire night through without waking at every eerie creak Harry’s house made.

  For at least a few hours, she wanted to forget the danger she was in.

  She slid toward the carriage door and placed her hand in Hadleigh’s. His flesh was warm. He exhibited a strength she needed right now.

  She staggered slightly when her feet touched the ground, but he wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her, then escorted her to the house.

  She thought she heard him whisper the words little and fool, but she was suddenly too tired to care, or to argue with him about it. She leaned against him and walked up the steps and through the open door.

  “Have the staff ready two rooms, Barkley. One for Lady Amanda, and another for the Dowager Countess of Plummery. Lady Plummery should be arriving shortly.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “And send Nellie to help Lady Amanda. Lady Plummery will most likely bring her own lady’s maid.”

  The butler gave a sharp nod, then left to follow Hadleigh’s orders.

  Amanda refused to walk away from the door. “Please, reconsider this folly, Your Grace, and allow me to leave. I have no luggage, and—”

  “Cecelia did not take everything with her when she left. You are both of a size. Nellie will find something for you in her closet.”

  “Why are you—?”

  Hadleigh held up his hand. “It is late. You are hardly able to remain upright. We’re both past the point of arguing. We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “But I—”

  He turned at the opening of the front door. “Oh, good,” he said. “Here is Lady Plummery.”

  Hadleigh reached past her to where a footman opened the door, and took the Dowager Countess of Plummery’s hands in his. Her lady’s maid followed her inside. After the footman took Lady Plummery’s hat and cloak, Hadleigh raised her hands to his lips and kissed her white knuckles.

  “Thank you for coming at this late hour, my lady.”

  “Nonesense, Your Grace. We had just returned home from the Birmington affair and I had not yet retired. Besides, you know there is nothing you could ask of me I would not do. And gladly.”

  Hadleigh turned to his butler. “Barkley, show Lady Plummery’s maid to her room.”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  When the servants left, Hadleigh turned Lady Plummery to face Amanda. “Lady Plummery, Lady Amanda. Lady Amanda, Lady Plummery.”

  “Yes, Hadleigh,” the dowager countess said. “Lady Amanda and I are acquainted. She was a friend of your sister’s, was she not?”

  “Yes, my lady. A constant companion.”

  Amanda listened for a hint of derision in Hadleigh’s voice but didn’t hear anything resembling the scorn she usually heard when he spoke of her closeness to Celie. She must be more tired than she thought.

  “Lady Plummery,” Amand
a said in greeting. “Thank you for coming to my assistance, although I told His Grace I was perfectly capable of going home.”

  “And I disagreed,” Hadleigh interrupted. “When Lady Amanda arrived at her town house tonight, she seems to have surprised a burglar who’d broken into her home. I thought it best that she not stay there alone.”

  Amanda was surprised at the lie that seemed to come so easily from Hadleigh.

  “Oh, my goodness.” Lady Plummery looked shocked. “Bringing her here was the safest course of action. I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

  “Thank you,” Hadleigh said. He nodded toward the butler who quickly stepped forward. “Barkley’s here now and will show you to your room, my lady. We will talk more in the morning.”

  Amanda watched Lady Plummery slowly climb the stairs. When she thought Lady Plummery was safely out of hearing range, she turned to face Hadleigh. He held up his hand to indicate he wanted her to remain silent. When he was certain the dowager countess was safely in her room and they heard the door close behind her, he spoke.

  “May I suggest you retire for the night, too, Lady Amanda.”

  “Why are you—?”

  Hadleigh’s hand shot up again, only this time as fast as the slashing of a rapier going for the kill. His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. When he spoke, his voice contained none of the pleasantness she’d heard when he’d addressed Lady Plummery.

  “I am going to my study now and I’m going to open a bottle of my finest brandy. I don’t intend to leave the room until the bottle is empty. If you would like to join me, you are welcome. But I heartily advise against it. Before the bottle is half gone, I can guarantee I will no longer be responsible for anything I might say or…do.”

  Amanda’s jaw dropped, then she turned away from him. She paused when she reached the first step. “Good night, Your Grace.”

  There was no answer.

  Amanda continued her climb up the stairs. Before she reached her room, the door to Hadleigh’s study slammed loud enough to wake the dead.

  When her heart resumed beating, she walked up the remaining stairs as if being shot at was a normal occurrence.

  CHAPTER 9

  Sterling sat at the table the following morning, devouring the second helping of food on his plate and finishing his third cup of tea. Thankfully, Lady Plummery wasn’t up yet, and neither was Amanda. But he didn’t expect either of them to rise early, especially Amanda. From the lack of color to her features and the dullness in her eyes, she looked about ready to drop on her feet. He wondered how many weeks she’d gone without a decent night’s sleep.

  He’d intended to empty his bottle of brandy last night, but after his second glass, he’d lost his desire to wake up with a throbbing head and a thick tongue. Besides, he needed a clear mind today to get to the bottom of what was going on with Lady Amanda. She was difficult enough to battle when he could think clearly. Suffering from the effects of too much liquor would be disastrous.

  He rose from his place at the table and placed another slice of ham and a second coddled egg on his plate. When he turned from the side board, he stopped. Amanda stood in the doorway as if she wasn’t sure what kind of reception she would receive after their exchange last night.

  Her golden hair was loosely pulled back from her face, and delicate lavender ribbons were twined through the tresses. The lavender gown she wore was obviously one of Cecelia’s, but he didn’t remember having ever seen it before. It fit Amanda as if it had been made for her.

