Duke of Secrets (Moonlight Square, Book 2)

by Gaelen Foley

  She stood in the doorway, heart pounding, ignoring the fact that she was letting the cold in as she wondered what all this was about. Her father followed but commanded the rest of the family to stay back.

  “Do you know these people, Papa?” she asked as the earl marched up beside her.

  “No. Do you?”

  She shook her head in confusion.

  “You should get back inside.”

  “No, please—I’m sure this must have something to do with Azrael.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he grumbled.

  As soon as the carriage halted in front of Dunhaven Manor, the door opened and out jumped an extremely handsome young man with golden hair and bright blue eyes.

  “Good morning!” he called, striding toward them, his greatcoat trailing out behind him, tapping his hat cheerfully against a muscled thigh.

  Neither answered, staring at him.

  Serena felt sure she knew the fellow—she could’ve sworn she had danced with him at a ball or two at some point, but she couldn’t place him. Surely he was a member of the ton, though. He had a gentlemanly bearing and moved with the grace of an expert swordsman.

  “I’m terribly sorry for the intrusion at such an early hour,” he said with easy charm while his comrades waited on their horses. He came up to the door and bowed to them.

  “Lord Dunhaven, Lady Serena. Please do not be alarmed. We’ve been sent to assist you. And I made a solemn vow to your fiancé that I’d deliver this as soon as I saw you.” He reached into his waistcoat and pulled out a letter, presenting it to Serena with a flourish.

  “Thank you!” She snatched it gleefully out of his hand, but paused, wrinkling her forehead. “Don’t I know you?”

  “What? You don’t remember? My lady, you wound me,” he said with a wicked little laugh.

  “Viscount Beauchamp!” she exclaimed, remembering all of a sudden. “Of course. Oh my goodness. You’re with the Order?”

  “What Order?” he said meaningfully.

  “I see.” She could only shake her head. “I can’t believe it. You always seemed like such a scoundrel.”

  “Merely doing my duty, mademoiselle. And yet it does seem to come rather naturally to me.” He winked.

  She couldn’t help but chuckle. No doubt his skill at putting people at ease with humor probably helped him a great deal as a spy. Serena stepped back out of the doorway, gesturing at the entrance. “Would you like to come in?”

  Papa growled, however. “I’d rather you explain your visit first.”

  “Of course, my lord.” Beauchamp looked from one to the other, the playfulness vanishing at once from his cobalt eyes. “Things are about to get very interesting in London, and it has been determined that Lady Serena’s participation in the mission is essential.”

  Her eyebrows shot upward.

  Beauchamp addressed Papa. “My superiors request that you bring your daughter to Town, sir. Two of my men will remain here to protect your family. The rest will escort you and Lady Serena safely to London.”

  Her heart lifted the moment he said she’d be going back to Azrael.

  With that, she broke the wax seal on his letter and eagerly read the few lines he’d written. It merely contained a simple assurance that she could trust these men and that the plan was in motion.

  “We’ve provided the young lady with a new chaperone until all this is over,” Beauchamp continued. “A Mrs. Fisher. She is thoroughly respectable, and also quite deadly with a knife. Once you leave your daughter in her care, we strongly encourage you to remove your kinswoman from Town and bring her back here with you.”

  “You want me to leave my daughter by herself with you people?”

  Beauchamp blinked at Papa’s hostile tone. “And her future husband.”

  The spy renewed his efforts to put them at ease: “I assure you, sir, many measures have already been put into place to keep your daughter safe for the duration. You won’t see us, but we’ve got Moonlight Square locked down like a fortress, especially your house and your future son-in-law’s.

  “In any case, this should all be over soon. Rivenwood is helping us see to that. As soon as Lady Serena has played her part, she may either return here, or you and your family may join her in Town. Until then, it wouldn’t be safe for you all to be there. It’s not entirely clear yet what the enemy’s current numbers are, and we don’t wish to dilute our protective detail trying to cover you all, when the rest of you don’t need to be there.”

  “I don’t like this,” Mama said, arriving at the doorway.

