The Duke Who Loved Me: On His Majesty's Secret Service Book 1

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by Patricia Barletta


  Finally, able to take her leave, Jessica walked with dignity out into the main gaming room. Blinking back the tears in her eyes, she kept her chin up as she maneuvered through the people milling about the tables of chance. Fortunately, no one stopped her to greet her or pass the time. She was relieved when she finally reached the entrance hall and was able to ask Jacques for her cloak and to fetch her carriage.

  While she waited, she tried to push her depression to the back of her mind, but her thoughts invariably turned to Braeleigh and her brother. She promised herself she would make back the money she had lost. Margaret would not have any reason to use Jason for her gain.

  With one last sigh, she pushed away her dark thoughts as Jacques returned through the doorway.

  “Pardon, Mademoiselle, but your carriage is gone,” he said.

  Jessica frowned at him. “That’s impossible. I paid the driver extra to wait for me. I will see for myself.” Impatiently, she pushed past the majordomo and stepped out the door. She looked up and down, but only a few private coaches waited silently for their wealthy owners. Her carriage was gone. It was impossible to find a carriage for hire at this time of the night. What could she do? How was she to get home? It was very dangerous to walk, for gangs of thieves and cutthroats roamed the streets, seeking out vulnerable victims. It was out of the question to go back inside Madame’s and ask someone for a ride. Her pride had suffered enough for one night. She could not face anyone after losing so badly. She was sure the news of her loss had spread as soon as she had left. It was too difficult to act as if losing meant nothing to her.

  As she wondered desperately what to do, a deep voice spoke next to her. “Is there some difficulty, my lady?”

  Jessica jumped at the sound. She had heard no one approach. Turning, she discovered the Duke at her elbow. He smiled engagingly.

  “I apologize if I startled you, but you seemed troubled by something,” he said.

  The Duke of Wyndham was the last person she wished to see at that moment. Jessica pasted a smile on her lips as she said flippantly, “It would seem my luck has fled me completely this evening. My carriage appears to have left, so I am without a ride home.”

  “Then it is fortunate indeed that I also decided to leave Madame’s early. I will give you a ride.” He spoke as if there were no other alternative. It was nearly an order.

  “That won’t be necessary, Your Grace,” she said. “I am sure Jacques will be able to find me some means of transportation.”

  “Nonsense. Besides, Jacques is occupied with other matters at the moment.” He turned and gestured through the door.

  Inside, Jessica could see two gentlemen challenging each other to a duel, and the lady for whom they fought had fainted into Jacques’ very capable arms. She glanced quickly up at the Duke’s strong face and found him waiting politely for her answer. Immediately, she dropped her gaze in order to think more clearly. She could not make a decision while looking into those shards of emeralds. The Duke did have a point. Truly, what other choice did she have? Knowing that she was placing herself in jeopardy, she resolved she would be very alert for any improper behavior on the part of the Duke. That decided, she began to tell him she accepted his offer, but he was already summoning his coach from where it waited beside the road.

  As she watched the dark, shiny vehicle pulled by four matching bays approach, she had a moment of panic. He could not learn of her poor lodgings. It would dispel the air of mystery she had so carefully built around herself. He would realize that she was no better than an adventuress, out to win riches and perhaps a husband or benefactor, even though in her case that was not the truth. What if he told others where she lived? Would the men still wish to have her gamble at their tables? Would the women still include her in their gossip? She sent a furtive glance in the Duke’s direction. His hard profile was turned to her. He did not seem the type to spread tales.

  The carriage stopped before her, and she found she had little choice left. The Duke had his hand beneath her elbow and was propelling her up the small step and into the dark interior of the coach. “May I give the driver an address?” he queried.

  Jessica hesitated only a moment before answering clearly, “The Green Dragon.”

  She watched carefully for his reaction. He merely raised an eyebrow and then passed the information on to his driver. The Duke climbed in beside her, then there was a slight lurch as the carriage started up.

