Duke of Dishonor (Lords of Scandal 11)

“Then let’s go.” Aunt Mildred waved her hand, gesturing them forward. “We mustn’t keep His Grace waiting.”

“I think this is a mistake,” she whispered, her gaze narrowing. Just this morning the Duke of Devonhall told them not to leave the house. Their uncle had threatened to sell them at auction to the highest-bidding husband. She shuddered inwardly and a cold fist clamped around her heart. Not a fate she relished.

But her sisters were in a flurry of conversation and neither acknowledged nor heeded her comment. Perhaps they hadn’t heard at all, but a quarter hour later, they were all seated in the carriage, bustling off to their Cheapside home.

Her feeling of unease didn’t lessen. In fact, her trepidation only grew. Why hadn’t she tried harder to be heard?

Not sure what else to do, she reached for Isabella’s hand, her eyes meeting her sister’s. Why hadn’t she objected more loudly? Insisted they stay home? Because she was meek, easing people’s fears rather than acting on her own.

Isabella stared back. “We should stop,” she said, squeezing Emily’s hand. Then she banged on the wall and the carriage slowed. Isabella was the most like Emily and their thoughts were in line now. Emily sighed with relief, giving Isabella a nod on confirmation. This trip was a mistake.

“Isabella?” Eliza asked, looking over at her as the carriage slowed. “What is it?”

“This doesn’t feel right,” Isabella answered. “Something is off. I can feel—”

“Who are you and what do you want?” the driver called as the carriage lurched forward again.

The girls gasped and Isabella fell back into her seat even as Emily fell toward her, bracing herself on Isabella’s legs.

“Stop that carriage or we’ll shoot,” a stranger’s voice called.

Emily squeaked out a tiny scream, fear pounding through her veins. She clutched her sister’s hand harder as she silently berated herself for not acting as she knew she should. Why hadn’t she sounded an alarm sooner?

The carriage turned even as it picked up speed. They were clearly making a getaway and all the women tried to brace themselves as Eliza cried out when her head hit the wood frame.

Suddenly a shot rang out and the driver screamed. A thud followed and Emily squeezed her eyes shut. “Did someone just shoot the driver?” she asked, but no one answered. The next series of questions, she kept to herself but inwardly, her thoughts spun. Had he fallen? What was happening out there? Were random thugs attacking their carriage or was this the work of their uncle?

“Come on out, ladies,” the voice called again. The man’s tone dripped with barely concealed irritation. “There is someone who’d like to visit with you.”

Aunt Mildred let out a gasp. “This is not part of the job.”

“Aunt Mil—"

She waved them off. “My name is Caroline. I quit.”

“You’re quitting now?” Eliza huffed as she grabbed up an umbrella, holding it

in front of her like a sword.

Isabella straightened. “I accept your resignation. You may leave the carriage now.”

Emily turned to glare at the older woman. So much for her loyalty to the duke. A chastisement rose to her lips, but she pushed it back down. Her sisters had already done the job of expressing their dissatisfaction. Mildred, or Caroline, or whatever they were calling her, made no move to get out and instead shrunk further into the bench.

Abigail gave a quick laugh as the older woman turned pale, but that voice called again. “If you’re thinking you can escape, you should know there’s a man out here for each of you to make certain you’re escorted to your host.”

“It was a trap,” Eliza whispered. “That note wasn’t from Bash, was it?”

Bash was the duke’s nickname, one that suited him perfectly. Emily looked between her sisters, wondering how they might possibly get out of this mess. “I should have spoken up earlier. I knew this was a mistake but I…”

“No,” Isabella answered. “I should have known. I’ve just never seen his handwriting.”

Eliza frowned. “It’s not either of your faults. But the question now is, do we stay in or get out as they’re requesting?”

“Stay in,” Abigail inserted. “Don’t be a fool.”

“But then they can just drive off with all of us in this carriage,” Emily pointed out, lifting her finger in the air. Abigail gave her a look halfway between quizzical and irritated. Emily understood why. She rarely spoke up in these sorts of situations. But then again, not talking hadn’t helped them at all. Look at where they were in this moment. If only she’d shared her fears earlier, perhaps they’d have been better off.

“Ladies,” the voice called again. It held a sing-song quality that made Emily start in fear. “Time to come out.”