Chapter One
“Drat. It’s raining again.” Emily huffed as she stood at the window, staring and frowning deeply.
Minnie Chase crossed the room and brushed back Emily’s hair. The woman had a serious case of pre-wedding jitters. Never having been married, Minnie didn’t quite understand it, but two days ago, when she’d suggested that Emily simply calm herself, her cousin had burst into a shower of tears. Minnie hadn’t made the suggestion again. Rather, she’d taken to whispering near-nonsensical words into her cousin’s ear. “This is England, Em. It’s always raining. At least the garden will be lush for the day of the ceremony.”
“Lush, yes. That’s a good point.” Emily relaxed against Minnie, her brown hair brushing Minnie’s bright red locks. “You’ve been such a comfort, Minnie. Thank you. After what happened last week, I’ve grown so worried that this wedding won’t happen.”
Minnie winced. That was an excellent point and explained a great deal about Emily’s jitters. Minnie rather agreed, in fact if she were in Emily’s place, she wouldn’t be marrying the man at all.
Last week, Emily, along with Minnie and her sister, Ada, and Emily’s sisters, Diana and Grace, had gone to a secret gaming hell called the Den of Sins. There, they’d discovered that Jack, along with five of his friends, ran a secret gaming hell and used the proceeds to pad their fortunes.
Minnie’s gut clenched as she remembered that night. The men had been none too happy to have their secret discovered by ladies of society. One in particular had irritated Minnie beyond belief. Daring, they’d called him, but she knew him as The Duke of Darlington. Just thinking his name caused goose pimples to rise on her flesh.
But worse than meeting an errant duke, Emily and Jack had almost cancelled their wedding. “The nuptials are going to happen. Jack said he would retire from the club and that you were what was important.” She gave Emily a squeeze.
Emily nodded against her shoulder. “You’re right. I just…I can’t…I seem to be filled with doubt.”
Minnie gave Emily’s back a tiny pat and then she let her cousin go. “I know. It’s only a month until the wedding and then you can cease worrying.” An entire month of keeping Emily constant company. Not that she was completing the task alone. But still. She sighed. It was going to be the longest thirty days of her life.
Emily gave an absent nod, then turned to look through the rain-streaked window. Minnie knew Em wouldn’t reply. She’d already retreated back into her worried thoughts. Something she did with more and more frequency as the wedding drew closer.
“Perhaps,” she touched Emily’s arm, “we could arrange an outing this evening. Aunt Melisandre is hosting an intimate dinner. We could go so you have something to take your mind off the wedding.”
Emily waved, not looking at Minnie. “I couldn’t possibly. I’m a wreck.”
Minnie looked up that ceiling. No denying that. “Perhaps I could write to Jack. See if he could escort you?”
“Jack?” Emily’s full attention focused back on Minnie. “What a marvelous idea. We could go together. When I’m with him, I forget to be afraid.”
Minnie’s insides fluttered. Emily was the perfect example of why a woman needed to use her head and not her heart when she selected a husband. Not that Minnie needed an example. She’d fallen in love last season only to have her hopes and dreams dashed. Emily only confirmed her worst fears. While she knew Emily loved Jack from the first instant their eyes met, there had been secrets and lies and now a whole heaping pile of uncertainty. “All right then. I’ll write him now.”
Minnie crossed the room and sat at the desk. Dipping the quill into the ink, she pulled out a fresh piece of parchment from the top drawer. Then she took out the quill again and perched the utensil above the paper. Instead of writing, however, her own mind drifted.
How to choose a husband had dominated her thoughts of late. Minnie had reached one and twenty years of age, past time to be married. And her younger sister Ada was ready for her first season. Which meant that Minnie needed to find a husband or place herself on the shelf. The very idea of Minnie becoming a spinster sent their mother into a dead faint.
Minnie wasn’t sure how she felt on the topic. On the one hand, she couldn’t quite picture being alone her entire life. On the other, however, she tried to visualize the man who would tolerate her for the rest of his life.
She rested her chin on her other hand. Minnie had a tendency to tell men exactly what she thought of them, precisely when she thought it. A trait that had frightened more than one suitor away.
Looking down, she realized the parchment now had a giant blotch of black ink dead in the center of the page. She let out a sigh and pulled out a fresh piece, penning a note to Jack.
Lord Effington,
Lady Emily Chase requests the honor of your presence at the home of the Countess of Wilmington’s dinner soiree this evening. She finds herself in need of a diversion.
