Duke of Dishonor (Lords of Scandal 11)

Each of the men added from their own personal pile to the one in the middle. “Maestro had Malcolm done. Stabbed ‘im right in the back, all because he didn’t deliver that niece of his.”

“Well,” another said around a cigar. “Maestro was right on that account. Now that line of business has been cut off, hasn’t it?”

“Still,” another one said. “Makes a man nervous. Don’t deliver one week and—” He ran his finger across his throat.

Another leaned forward. “He’s a tough man to be certain, but we all eat thanks to him.”

A large man scratched his chin. “Think we might up our standing if we brought ‘im one of those girls.”

“I’m not touching a duke’s wife,” the one with the cigar added. “No way.”

“Agreed and not the one married to a marquess, either.”

The one who’d suggested kidnapping to begin with nodded. “Smart. But there are two who don’t got no ‘usbands. What about one of them?”

Brandon’s stomach dropped. Emily was in danger.

“Let me think on it more,” the cigar-biter answered. “In the meantime, we need to get this money to Maestro.” He pulled out a box from under the table and placed all the money in the middle then snapped the wooden lid shut. After standing, he crossed the room and donned his coat. “We’ll plan for tomorrow night gents, but I can’t be late for the drop.”

Brandon shrunk into the shadows as the door opened again. The man stepped out, the tip of his cigar leading the way.

For a moment, Brandon hesitated. Would they act tomorrow night, or would they simply make their plan tomorrow? Did he run to Emily’s side now or finish the job he’d started here tonight?

Then he clenched his teeth. She was pushing him from his path already and they’d only met the once. He had to focus. And so, squaring his shoulders, he set off into the night after the lit cigar. He’d warn the Duke of Devonhall about the threat to Emily and Abigail just as soon as he’d followed the money.

He had time, he reasoned. They didn’t even have a plan yet.

But when he thought of some man hurting Emily…

Still. This was what he’d come to do. Capture this ring

of thieves and restore his name with the crown. He’d sacrificed so much to get here, and he would not stray from the path now.

He’d made so many compromises already.

Clenching his fists at his sides, he moved silently through the night.

Emily stared out the window. The sun shone for the first time in what felt like weeks.

Her sisters were all still asleep.

Isabella and Eliza were up late at their husbands’ gaming hell. They’d hoped to meet their rescuer from a few months’ prior. The one who’d held her in his arms and stolen her breath. The one who’d continued to hold her nightly in her dreams.

Eliza had seen him on two other occasions, and he’d introduced himself as Dishonor. Odd choice, considering he’d rescued them. To Emily, he might be the most honorable man she knew.

She sighed as her chin rested on her hand as she leaned on the sill. Of course, he’d sought out Eliza. Her eldest sister was so brave.

“There you are,” Abigail called from behind her as she swept in with a flurry of skirts. “At least the sun is out today.”

Emily didn’t bother to point out that her sister’s two thoughts were completely unrelated. “It is. It’s lovely.”

“Are you as bored as I am?” Abigail tossed herself into a chair. “When we lived in Cheapside and had no money, I thought that might be the worst our lives could get. But this…” She gestured around the room. “This might be worse.”

Emily surveyed the walls that Abigail has just referred to. Large mahogany trim decorated the tall ceilings as it gleamed with fresh polish.

Delicately carved furniture decorated the room and a roaring fire crackled merrily in the hearth. “Darling.” She gave her younger sister an indulgent smile. “How could this be worse than what we left?”

Abigail pshed. “At least our financial struggle held an air of excitement. Bash has trapped us in this house for weeks. Boring.”