  Feeling the need to say something to him, she said shyly, “I hope I am not taking you too much out of your way, Your Grace.”

  “It is never out of my way to help a beautiful woman,” he answered with a grin, as he turned those damnable green eyes on her. “I understand you rarely lose at cards. Were you so troubled tonight because your husband will beat you for losing so badly?”

  Jessica sent him a sharp look. “I have no husband.”

  “Really?” the Duke murmured. “How long have you been a patron of Madame’s establishment?”

  “About a year.” Her answer fell involuntarily from her lips.

  “Your parents do not object to their daughter frequenting such a place?” he asked, his tone a mixture of concern and curiosity.

  “I really do not believe that should concern you, Your Grace, but since you ask, both my parents are dead,” she answered coldly. This man was infuriating. He had discovered more about her in a few short minutes than any of the other patrons of Madame’s had discovered in all the time she had been going there. And she had been silly enough to answer him.

  “I am sorry,” he said simply.

  His apology surprised her into one of her own. “You are forgiven, sir, provided you forgive me for being so sharp with you. I have no right to offend someone who is kind enough to offer me a ride to my door.” Her smile was genuine.

  “You need do nothing more than smile, my lady, and all is forgiven.” Ignoring her obvious reluctance to speak about herself, he asked, “You live with your guardian at the Green Dragon?”

  Jessica’s smile faded quickly as she stared at him. The man’s tenacity was incredible. Her temper flared at his question, yet she had enough common sense to realize that she should not anger him. He was a Duke, powerful and influential, and he was a man, strong and muscular. She was alone with him in his carriage, a dangerous circumstance.

  “Please,” she said firmly, “I would rather not discuss it.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her tone. “Of course,” he acceded coolly. He turned to watch the darkened streets pass.

  Jessica observed the Duke stare out the window and was relieved at his silence. He appeared to be ignoring her, and she was just as happy to be left to her own thoughts. His presence made her uncomfortable, and that alone gave her pause. No man had ever had that effect on her. What was it about him that made her afraid of his glance and shy away from his touch?

  Hoping that the journey to the Green Dragon would be over soon, she sat tensely against the soft leather cushion and clasped her hands together in her lap. The Duke rode easily with one booted foot up on the seat across from him. Damn him for being so relaxed. What did he care that she had lost a small fortune this night? He did not have a furious stepmother to face if he did not have enough money to bring home. Or the threat of marriage to someone who repulsed him. What did he know of bill-collectors and creditors? What did he know of grief at losing a loved one? Jessica turned and stared out her own window.

  The coach slowed and stopped before the inn. Jessica did not let on that she actually lived in the rooming house next door. She had decided that if this man wished to come looking for her, he would not find her where he thought she would be.

  In silence, the Duke helped her from the carriage. His hand remained on her elbow even after Jessica stood firmly on the ground. She could feel its warmth through her cloak and dress. Taking a step back so that he was obliged to drop his hand, she boldly looked up into his fa
ce. Once again, that strange mingling of fear and fascination slid through her. Quickly, she lowered her eyes.

  “Thank you for your kindness, Your Grace,” she murmured. “I should still have been left at Madame’s if you had not happened along.” She smiled shyly up at him.

  “It was my pleasure to help a fair maid in distress,” he said with an answering smile. “It was certainly a much better ending to the evening than I had anticipated. Having been so long away from home, I have lost track of many of my friends.”

  “How lonely for you,” she said, sympathetically. “Certainly, you will reacquaint yourself with them after a short time. After all, the season will be starting soon.”

  “Yes, that is true.” He nodded. “Perhaps I will make your acquaintance again at one of the balls or masques.”

  Jessica laughed at the irony of his statement. If her family had not fallen on such hard times and had it not been for Margaret, it might have been very possible that she would have met this man during the upcoming season. “Hardly, Your Grace. My name does not appear on any invitation list.”

  “If I knew what your name is, I could change that,” he offered.