Minnie stopped, frowning with one side of her mouth. Did that sound right? It was true, of course, but perhaps it was too forward? She shook her head. When had she started questioning herself? Probably about the time her father had insisted she find a husband this season or he’d find one for her. Her mother concurred. They were aligning against her.
Thank you for your attention to this matter. We hope to see you this evening.
Kind regards,
Miss Minerva Chase
She dusted the paper and then carefully folded the note, rising again to ring the bell. Attending the ball would do her good as well. Not only would it give her a break from Emily’s nervous melancholy but it might give her an opportunity to find a suitor before her father had the chance.
Lord Dartagnan Darlington, The Duke of Darlington, sat across from his closest friend, ally, and companion through many
a lurid tryst and tried to keep his poker face in place. Jack knew him better than anyone, which made lying to his friend exceptionally difficult. “Do you have any plans with Emily between now and the wedding?” he asked, attempting to keep his voice light.
Which was odd in and of itself. He had a naturally deep and rumbling baritone much more suited to thinly veiled threats than to light banter about ladies.
Jack squinted an eye. “Odd question.” His friend turned his head to the side. “Daring,” he asked, using Dartagnan’s nickname at the club.
Actually, Jack had a nickname too, Effing. But Tag had known Jack since before the club and somehow, he’d always thought of the Lord of Effington as just Jack. “What?”
“Are you feeling all right? You’re not acting like yourself.”
Tag snapped his teeth together. This was not going the way he’d planned. He needed to redirect the conversation quickly. “I’m fine. The last time I saw Emily, however, she threatened to call off the wedding. I’m concerned for you.”
Jack grimaced as he looked down. “Right. Thanks for reminding me.”
Tag’s gut clenched with guilt. He’d wanted to distract Jack, not hurt him. When Emily had walked into the back room of their secret club with her sisters and cousins in tow, their livelihood, at least the fun part of it, had been jeopardized. If word got out they ran the club, it would ruin the mystery that surrounded their identities and could cost them patrons and coin…. One of Den of Sins’ greatest assets was the mystery that surrounded its owners. Men theorized they were pirates, highwaymen, or cutthroats. No one ever concocted a story that declared the club run by a duke and his fellow peers. “Sorry, chap. I was just worried. You’ve patched things up with her?”
Jack splayed his fingers on the desk. “More or less.” He cleared his throat. “But she’s been exceptionally nervous and her sisters and cousins—” Jack’s head popped up. “Who you’ve obviously met.”
Tag gave a curt nod trying to disguise that the sisters and cousins were the exact reason he’d come. “I vaguely remember them.”
Jack cocked a brow. “Oh please. Flames ignited between you and Minnie.”
He snorted despite himself. “Those weren’t flames. It was just her bright red hair.” Fiery shades of copper as glaring as her personality.
It was Jack’s turn to snort. “Daring. I know when you’re attracted to a woman.”
Tag lowered his brow, leaning forward. “This time you misunderstand. It was not attraction. I was honestly stunned and appalled by the woman. A more flamboyant example of feminine attributes has never crossed my path.”
Jack pushed back in his chair, arching a brow. “More flamboyant than the group of gypsies you hired one year for my birthday? More garish than the troop of actresses you brought to—”
“Point made,” Tag grated. “They were women of a different cloth. Minnie, as you called her, is the granddaughter of an earl. She should a have more sedated decorum.”
Jack stared at him for a moment before he shook his head. “I agree on that point. There is little that is sedated about Minnie. She does everything with a great deal of zest, energy, and enthusiasm. Even verbally sparring with dukes.”
Tag’s mouth went annoyingly dry. Because he thought of one activity in particular where zest, energy, and enthusiasm would play out nicely. The acts he pictured also involved that mane of glowing hair trailing down her shoulders and onto his, spilling across his pillow. For a moment, his eyes closed.
After the ladies had left the club that evening, Jack had gone with them. The rest of their friends and fellow club owners had stayed behind. That’s when the five men had decided they needed to make sure Emily’s family did not disclose their secret gaming hell. And so they’d devised a plan. Each of them would watch one of the ladies to ensure she was trustworthy. A fact-finding endeavor.
One of their friends, Exile, a brawny Scot with a noble heart, had insisted they keep their activities appropriate. If they didn’t, he’d personally see them escorted to the altar. And Tag couldn’t have that yet. He’d marry eventually, of course, to some simple girl who bore him a few children and didn’t ask too much of him emotionally or otherwise. A woman like Minnie was too spirited, too like the woman who’d nearly wrecked his life and his soul six years before.