The Lady (The Dirty Heroes Collection Book 14)

by Golden Angel

  The Lady

  The Dirty Heroes Collection

  Golden Angel

  Contents

  The Dirty Heroes Collection

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Epilogue

  The Black Fox - Sneak Peek

  Prologue

  About the Author

  Also by Golden Angel

  Text copyright © 2020 Golden Angel

  Edited by Personal Touch Editing

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by Jay Aheer, www.simplydefinedart.com

  Formatting by Raven Designs

  Once upon a time, a scorned Queen opened a box, unleashing horrible evil on the world's heroes.

  Instead of gallantry and chivalry, they now possessed much more perverse traits. They’ve fallen victim to their darkest and most deviant desires.

  This is one of their stories...

  Blurb

  To stay safe in a world she's never known, this lady will pay a steep price...

  Adored. Cherished. Pampered. Lady Delilah Darling lives an enviable life. But when cruel hands drive her away from home and into the dangerous streets of London, she's suddenly frightened, vulnerable, and alone. Desperate for safety, Lady Delilah stumbles right into the arms of Henry Gaunt, the irresistible overlord of the London Underground.

  Known as The Tramp to his contemporaries, Henry rules his dark world with both charm and violence, bending the willing and breaking all others. Intent on claiming the newly fallen Lady Delilah for his own, Henry offers her protection for a price. Now Delilah is leashed. Claimed. Mastered. And as she accepts her fate as The Tramp's pet, she's left with one question: will she also be loved?

  Thank Yous!

  I have a lot of people to thank for helping me with this book:

  My amazing beta readers, who are invaluable in helping me catch mistakes, continuity issues, and working through problems with me. Katherine, Nick, Marie, Karen, Marta, Annie, Jessie, and Michelle – you all make these books so much better! Thank you for being such great cheerleaders, helping me with mistakes, continuity issues, and constantly asking questions.

  My husband for his continued loved and support.

  And, as always, a big thank you to all of you for buying and reading my work… if you love it, please leave a review!

  Prologue

  The Tramp

  Flesh met flesh with a meaty thunk.

  A howl of pain.

  Blood spurted.

  Henry Trampine examined the red liquid, streaking his knuckles, in the flicking, dim light of the tunnels.

  Hanging by his arms between two burly men, Cardinal Burr’s mouth and nose, poured blood down the front of his chest, dripping over his skin and hair, running in small rivulets to his stomach. His flaccid member hung between his legs, small and shriveled, barely visible under his rounded belly.

  “I’m sorry, Tramp,” the cardinal gasped. “I’m sorry... I’ll get you the money... I will...”

  Taller, more broad-shouldered than the average man, when Henry crouched down to the cardinal’s level, the other man still had to look up to meet his eyes. Bull and Frank, Henry’s left- and right-hand men, kept their tight grip on him. He was no match for either of them, but they never took chances.

  It was why Henry considered them his best men.

  “I know you will, Cardinal,” he replied, his voice low and calm, almost reassuring. The cardinal shuddered. “This is your final warning.”

  Standing back up, he jerked his head, and Bull and Frank started dragging the man away, still spouting promises. Pulling a rag from the inside of his jacket, Henry wiped the blood off of his hand, his mind already moving on to other things.

  Strolling out of the tunnel, Henry barely noticed as people scurried out of his way, averting their eyes when his gaze passed over them. The nobility ruled Mayfair and their estates, and the Prince Regent ruled them, but here in the Warrens, the Tramp was King.

  Lady Delilah Darling

  “Oh, how lovely,” Lady Delilah Darling exclaimed. She lifted her heels and turned, very slowly, on the dressmaker’s pedestal, staring delightedly into the mirror. Behind her, Madame Bisset smiled broadly at Delilah before looking at Lady Jane Greene, Delilah’s guardian. The older woman’s expression was much harder to read, but Delilah was not deterred. She was going to have this walking dress. It was utter perfection.

  The rose color set off her coloring perfectly, making her hair appear more fashionably blonde—blondes were more fashionable this Season—her cheeks pinker, and her wide hazel eyes brighter. The trim waist was quite flattering as well, emphasizing her youthful figure. Twisting her hips, the skirts swished around her legs with a gentle shushing sound.

  Lady Delilah loved beautiful things. Moreover, she appreciated them. From the soft, pink fabric of her dress to the pale lacy parasol, she was already planning to use with it to the song of the bird outside the window. Life was beautiful, especially for her. This was her first Season in London, and she was determined to make the most of it as it was likely to be her only Season. Lord Greene had been a fast friend of her late father and had agreed to sponsor her Season, fulfilling her father’s final request before his passing. It was the best thing he’d ever done for her. As soon as her mourning period was over, Delilah had made her way to the capital and the Greene’s splendid household.

