Duke of Decadence (Lords of Scandal 9)

“He can’t be,” she whispered. “If he is, everything will go to my uncle. Including us. He’s the nearest male relative. He’ll control our estate and by the time Eliza is five and twenty it will all be gone.”

The thief. “I see the problem.”

She shook her head, her thi

ck silky hair grazing the tips of his fingers. He loved that hair. He wanted to bury his fingers in it. “You don’t. He didn’t just steal from my father. He’s already made a match for Eliza. An awful one. The man is vile, but he’s willing to pay a high price. My uncle’s auctioning her off to the highest bidder.”

Bash frowned, straightening. He could see why Eliza would be first. Her classic beauty made her very marketable. “And you don’t want your sister to take such a match?”

“She would.” Isabella placed a hand on his chest then and he brought a hand to her hip, pulling her closer. The intimacy was not lost on him but he couldn’t quite stop himself either. “She would do it in a second if she thought it would keep us safe. The problem is Uncle Malcolm would likely do the same for each of us in turn. We’ll be one more item he uses for his own profit.”

That created an anger he hadn’t allowed to the surface in a very long time begin to bubble inside. Like lava, it began to press to the surface. “You don’t know…”

She shook her head, her fingers tightening in his shirt. “He’s already planning to sell our home, take over the business. Please. You have to understand. Without the protection of a powerful man we’ll be at his mercy.”

And then Bash understood. He took a step back, dropping both his hands. He was the powerful man from whom they wanted protection.

Isabelle had made a mistake.

She didn’t know exactly what she’d done wrong, but now her gut twisted to think of letting her sisters down.

He’d pulled away. The more frustrating part was that she didn’t know what she’d said or done wrong. Eliza was so much better at charming men than she was.

“What is it exactly you want from me?”

Isabella drew in a steadying breath. She wished he’d hold her again. The thought surprised her, but his touch made it much easier to speak with his strength seeping into her skin. “A job,” she whispered back.

“A job?” He furrowed his brow. “That entire story was the lead up to a request to be a what exactly? What job are you hoping to do for me?”

She held her chin high and forced herself to look him in the eye. “To work at the Den of Sins, of course.”

His mouth fell open. “Isabella. You’re the daughter of a successful man. You can’t spend every night of the week traipsing through a gaming hell. You’ll be—”

“Ruined,” she finished with a nod. “I know.”

“Then why would you even consider it?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared down at her.

Her shoulders wanted to hunch but she forced her spine straight. “To save my sisters, of course. Neither Eliza nor I can think of a way that doesn’t ruin one of us…” Her voice tapered off. Even she knew not to add that it would have been Eliza except His Grace had shown interest in Isabella instead of her prettier sister.

A turn of events she still wasn’t certain she understood.

He sucked in a breath. “You’re the sacrificial lamb.”

She shrugged as her gaze finally dropped. “It’s my choice.” Her hands had clasped in front of her stomach, but she raised them up over her heart like that would somehow protect her. “I’ll do whatever you ask of me as long as you, in turn, protect my sisters from my uncle.”

“Whatever I ask?” His voice dropped so low it was almost…dangerous.

She ignored the trickle of fear that pricked at her skin. She wasn’t afraid of him. But she was petrified of the choices she was making.

Isabella had attempted to keep that fear from Eliza, of course. Partially because Eliza faced fear head on and partially because she didn’t want her sister to feel guilty. If Isabella was taking on the burden, she’d take all of it. “That’s right. Whatever you ask.” Would he wish to take her into his bed? Make her his paramour? Her hands squeezed tighter. “But you must help my sisters make acceptable matches. Your social sway will surely see them with good husbands.”

“And what about you, my little lamb? What will happen to you?” His question was a rumbled whisper that sent tingles all over her skin. “What do you get out of this deal?”

She shook her head. “I get the satisfaction of knowing that they are safe.”

“That’s it? That’s all you want. How will you feed yourself when this is all done?”

She shook her head. What did that matter? “That is a problem for another day, Your Grace. If I’ve learned one thing in all of this, we must face each problem as it comes. If you try to look too far ahead…” She finally unclasped her hands and one fluttered in the air.