  Beauchamp nodded to her. “My lady. You needn’t fear, truly. The Order’s accustomed to protecting kings and all manner of important persons under threat, both here at home and on the Continent.”

  “You see, Papa?” Serena said, then nodded at Lord Beauchamp. “I’ll go fetch my things.” In truth, she’d been packed to return to London for days.

  But the earl had still said nothing.

  “Are you willing, my lord?”

  “Humph. If you need her to help bring that blackguard Stiver and his cronies to justice, of course. You’ve got my help, too, if you want it.”

  “George, no!” the countess said. “I will not permit this—for either of you! I’ve already lost one daughter.”

  “Mama, they need my help,” Serena said.

  “Hmm.” Papa glanced at his lady, then turned back to Lord Beauchamp. “My wife is right. We can’t go through that again. What if something goes wrong?”

  “Papa, it won’t. I’m not afraid!”

  “Er, not to put too fine a point on it, sir, I do suggest you comply,” Beauchamp said. “You see, the only reason the Order’s overlooking your past participation in this group, and your wife’s, is because it was one of Rivenwood’s conditions for working with us, and because of your daughter’s unique ability to help bring the matter to a close.

  “I’m afraid that some in my organization wished to see you prosecuted, but your family being left alone was one of the points on which Rivenwood would not budge. I, er, regret to inform you that if you refuse to allow your daughter to assist us—given your own past dealings with this group—it would be viewed as obstructing the investigation, and we would need to look more closely at you. And your wife.”

  Papa growled, but that was all he needed to hear. Nobody would interrogate his Mariah.

  “Fine. She’ll do it. Go fetch your things, girl.”

  “George!” the countess said.

  “Please, Mama. Don’t fret. I want to help. Of course we’ll come,” Serena told Lord Beauchamp.

  His sunny smile returned. “Excellent.”

  “Would you like to come inside?” Serena asked, gesturing to the entrance hall.

  “Thank you, don’t mind if I do.” Beauchamp turned and signaled to his men before stepping over the threshold.

  Three of the riders dismounted, while the armed groom climbed down from the coach.

  Papa closed the door behind the viscount.

  “Can’t I help instead of my daughter?” Mama said.

  “Mariah!” the earl said.

  “No, ma’am,” Beauchamp replied. “It’s Rivenwood himself who is their chief interest. They seem to think he’s some sort of chosen one. Lady Serena’s role is essential, since the duke is betrothed to her. There’s also the fact that she is the current leader’s natural daughter. Lord Stiver wants to meet the young lady.”

  “No!” cried the countess.

  “I’m not afraid, Mama,” Serena said. “I’m his daughter; he’s not going to hurt me. Believe me, if there’s some way I can help to bring these blackguards down, then I will do it. Azrael needs me. And besides,” she touched her mother’s arm as she passed her on the way to the staircase, “I owe that monster for what he did to you.”

  Her mother said nothing more, seeing Serena would not be deterred in spite of any danger. Serena pounded up the steps to go and fetch her things. She didn’t care if any army of giants awaited her in Lo
ndon.

  Nothing could have prevented her from flying back to Azrael.

  # # #

  Many weary hours later, after yet another long, tedious carriage ride, the outline of London seeped into view in the distance, materializing out of the drizzly afternoon fog.

  Serena sat up and peered eagerly as the spires and St. Paul’s famous dome emerged from the gray autumnal gloom. The tiny orange lights of Town glowed like welcoming beacons, and Serena started fixing her hair and freshening her mouth with a mint confectionary drop, knowing she would soon see her favorite neighbor again.

  In actuality, though, it took the better part of another hour before they pulled into Moonlight Square.

  His letter had instructed them to come to his house first, since it was now well protected by the Order. There, he would apprise them of the latest developments.

  Beauchamp had parted ways with them halfway through the journey to embark on some task he was not at liberty to explain, but Serena wondered if she’d get to meet more of the Order agents when they arrived. Would they be mean to her, she wondered, because of her Promethean connections?