  Her father had been a mere baron while Lord Greene was an Earl, but he had taken her in nonetheless as he and her father had been great friends at Cambridge.

  She knew the Greene’s thought her to be far too spirited, flippant even, but after a year and a half of mourning a father who had barely been part of her life, she truly appreciated all the Season had to offer—the gaudy clothing, the sweaty palms of a nervous gentleman, the glittering throngs. While part of her felt guilty for not mourning her father’s death more, it was not as though they had truly known each other. He had spent all of his time in London, leaving her to rusticate at his estate under the care of a nanny, then a governess, and finally, a companion. The companion had been the worst of all, an older woman whose fussy personality had driven Delilah quite mad during her mourning period. She had been very happy indeed to leave the old bat in the country.

  The baron had blamed Delilah for her mother’s death, though her mother had died of a fever when Delilah was just over a year old. Delilah had caught the fever first, but she had recovered. For some reason, her mother had not. Truthfully, Delilah mourned the mother she’d never known far more than the father who had made it clear he did not want to know her.

  Finally spinning around to face her guardian, Delilah clasped her hands in front of her.

  “Oh, please, Lady Jane. It is by far the loveliest walking gown I have ever laid eyes on.”

  Lady Greene’s lips pursed, but she was not immune to her young ch
arge’s pleas. Ten years older than Delilah, she had so far not been blessed with a child. The second wife of Lord Greene. Rumor had it, he’d married a woman so much younger than himself because he had been desperate for an heir. Ten years later, he still did not have the heir, and gossip said it was likely he never would now, even if Lady Greene were to meet an untimely end, and he was able to marry again. Delilah thought it too bad; the pair would certainly make better parents than her father had.

  Even if she was twenty years younger, Lady Greene clearly held her husband in affection, and from all Delilah could see, it was returned. They were certainly happier than most couples among the ton.

  They seemed to view their guardianship of her as their chance to be parents, at least in a small way. At nineteen years of age, Delilah was not a child, but her sheltered upbringing and inexperience with Society meant she required guidance, not just chaperones. And if Lady Greene felt inclined to spoil her... well, so much the better. Delilah had blossomed under the Greenes’ attention and care, and she was happier than she had ever been in the country. Life was beautiful, exciting, and so very lovely.

  “Very well,” Lady Greene finally said with a sigh, shaking her head, but her blue eyes sparkled with amusement. Delilah preened happily under her gaze. “But this is the last gown.”

  Which brought their total for today to ten gowns, rather than the five they had initially planned on purchasing. Over dinner tonight, Lord Greene would shake his head, in much the same manner as his wife, when they confessed their sins, then sigh and hide his own smile before reminiscing about his friendship with Delilah’s father. She would listen, but only for Lord Greene’s sake. The tales he told did not match her remembrances of the man, but she would not ruin his memories for anything in the world.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Delilah jumped down from the pedestal and threw her arms around Lady Greene. The lady laughed, hugging Delilah back. Delilah always savored such moments. After her nanny had been dismissed when she was five, no one had hugged her again until she came to live with the Greenes. “I am going to be the belle of the park when we go walking!”

  “I am sure you shall be,” Lady Jane said, still shaking her head and smiling.

  The Tramp

  Hyde Park—where the beauty of nature was sullied by the grotesqueness of human existence.

  Tucked away under the overgrown branches of a willow along the banks of the Serpentine, Henry sneered at the passing ton. Young idiots, prancing about with padded breeches and jackets, posturing like peacocks to impress the simpering young ladies, who cared more about the quality of their purses than their characters. More than one of those young men would be in Warrens tonight, trying their hands at the Tramp’s gaming tables.

  He wondered what those young ladies would do if they knew the quality of his purse. He snorted at the thought. Without the title to go with the purse, every last one would turn up their nose at him, no matter that his fortune was as great as any duke. Well, perhaps not all of them would turn up their noses. There were always a few nobles on the brink of ruin. Often enough, the Tramp had helped drive them there. Several had offered their daughters when they ran out of coin—as if he’d want them. The doxies who worked his gambling hells knew their trade, knew how to please a man, and needed nothing more than a room to spread their legs.

  Sometimes, he amused himself, wondering if any of those offered daughters eventually made their way to his various establishments. If they did, it was after being broken in elsewhere. Henry did not deal in flesh, other than charging board for the tarts in his hells, and he had no interest in auctioning off young virgins. That was for the brothels to handle.

  “‘e’s not coming,” Butch grunted from beside Henry. On Henry’s other side, Frank shrugged, but the general air he gave off signaled his agreement.

