My Duke's Desire (Wicked Lords of London 4)

With a proper husband, her mother would be cared for. She hoped to convince her new husband to provide a modest dowry for her sister and help her brother learn to manage his funds far better than their father had done.

Her mother finally ended her lecture. “If he doesn’t wish to make a match, we will simply move on. The Marquess of Dunstable and the Earl of Rumsford have also sent invitations.”

That was supposed to make her feel better. If this man didn’t want her, another would. But somehow, it only made her insides twist into knots. She resembled a side of beef at the market to the eligible men. One of them would want her for his table.

She pushed the thought aside. She’d given up lamenting her fate some time ago. She understood the alternative and she wouldn’t allow her sister to become a spinster, her brother to sink under the weight of their debt.

Her father had loved them. He’d been attentive and kind. Loving and present. He simply was a poor manager of money. But she understood the value of family and she’d do what she could to protect hers now.

The carriage slowed and Violette peered out the window again. The blurry figure of a man and his horse huddled under a tree caught her notice as the driver pulled to a stop. She could hear her driver’s muffled voice and she watched the man straighten.

The carriage bounced as the driver climbed down and then a rap on the door echoed through the interior.

“Yes,” her mother called.

“Stranded traveler, my lady,” he replied as her mother opened the door and climbed out of the carriage.

Violette swallowed a lump. Her father should be here. Her mother should not be stepping out into the rain to greet strange men. What if he was a highwayman intent upon robbing them?

Her heart beat faster even as her mother climbed back into the carriage, giving a delicate cough as she took her seat. “Move onto my seat, dear,” her mother stated matter-of-factly. “We’re taking on a passenger.”

“Mother,” she gasped. “You can’t. What if he’s a—”

But she stopped as the door opened again. She might have yelped but she’d already gotten a lecture this day and so she simply moved over. The man climbed into the buggy and shed his wet coat. Silently, he handed over a coin purse to her mother. “Thank you,” he said as she took it in her gloved hand.

Violette caught her breath as she watched him sit. He did indeed look like a highwayman. Tall, broad, and well-muscled, he moved with the grace of a predator and she shivered, having nothing to do with the cold blast of air that had entered the carriage. His dark, wet hair had fallen into his piercing blue eyes and he pushed it back in a careless gesture that made her heart beat faster.

His skin was a rich brown, which only lent to the air of danger, and she watched as he rubbed at the growth of hair on his face. It wasn’t just stubble but also hadn’t grown enough or been groomed in such a way to be considered a beard.

She had to admit that his features were classically handsome though it mattered little if he chose to rob them or even kill them for their valuables. Not that they had many. But still.

She noted how large his hand was, and for a moment, she thought to clutch her mother in fear. But that would only lead to a lecture, and so she clasped her fingers together instead.

Her mother had allowed this man into their carriage because he’d paid her to do so. She’d seen the exchange of funds and while their situation was dire, this plan was folly at best. Who was to say he hadn’t stolen coin from the last traveler he’d met? Gads, their financial woes would lead them to their death.

Chapter Two

Theo sat across from the two women and noted that the younger was quite pretty. Lovely even. Near a beauty. She might be considered a real gem if she weren’t looking at him with wide eyes and pursed lips.

Her dark hair was pulled into a neat coif, though curls framed her face. Her pale skin was creamy with lightly pinked cheeks, likely from the cold, and she had red lips that looked as though they’d been kissed by summer strawberries.

Her nose was straight and her chin and jawline formed a lovely frame to her high cheekbones. He’d forgotten how beautiful English misses could be.

He gave her a nod of acknowledgement and her eyes widened further, rather like a frightened deer. Would she run if he chased her? He gave his head a subtle shake to clear the thought. What was wrong with him? Perhaps he’d spent too much time in the sun after all. These women had helped him, though not out of the kindness of their hearts. He’d paid a handsome price.

“Forgive me.” The older lady delicately cleared her throat. “I am Lady Bradford and this is my daughter, Lady Violette Chase.”

Ladies? Picking up strangers and charging for carriage rides?

His gaze left Lady Violette’s face. Her cloak was of a fine quality and meticulous in its maintenance but now that he looked, he could see they’d been worn a great deal. They’d been repaired more than once, the stitching overlapped in several places. “Charmed,” he drawled.

He leaned his head back. Now that he was in a dry carriage, he may as well get some rest. At least close his eyes. The little doe across from him would never allow him to sleep. Behind his eyelids he was picturing all sorts of interesting scenarios that involved just the two of them in this carriage.

“And you are, sir?” Violette asked with a charm and tact that was perfectly fitting to a lady. Dream as he might, he seriously doubted she was available for anything other than marriage. Pity.

He opened his eyes to assess her as he answered. “Mr. Theodore Riley,” He used the family surname rather than his title. Considering the state of their clothing, if these ladies knew they had a duke in their carriage, who knew what they might try and extort from him?

She gave him a polite smile as she sat perfectly straight. “A pleasure, Mr. Riley.” One would have assumed from her voice she was completely at ease but her hands were clasped tightly together, creasing her gloves.