  It wasn’t her fault Lord Stiver was her natural father. She was just barely getting used to that fact herself. But however the Order’s people might treat her, it didn’t really matter.

  There was only one man in this whole city of a million souls that she cared about seeing, and the moment she got out of the coach, she ran straight into his arms.

  He embraced her, standing on the pavement outside his house in Moonlight Square.

  They hugged each other hard for a long moment. She gloried in the solidity of him, safe and sound, the smell of him.

  “I missed you,” Azrael whispered, then gave her a quick kiss—but only on the forehead, since Papa climbed out of the coach just a step behind her.

  Azrael greeted his future father-in-law stiffly, looking braced for another possible attack. “Sir,” he greeted him, offering a bow.

  “Rivenwood,” Papa grumbled.

  Azrael gestured toward his front door. “Won’t you both come in?”

  Serena took hold of her fiancé’s arm and did not let go as he led them into his house. Papa glanced around, brow furrowed, at its gothic interior, but if he thought that was strange, she wondered what he would’ve said about the leopard.

  All business, Azrael presented several more of the military-looking foot soldiers of the Order, who he said would be posing as his servants until this matter was settled. They would also be protecting Serena.

  She gathered these were not the elite agents, like Lord Beauchamp, that his letter had hinted were assisting him behind the scenes, but the Order’s hired muscle.

  Whoever they were, she was glad to have them on hand, for after perusing the contents of that snakeskin box, she no longer doubted the extent of the Prometheans’ wickedness.

  He then introduced her new chaperone—a tall, slim lady who appeared in her mid-thirties and claimed her name was Mrs. Fisher.

  The silent, eagle-eyed woman was an impressive personage; the Order’s henchmen treated her with deference, but Serena doubted she would ever know the real identity of the lady spy.

  “Are you an agent of the Order of St. Michael, too?” she whispered, rather in awe of the woman as Azrael led them all upstairs to the drawing room across from the ballroom.

  “No, darling,” the tall, worldly-looking Mrs. Fisher replied. “The lads are colleagues of mine, but their charter doesn’t allow women, you see. I belong to another service.” Mrs. Fisher gave her a sly wink, and Serena knew at once they would get along famously.

  Papa studied the lady spy, looking puzzled, as they all sat down in the faux-medieval drawing room.

  “May I offer you refreshments after your journey, Lord Dunhaven, Lady Serena?” Azrael asked, then turned to his butler, lurking near the doorway, apparently eager to be of service. “Grimsley?”

  “Oh, no thank you, I don’t want anything just now.” Serena caught the old fellow studying her with a doting look, which amused her greatly, since he had such a dour face. Aha, she thought, apparently the master had informed his top servant that she would soon be lady of the house.

  Serena sent Grimsley a smile, but when Papa and she declined the offer of food and drink, the butler bowed out, pulling the door shut after him.

  Then Azrael began explaining the plan as it now stood.

  Serena found it difficult to focus on the details he laid out when all she wanted to do was throw everyone out of the room and kiss him senseless on the couch. Indeed, aside from worrying about him, she’d thought of little else since they’d parted.

  Being near him now, seeing him unscathed, as promised, filled her with giddy joy. And other sensations—decidedly more carnal. She couldn’t stop staring at him; when he glanced over at her, as though feeling her lustful gaze, he seemed to lose his train of thought. His words trailed off.

  “You were saying?” Mrs. Fisher prompted.

  “Er, right.” Azrael gave Serena a quick, sternly playful glance that seemed to say Behave yourself, then refused to look at her again.

  Hmm, do I break your concentration, Your Grace? She hid her grin, but butterflies crashed about in her belly, and she could not stop her wayward imaginings as she envisioned undressing him piece by piece…

  Shifting in her chair, she forced herself to pay attention to the matter at hand as best she could. The long and short of it was that preliminary steps had already been taken.

  Azrael had been in contact with Lord Stiver and procured an invitation to bring Serena to his house so he could introduce her at last to her natural father. He had told him that they’d both found out about her true parentage. Stiver had merely chuckled over his years-long deception.