  Damn, but she was a beauty. His body reacted to tell him it agreed with what his eyes were seeing.

  He stared at her for a few long seconds, then placed his plate on the table and walked toward her. Although her features indicated that she’d gotten a good night’s sleep, a dark fear was still prevalent in her azure eyes.

  “Good morning, my lady.”

  “Your Grace.”

  “I trust you slept well.”

  “Very well, thank you. And you?”

  “I didn’t finish my bottle of brandy, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I thought perhaps not.”

  He cocked his head to the side and lowered his gaze to meet hers. “You did? May I ask why?”

  She hesitated before she answered. “It’s just that I can’t imagine anything—or anyone, driving you to indulge in such a mindless exercise.”

  “Even you?”

  She considered her answer for a moment, then smiled. “Well, perhaps me.”

  He couldn’t help but smile as he held out his arm to escort her into the room. He seated her at the table next to him, then went to the side board and filled a plate for her. When he set it down in front of her, he noticed she’d already taken a sip of the tea a servant had poured for her.

  He took his place at the table and nodded to Barkley for the servants to exit the room. He wanted to ask her some delicate questions, and he didn’t want the staff to overhear her answers. But first he’d allow her to eat her breakfast.

  He and Amanda ate in companionable silence. When he finished eating, he slid his plate away from him and sat back in his chair.

  “Do you have plans for today?” he asked her.

  “Actually, yes. I’m going to return home as soon as I’m finished. I just came down to tell you goodbye and to thank you for your kindness last night.”

  He lifted his tea to his mouth and took a sip. “And which home would that be, my lady. Your town house. Or your brother’s.”

  Her gaze lifted to lock with his. He held up his hand to stop her words before she spoke.

  “Your staff is worried about you, my lady. It seems you haven’t slept in your own bed in weeks. And when you return home, it’s not unusual for you to sleep a few hours before you rise again and leave.”

  “How did you—”

  “Your staff is very loyal. And concerned about you.”

  She loosened the grip on her fork and placed it beside her plate. “You had no right to interrogate my staff,” she said.

  The spark was back in her eyes and he knew she was on the verge of declaring war. He also knew that if there was any chance for him to help her out of this mess in which she was involved, he would have to make the first move toward a cease fire. And helping her was his goal. It was the only way he could get his sister back. And every day Cecelia was estranged from him, he realized how desperate he was to restore his relationship with her.

  “I did not interrogate your staff. I simply called on you one day before you’d returned, and your very worried maid assumed I was there to deliver grave news. It was at that point that she confided that she was terribly concerned about your safety.”

  Amanda looked down at her plate as if studying the food she’d left uneaten. “There’s no need for them to be concerned. I’ll assure them that everything is fine when I return.”

  “You are going to lie to them?”

  Her gaze lifted again. “I have no intention of lying.”

  “Then you can hardly tell them that everything is fine. Have you forgotten that someone shot at you last night?”

  She remained silent for a few moments, then whispered, “No, I haven’t forgotten. But—”

  Hadleigh lifted his hand. “You can’t continue on the path you’re taking, my lady. There are places that are not open to women, questions a woman cannot ask, people with whom a woman cannot, and should not associate. Let me help you.”

  “I don’t need your help. I’m perfectly capable of handling this on my own.”

  “You don’t know how I wish that were true,” he said before he had a moment to think how his words might sound to her.

  She studied him with the same look he’d seen so often before, the look that told him she’d erected a wall of defense and locked herself behind it. Her next words confirmed it.

  “Why are you so intent on interfering where you are not wanted? My affairs have never concerned you before. In fact, you went out of your way to ignore me. Why such interest now?”<
br />
  Her question caused him to pause. He couldn’t tell her the truth. He couldn’t let her know that he wouldn’t have interfered in the first place had Cecelia not asked him to. He couldn’t tell her that he would have let her reputation fall to ruin—and enjoyed watching her fall into disgrace—if Cecelia hadn’t asked him to look out for her friend. But most of all, he couldn’t let her know that he was using her as a means of restoring his family. The only family he had left.

  “Because I find I must,” he finally answered.

  “Then may I suggest that you find someone else to harass? Someone who truly needs your help.”

  She lifted the linen napkin from her lap and placed it on the table. With a heavy sigh, she rose from her chair and walked away from him. When she reached the door she stopped.

  With her hand on the knob, she turned to face him with a new resolve written on her face. “Thank you for the concern you’ve shown me, but your interference is no longer appreciated. Now, if I may have use of your driver and a carriage, I will take my leave.”

  Sterling rose. He crossed the distance that separated them with determined steps. When he reached her, he lifted his hand and braced his arm against the door. “I’m afraid you are going nowhere, my lady. I will not allow it.”

  A look of incredulity covered her face. “You will not allow it?”

  He knew his next sentence would be the shot that started the war. “No, and if it helps to bring home my point more clearly, you may consider yourself my prisoner.”

  . . .

  Amanda stared at the Duke of Hadleigh, certain that if she watched him long enough, he would laugh uproariously and tell her this was a joke. But she knew that wouldn’t happen. Hadleigh didn’t possess a sense of humor. He was incapable of telling jokes. And he seldom, if ever, laughed.

  “Did you just say that I was your prisoner?”

  “Yes. That is precisely what I said. Although not in the strictest sense of the word. I have no intention of locking you in your room with nothing to eat but bread and water.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear that,” she said, trying to sound as sarcastic as possible. “Because you and your staff would play hell trying to accomplish that.”