Duke of Decadence (Lords of Scandal 9)

Lectures about being smarter, tougher, living up to the family name. Bash’s fists squeezed into tight balls and he hit his outer thigh as he moved. No matter how many times he’d attempted to live up to his father’s standards, he’d never done it.

Another knock made him freeze in place and then twist toward the door.

His breath stopped as Isabella stepped past his butler and into the room. “Miss Carrington.” Williams announced. She dipped into a curtsy her eyes cast to the floor.

“Your Grace,” she murmured.

His insides twisted. Her voice dipped and rose in a lyrical fashion that danced over his skin. “Please have a seat.”

The door closed as she slipped into a chair on the other side of his desk.

Rather than sit himself, he crossed to the mantel and faced the flames that crackled in the hearth. “What can I help you with, Miss Carrington?”

She didn’t answer.

The silence stretched out until he finally turned away from the flames to look back at her. Her head was bowed, her fingers laced tightly together in her lap.

Whatever ill feelings lingered from thoughts of his past disappeared as he witnessed her tension. “Isabella?”

She raised her head until her eyes met his. He took a few steps toward her easily crossing the room in two long strides. Reaching her chair and, without thought, he cupped her cheek in his palm. His hand nearly engulfed half of her face.

She swallowed, her muscles working under his fingers. “I’ve come with a proposition.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. “Proposition?”

He could see the faintest tremble in her lower lip. His heart hammered in his chest.

“Yes. You see…” She paused, drawing in a deep breath.

He didn’t mean to, but he noticed the way her chest pushed out, highlighting her bosom. It had been bound the night before. Not overly large. Just right. But his gaze snapped back to her face as she spoke again.

“My sisters and I…we are in trouble.”

Her admission made his breath stall. He believed her. Why else would they have taken such a risk coming to the club? “What kind of trouble?”

She stood too and suddenly she was close. He hadn’t let go of her cheek and it brought her body within a few inches of his until he could feel her heat through her clothes. She smelled of violets and fresh winter air. “My mother died last spring,” her voice warbled. So vulnerable. “My father is a merchant. He runs Carrington Shipping.”

Carrington Shipping? Bloody hell. He knew it well. One of the richest and most profitable businesses in England. “All right. Tell me more.”

“Nearly two years ago he left for the Orient to gain a new contract. The business was hemorrhaging money, but he couldn’t seem to discover why.”

“That’s odd for a man who’d been so successful.”

She nodded. “I can tell you that a previous solicitor had been stealing money on behalf of my uncle. The solicitor was prosecuted but my father didn’t have enough evidence to have a baron convicted. So he cut my uncle out of Carrington Shipping entirely. But then large sums began to disappear.”

Bash’s heart was thumping in his chest. “Your father suspected your uncle?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I don’t know for certain, but he said he had a powerful friend who would help him investigate. Meanwhile, he left to gain additional profits for the business. He said that if he didn’t, Carrington Shipping might lose its foothold.” She drew in a shaky breath.

His hand flexed on her skin. He was tempted to ask her to continue but he waited as she collected her thoughts.

“It’s not uncommon for my father to be gone for long stretches. It was part of his business. But after my mother died, we wrote to him begging him to come home.”

“He didn’t?” Bash’s chest tightened as the first inklings of where this story was going filtered through his thoughts.

“Not only has he not come home but he hasn’t even written. It’s been over nine months now since we’ve had any communication from him which is strange. He always wrote regularly and…” Her voice trembled as her chin notched higher, her eyes pleading with his.

He grimaced. “You’re afraid he’s dead.”