  “Seems not,” Henry said, checking his pocket watch again. The Duke of Manchester insisted on meeting in Hyde Park, rather than in the Warrens since he’d promised his new wife, he would not step another foot in a gaming hell. Henry actually rather liked the duke, or he’d never have agreed, but he’d also been curious what kind of woman had the formidable man toeing the line so closely. He’d hoped a meeting in the park would allow him a glimpse. “He is a busy man, though. Another quarter of an hour, then we’ll leave.”

  Butch nodded, and Frank shrugged again. It wasn’t as if it was a hardship to spend some time in the park, other than the obnoxious occupants. But the weather was fair, the air even cooler by the river, and it certainly smelled better than the Warrens.

  Scanning his gaze back across the river, he saw her—a vision in pink and cream.

  Henry hated pink. He wanted to rip the offending gown off of her delicately curved body and tear it to shreds. The impulse shocked him. He enjoyed women. He reveled in their whimpers, moans, their pained and pleasured screams—but he’d never had such a visceral reaction to any other member of the female persuasion. He could not have even said why she was so different. But she was. His body reacted, his pulse beating faster, cock hardening, fingers twitching to get his hands on that abominable dress... and her. He could strip her, pull off that ridiculous bonnet, and keep her clothed in nothing but her hair, like Lady Godiva. With her hair covered up, he could not even tell what color it was, but it didn’t matter. Whatever color, it would be better than that dress.

  Those sweet pink lips curved in a smile, and Henry had the urge to ruin those as well. He’d kiss her until her lips were red, pinch her nipples until they matched, and spank her sweet cunt to the same color before fucking her into oblivion. He’d keep her naked, well-spanked, and well fucked—his little pet…

  The vision was so encompassing, he did not even notice time passing until Butch cleared his throat again.

  “Uh, Boss? We gonna keep waitin’?”

  Jolted from his reverie, Henry pulled out his pocket watch. It had been another half-hour, not a quarter. Growling, he cast one last look across the water at the woman who had clouded his mind—a bloody debutante. Standing in the park for so long must be making him barmy.

  “Let’s go,” he growled, turning his back and stalking away. Bloody debs. Bloody women.

  But he already knew he’d be ordering whatever whore he used tonight to dress in pink.

  1

  Lady Delilah Darling

  Two Months Later

  “Go? But...” Delilah’s voice trailed off as she stared at Lord Greene, her mind in turmoil. Seated on the couch in the drawing room with him across from her, she’d known he must have something of import to say, but she had not expected he and Lady Greene would be leaving the capital before the Season’s end.

  Something miraculous had happened—Lady Greene was finally with child. Delilah had been so very happy for them when they had told her, but over the past few weeks, Lady Greene had begun to suffer from ill-health. Lord Greene had still squired Delilah about, to the major events, and she’d assumed they would continue on, with a modified calendar, until the end of the Season.

  Unfortunately, it was not to be.

  “I am sorry, Delilah,” Lord Greene said gently. “The physician said she needs the country air. The city is not good for her in her condition. However, never fear, you will be able to stay in town and finish out the remainder of your Season.”

  Guilt rose up inside of Delilah. It was not that she thought her Season more important than Lady Greene’s health, exactly... but for an advantageous marriage, she needed to be married by the end of the Season. This was likely her last chance, and she was sure several gentlemen were close to proposing.

  So far, the Season had been a roaring success. Dubbed a Diamond of the First Water, Delilah had quickly made a splash with the fickle ton, especially the unmarried gentlemen. With Lord and Lady Greene watching their ward like twin hawks, the rogues and rakes quickly turned tail in retreat, despite the draw of her beauty and charm. Her bubbly personality, in contrast to her sad story, endeared her to the young men and ladies, while
her guardians ensured her welcome with the older set.

  “You are kind of think of me when Lady Greene’s health is low,” she said, shaking her head and smoothing her hands nervously over her skirts.

  “Finding you a husband is still our responsibility,” he said, leaning over to pat her hand, attempting to comfort her. “In that light, I have asked my Aunt Sarah to be your chaperone for the next month until the Season ends.”

  Delilah pressed her lips together, stifling the protest that sprang to them. She had met the formidable old lady. Lady Sarah Felton had been at many of the same events they had attended, chaperoning her twin granddaughters, Amy and Silvia. All three of them had looked down their noses at Delilah, although they had not snubbed her completely.

  As a choice, she made sense since she was already in town for the Season and related to Lord Greene, not to mention already escorting two debutantes.

  To protest would be churlish, especially as Lord Greene had ensured Delilah could have the full Season he’d promised. No matter what, she would find a way to get along with his aunt and nieces.

  “Thank you, my lord,” she said, imbuing her voice with as much sincerity as she could. It became easier as she focused on what he had done for her, rather than her immediate future. “Your generosity and thoughtfulness are so very much appreciated. You and Lady Greene have done so much for me, I cannot thank you enough. I hope everything goes much more easily for her in the country.”