  Wary at his gentle probe, Jessica stiffened. “That, Your Grace, is none of your business. Do not presume that because I accepted a ride from you, I am of easy virtue. I thank you for your generosity, and I bid you good night.” Nodding once, she turned on her heel and stalked away into the shadows. It did not even occur to her that she had completely passed by the door of the Green Dragon.

  Jessica slowly climbed the stairs to her room. Things had gone very badly this evening. But she could not give up. She would have to go back to Madame’s the following evening. There was no other place for her to go. She would not be allowed entrance to any of the clubs or private homes where the stakes would be high enough for her to regain what she had lost, and the other gaming houses would not accept her. In dejection, she pushed open the door to her room.

  When Jessica tossed the empty coin pouch on the bed, Donny remained silent. Gently, the little woman immediately set about helping her get ready for bed. After Jessica’s warm nightrail had been slipped over her head, she straightened her shoulders, as realization flashed through her mind.

  “Damn him!” she exploded, as her fist banged against the bedpost. “I will not allow him to mock me!” She turned to Donny and her blue eyes blazed. “I’m going back, Donny. I will show him that I am not to be trifled with. Do you know, I believe he dismissed my carriage this evening so that I would have to ride home with him? The audacity of the man!” Fuming, Jessica lapsed into silence.

  While Donny brushed out her hair, Jessica went over every hand that had been played. Somehow, the Duke had outwitted her every time. By the time she had crawled into bed, she was plotting how to get her revenge. She lay in bed and her eyes burned holes in the ceiling.

  Chapter 3

  Damien stood before his cheval mirror and examined his reflection critically. He nearly did not recognize himself, having been on that mission in France for so long. Scruff usually covered his cheeks and chin, and his floppy brimmed hat and long black cloak usually concealed his identity. The man who stared back at him was not the English spy, Le Chat, but a gentleman of society, the Duke of Wyndham. He looked forward to embracing his true persona. His attention, however, was not completely on the perfect fit of his wine-colored, superfine jacket and buff-colored riding breeches, nor on the soft gleam of his boots and the intricate new fashion of tying his stock. Rather he was thinking of the intriguing woman he had met at Madame du Barré’s gaming hell the previous night.

  The Lady Fortuna. She was a puzzle, but the most fascinating puzzle he had ever met. He had listened to the gossip about her at Madame’s, but had not really believed any of it. Until he met her. She was obviously well-bred and cultured, but as for her being the daughter of an earl, he was doubtful. She had played cards too well. He had beaten her, but he had seen the skill with which she played. No titled gentleman would allow his daughter to gamble, and certainly not at Madame du Barré’s. The chit had to be an adventuress, albeit a very desirable one. He could still envision her sitting next to him in the coach. She had been remote and alluring. After he had left her, he could still smell her fragrance lingering in the air. She would be a delightful diversion, just the thing to make him forget the hardships he had endured. The Duke smiled to himself in anticipation.

  Wilson, his valet, brushed the shoulders of his jacket and stepped back.

  “If I may presume to say so, Your Grace, you are looking like your old self again,” the valet offered.

  Damien’s eyes were mischievous as he caught Wilson’s in the mirror. “And what, pray, did I look like before, Wilson?” He was well aware he looked a wreck when he had appeared at the door of his London house a few days earlier.

  Wilson coughed uneasily. Damien watched his man for a moment, then relented. “That bad, eh? Well, those days are gone, Wilson. Where’s my hat?” He turned, and his valet handed him a tall beaver hat, soft leather gloves, and riding crop.

  “Good man.” Damien threw him a quick smile and then headed out.

  As he reached the bottom of the winding staircase, Jacobs, his majordomo, was waiting for him.

  “General Drayton is here, Your Grace,” the man said. “He is waiting for you in your study.”

  Damien’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “General Drayton, you say? How curious. Thank you, Jacobs.” He handed the man his hat, gloves and riding crop, then headed for his study.

