My Duke's Seduction (Wicked Lords of London 1)

He ignored the voice within him that said it was more than a matter of merits. There was a part of him that liked the chaos she brought, the excitement, the emotion that was inserted into his predictable world.

No, this would be a business transaction. He’d tried and failed at love once, thinking that his affection was returned. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. If he did this at all, he would gain a wife that would pleasurably provide him with children and in return…what would Tricia want?

But he knew the answer. He would provide her with all the funds she would need to start charity programs of her choosing. Allow her the ability to do the work she wanted while still having a family of her own. It was a beneficial arrangement for both of them.

Provided she agreed to stop wandering the streets of London at night. That simply wouldn’t do.

The carriage pulled into his drive. He’d consider it tonight and have Mr. Hart find out her identity. It would be an easy task, considering he already knew her cousin, the orphanage her sister owned, and the address at which she resided.

Then he could make his decision.

With that in mind, he took the steps into him home two at a time. Striding through the door, the butler bowed. “Your Grace,” he murmured.

Ryker gave him a nod and continued up the stairs. Some sleep was in order. Tomorrow would be a full day.

Ryker rose early, and prepared himself in the usual fashion. It was the same routine every day. He penned a note to Mr. Hart, requesting his presence that afternoon. Not only did he want to discuss Tricia but they had their original matter to resolve. Mr. Hart had delivered the thief he’d caught last night to the Bow Street runners. It had likely been a long night and he wanted the man to get some rest.

There was still a great deal of work to be done, because while they had caught the man who had been stealing from Ryker’s ships, he was surely a hired thief, working for someone else.

The question was who? Ryker delivered English goods all over the world. But recently he’d been shipping jewels for the Prince Regent himself. He suspected they were for a mistress, which accounted for the secrecy, but how had the thief known the exact ships on which the jewels had been? While he’d recovered the necklace last night, the bracelet had been lost the night before and ear bobbles the week before that.

Someone who knew the inner workings of his business was behind this.

He did best puzzling over these matters when he moved, and so he took himself out for a walk. The day was dreary but he didn’t mind. He’d stop for a cup of tea if he needed to warm himself.

After several blocks, he did exactly that. Stepping into a shop, he caught the scent of cloves and tea, laced with honey. It smelled divine and though he’d tried to keep his thoughts on the espionage at foot, he was immediately reminded of his red-haired troublemaker.

He grinned but then sobered. He wondered briefly if it was a bad idea after all to take her as a wife. She was invading his thoughts in a most disconcerting way. But perhaps once he’d bedded her he could be more rationale?

And then they could go about the business of a productive, mutually beneficial marriage.

But his thoughts were interrupted. Just ahead of him, about to sit was a woman with red auburn curls. Loose wisps formed about her head like a halo and while he couldn’t see her face, he’d recognize that hair anywhere. She turned slightly to speak with the man she was with and it confirmed that it was, indeed, his Tricia.

The man replied and then placed his hand at her back, his lips subtly brushing her temple. He was tall and broad with dark hair and a muscular build. Jealousy ripped through Ryker. Followed quickly by anger. She’d lied when she’d said she was innocent.

And he’d been a fool to ever think of taking her to wife. She’d been prowling about the streets at night, of course she wasn’t innocent. But he’d believed her. This is why he kept to himself.

He stormed up behind the couple, an anger he rarely felt coursing through him. He didn’t stop to examine the emotion. He did not get upset when business deals fell through and that was what this was, wasn’t it?

But as he reached the couple, his voice growled out, “Tricia.”

She turned her head toward him, surprise lighting her face. He had a moment of triumph that he’d caught her and exposed her lie when a bell rang in his head. Something was wrong. The nose, the mouth, the shape of the chin…

“How do you know my sister?” the woman demanded. “Who are you that you’d use her given name?”

And then she came about to stand before him. The man she was with turned as well and that was when Ryker realized her figure was far fuller than Tricia’s. He wondered if she might be with child.

“Your Grace?” The man’s voice pulled his eyes away as he stared, horrified, at the face so like Tricia’s but clearly different. He’d done it now, announced his relationship with her to her family. It’s a good thing he’d been considering marriage. Because this would bring a great many questions.

“Sussex?” his strangled voice ripped from his throat as several details clicked into place. Tricia’s sister was the Countess of Sussex, daughter to the Duke of Waverly. Tricia was the second daughter to the duke, who, even Ryker knew, had fallen ill.

He also knew that Sussex had been considered a blackguard until marriage when a little red-headed wallflower had tamed the beast. At least that’s what the men at his gentlemen’s club claimed. He hadn’t cared a wit. In fact, having several joint business ventures with the man, he’d enjoyed Sussex’s new attentiveness to his business at their joint venture meetings through the club. He didn’t socialize with the men outside of those meetings, preferring to keep them professional.

But now, the stories about Sussex all made so much more sense. Of course, it was Tricia’s sister that had brought an errant rake to his knees.

“Your Grace?” the countess repeated. “Well, Your Grace,” he heard her slippered foot stomp on the floor as she drew out his title. “You have yet to answer my question.”

Her face was set in rigid lines, her shoulders straight as she assessed him with a gaze that would have withered a lesser man.