  “When he sees us together,” her lovely duke explained, “he’ll believe that I’ve come back to the fold in order to claim the bride who was to have been mine. The whole ton knows how beautiful Lady Serena is, after all.” He glanced at her, and she sat up straighter, beaming at his compliment.

  Gentlemen often said flattering things about her, but now only the words of one mattered.

  “Stiver will easily believe I returned to my heritage because of Serena,” Azrael continued, looking around at his audience.

  Papa listened, taking it all in, while the lady spy inspected her nails, as though she considered this child’s play. The Order’s foot soldiers stood against the walls dressed as footmen, their hands folded behind their backs, feet planted wide.

  “When I tell him that Lady Serena and I are to be married, that will make Lord Stiver very happy. It will help restore his trust in me, since I have ignored the lot of them for years. Once he lets his guard down, I’ll make sure he reveals his guilt to the Order in a way that leaves him hoisted by his own petard. Any questions?”

  Dunny held up a finger.

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “Not sure I like you lot using my daughter for bait.”

  “Neither do I,” Azrael admitted. “But her role in this will be minimal—”

  “I’m not afraid,” she interrupted.

  Azrael’s eyes glowed silver as he sent her a brief smile. “I knew you wouldn’t be, my lady. If I had any doubt in your mettle, I would never have agreed to it myself.

  “Unfortunately, Lord Dunhaven,” Azrael continued, “your daughter is the key to my getting back into Stiver’s good graces. Only by doing so can I get close enough to the blackguard and his current group of henchmen so we can take them down.”

  “That sounds dangerous,” Serena murmured.

  “It is, dear,” Mrs. Fisher said with a smile. “That’s what makes it fun.”

  “Well, don’t go getting yourself killed and breakin’ her heart before the wedding,” Dunny grumbled at his future son-in-law.

  “Ah, don’t worry, Lord Dunhaven,” Mrs. Fisher assured him in a breezy tone. “My associates and I will keep them both safe as houses. Now then, if we’re quite through here?” She rose in her tig
ht black gown, and, politely, the men did the same.

  “I have nothing further at the moment,” Azrael said with a shrug.

  Papa nodded, satisfied with the plan they had concocted. “In that case, think I’ll pop across the square to take my leisure for an hour or two at home before I’m back out on the road again with Tamsin.”

  On Lord Beauchamp’s advice, Papa had already decided not to stay the night in London, but to turn right around again and start the journey back to Mama and the boys, post-haste. After making sure Serena was settled in with her temporary chaperone and army of protectors, he wanted to get back to his wife and sons, who could also come under threat once the plot was fully in motion.

  In any case, it was not unusual to travel overnight; the stagecoach lines did it all the time so that passengers could doze on the way and wake up in the morning at their destinations.

  Papa headed for the dark oaken door of Azrael’s sitting room. “Come along, Serena.”

  Mrs. Fisher and two of the no-nonsense Order guards duly followed Papa down to the entrance, but Serena lingered in the drawing room, glancing at Azrael in raw frustration at having to leave him again so soon.

  They hadn’t even been given a moment alone.

  He took her hands in that brief moment while her father and their new entourage waited for her in the entrance hall.

  “I’ll see you later this evening,” he whispered, and gave her a chaste peck on the cheek. Even so, she quivered when he leaned near.

  She gripped his hands harder, wanting them on her. “I can hardly wait,” she said, giving him a meaningful look.

  “Serena!” Papa boomed from the entrance hall.

  “Coming!” She hurried off to join them.

  Then Papa and she, along with their trio of discreetly armed protectors, went across Moonlight Square to the Dunhaven residence, where Serena was reunited with Cousin Tamsin. Mama had written to her a week ago to let her know that Serena had made it to Dunhaven Manor without incident, but, of course, she had not yet told her cousin the whole story. Only a fool would entrust such scandalous secrets to the mail. Besides, Serena wasn’t sure her kinswoman’s nerves could’ve handled it, so that was no doubt for the best.