  Upon entering the room, he was met by a gray-haired gentleman who wore his soldier’s uniform with distinction. He bowed formally to Damien. “Good morning, Your Grace,” he said.

  Damien hid a smile of amusement at the man’s formality. It was strange how roles could be reversed so quickly. “Good morning, General.” He held out his hand to his former commander and smiled warmly.

  The general shook Damien’s hand. “It appears that retirement agrees with you.”

  “It is so much easier than living in a hovel.” Damien motioned to a chair and the two men sat.

  “My visit will be brief,” the general said. He cleared his throat. “This is not a social call. We have a problem, and you are the only man who can help us.”

  The Duke raised a cynical eyebrow. “I seem to remember hearing those words when you first recruited me as a spy, George.”

  General Drayton smiled. “The problem is here in London,” he said, becoming serious. “Madame du Barré to be exact.”

  “The Barré, you say!” Damien shook his head. “A loss to the men of London.”

  “I daresay,” the general agreed dryly. “She is spying for Napoleon. We know it, but we can’t prove it. She rarely, if ever, leaves London, so we know she has someone relaying information to the coast. We captured her last courier, but the devil tried to escape on the way back to London, and he was shot by one of his guards.”

  Disbelief crossed Damien’s face. “God’s blood, General, how do you expect to win this war with such numskulls?”

  General Drayton’s gaze sharpened. “That was my thought exactly.”

  Damien sighed. “So, you want me to find out who the Barré is using as a courier and capture him for you.”

  “If you could, it would help us greatly.” The general leaned forward in his chair. “Damien, you know I would not ask this of you if there were any other way. You are known at Madame’s, and so will not arouse suspicion. My other men are not suited to this sort of thing as you are.”

  “Spare me the arguments, George,” Damien said caustically. He puffed out a breath. His gaze lifted to the walnut-paneled walls, the shelves of books, the portraits, as he gave himself a moment. Coming to a decision, he said, “I will do this one more thing for you, General, but I cannot afford to spend any more of my time in the service of His Majesty. I have to see to my own affairs which I have neglec
ted for too long. Besides, it has become too dangerous. I cannot jeopardize the lives of my men. Fouché, Napoleon’s Minister of Police, has come too close to discovering my identity and that of my men.”

  General Drayton nodded. “I understand perfectly, Your Grace.” He stood to leave. “Thank you, Damien. If there is ever anything I can do for you, please let me know.”

  After Drayton took his leave, Damien sank back down into his chair and stared thoughtfully after him. This assignment would not be all work. It might even be enjoyable. Although he regretted that London would lose a witty, entertaining lady in Madame’s arrest, he knew before that could take place, he would have to spend many nights at her establishment, a pleasant task. There was also a certain young lady with eyes like sapphires and hair like ebony whom he had met at Madame’s. He smiled. At least he could live in comfort and enjoy his pleasures while he accomplished his task. Whistling, he left the house for his ride.

  During the week after her encounter with the Duke of Wyndham, Jessica frequented Madame du Barré’s every evening. She had won back all she had lost, plus a sizable amount more. The stipend for her stepmother was secure. She was now playing to solidify her reputation as a shrewd gambler. She would be leaving for Braeleigh on the morrow, so this would be the last time she would be at Madame’s for several days.

  The gown Jessica was wearing this evening was of blue silk, the same color as Jessica’s eyes. The bodice was cut low and the skirt was composed of tiny, vertical pleats which rippled and clung to her body as she walked. It was a sensuous dress, made to cause heads to turn and keep men’s minds from the cards in their hands.

  Jessica arrived at Madame’s somewhat later than usual. After paying her respects to the woman and receiving her approval, she went to the private room where she would be playing cards. A game was already in progress when she arrived. One chair was empty, its back to the door. She recognized all of the players but one, who was in the chair to her right. Before she had time to speculate on the identity of the man, however, the round ended, and her presence was noted. The men stood as she approached the table.

 

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