Duked: Duke One, Duke Society Series

by Robinson, Gina

  Axe gave him a dirty look. "That's your third piece."

  Hardly shrugged. "At my age, I eat what I like. What is it going to do? Kill me?" He laughed so hard he broke into a coughing fit.

  Axe handed him a napkin and pushed his water closer to him.

  "There was no other way?" I asked.

  The two dukes shook their heads.

  "Not that we could see," Axe said. "We're a lot sharper than we look."

  "We were always intelligent," Hardly added. "Our bodies may be failing, but our minds are still topnotch. Marrying Ren off was the only way to save the dukedom. He wasn't going to do it on his own. He'd been stringing Lady Cory along for years."

  That much was true, at least.

  "But you have to know, living at the castle will kill Ren's spirit." I tried not to let my protective anger and frustration show. "He's a different man in London. Happy. But here…" I shook my head. "It's an impossible task. And not fair to Ren. I can't ask it of him."

  Axe covered my hand with his old, gnarled one. "You can save Ren, my dear. We have complete faith." He grinned and winked at Hardly.

  "What are you two up to?" I said. And then it dawned on me. "Are you still trying to manipulate us? What else did Manly ask you to do?"

  "To keep an eye." Axe patted my hand. "And give you any help you ask for." He held up an arthritic finger before I could ask the obvious. "Anything that helps accomplish the goal."

  I leaned close to them and spoke as loudly as I dared. Hardly was selectively hard of hearing. "Were you at the castle the night of Will's accident?"

  "No," Axe said. "Neither of us. We only heard about it later from Manly. What we can tell you is only hearsay told to us by Manly. We're not reliable sources."

  "What we have to say wouldn't be admissible in court," Hardly added. "You should understand—Manly was an unreliable narrator. Even with his closest friends, us, he liked to keep up his image and make himself look good."

  "He wouldn't have told us anything that didn't shine a positive light on himself, that's true," Axe said. "But he wouldn't necessarily have lied."

  "Except by omission," Hardly said. "Manly always left out the best stuff."

  I was losing track just listening to their exchange. "Let me decide what's useful. What did he tell you?"

  "Zoe claimed to see the white lady the night before her death," Hardly said solemnly. "That seems significant and may be helpful."

  "Zoe believed the myth that a bride-to-be seeing the white lady before her marriage was a bad omen," Axe said. "Though there's no proof of that."

  "Zoe was terribly superstitious and easily frightened by ghost stories," Hardly said. "She claimed seeing the white lady so near her wedding meant death was near."

  "If you can believe Zoe," Hardly said. "She was dramatic, to say the least. But she did die the next day."

  "I've heard that rumor," I said, not finding the curse very helpful. "I guess I'm safe now that I'm married." I lowered my voice. "Manly's second wife saw the white lady on the eve of her wedding to Manly, and she died tragically."

  Hardly gave me a sympathetic look. "She died several years later. You can bend coincidence to fit any story."

  "Utter nonsense," Axe said. "That curse is utter nonsense."

  "If the white lady was so dangerous to engaged women, and Zoe believed that, why were she, Will, and Ren in the white lady's room night after night trying to catch a glimpse of her?" I asked.

  "I don't think she did believe it," Hardly said. "Until she saw her, or thought she did. Her imagination had a habit of playing tricks on her."

  Axe rolled his eyes. "Because they spread that bit of nonsense to keep people away. They could do whatever they wanted in that room and no one would disturb them. Why take a chance?"

  "And why disturb and anger the crazy woman?" Hardly said. "Zoe was the real threat. She was quick to anger and tirades. And she had great influence over the future duke. Manly was nearly ninety back then. No one expected him to live another ten years. If they were honest, really, they expected him to die imminently. Upsetting the future duchess was career suicide."

  "No one tried to talk me out of it when I insisted on staying there before the wedding," I said, shivering and wondering if I'd been wished ill from the beginning.

  "Harris and Libby are infinitely sensible," Axe said. "They don't believe in that rubbish. It's a beautiful room. Why would they deny you it?"

  I swallowed hard. "Anything else about that night?"

  "Manly and Will had a terrible fight," Axe said.

  Hardly ate more cake and nodded. "Horrible. Their worst. It haunted Manly later. He went for a drive to calm his mind—drove right past the spot in the river where Will was drowning, as it turned out."

  "What?" This was new information.

  "He didn't know at the time, of course," Axe said. "After the fight with Will, he'd gone to bed and tried to sleep, but was unable. He was so angry and upset with Will, he said. Sometime later, while lying in bed wide awake, Manly heard Zoe roar off in her car. He didn't think anything about it at the time. She kept late hours and would sometimes take off without warning. Later, he learned that she and Ren were racing Will to hospital after he overdosed. Shortly after hearing Zoe leave, Manly got out of bed and went for a drive himself."

  "He saw Ren sitting on the riverbed and pulled over to offer him a ride home," Hardly said. "He said Ren was acting odd and seemed to be in shock. It wasn't like Ren to go swimming on such a cold night. Finally, Manly got the story out of Ren and went for help. Ren's phone was ruined. Manly had forgotten his phone, so he had to either drive to the village or back to the castle. It was closer to the village, so that's where he decided to head. He told Ren to stay put and keep his eye on the spot where the car went into the river so they could find it in the dark. He left Ren his coat."

  Axe nodded along with the story. "Ren got confused and thought Manly had been gone longer than he had. Shortly after Manly left, Ren panicked and flagged down another car, a couple of villagers out for a late-night drink. He was nearly run over in the process. The village men had a phone and called emergency services."

  "Obviously, by the time help arrived, it was too late," Hardly said. "And the villagers blamed poor Ren."

  "Overdosed," I said, even more on alert. "On what? I thought he had alcohol poisoning—"

  "Alcohol poisoning?" Axe snorted. "Maybe that, too. That boy was addicted to anything he touched. But no, he'd overdosed on coke."

  "Coke?"

  Hardly nodded. "Ah, Manly didn't tell you in his letter, like we advised. He should have been upfront. Yes, Will was a cokehead. He'd been addicted for quite some time, really. Where do you think a big part of the money went?"

  "None of that was in the reports," I said.

  "Manly covered it up," Axe said. "For the family's sake. He didn't want the Sattler name sullied. There were people who knew about Will's habit, of course. But, as I believe you Americans say, you grease the right skids, you can make the problem disappear."

  "The autopsy says Will drowned," I said.

  "And he probably did," Axe said. "While having a major heart attack caused by the overdose. Manly didn't want an autopsy. He refused permission. But that didn't stop the authorities from performing a toxicology screen."

  A heart attack, like Manly had died from. This was too much to take in all at once. I was reeling. "What was the fight about?"

  "What it was always about—Will's debts and reckless, wild behavior," Axe said."

  "And his gambling," Hardly added. "He was addicted to that, too, Manly thought."

  "Will had an addictive personality," Axe said. "He was a coke addict, a compulsive spender, an obsessive gambler, and a habitual drinker. No, Manly wasn't pleased. If Will inherited, he'd lose the estate almost immediately, of that there was no doubt. Manly threatened to disinherit him and leave the estate to Ren. Nothing Manly could do about the title going to Will."

  My blood ran cold. This didn't look good for R
en. "Does anyone else know about the fight?"

  "Only you and Ren, my dear," Axe said. "I wouldn't share it with anyone else if I were you."

  After the funeral reception, everyone left, including my mom, Ren's parents, and the old dukes, despite being invited to stay. No one wanted to intrude on the honeymooners. Mom, of course, was too busy running an empire. The old dukes were more comfortable in their own beds. Coming to Manly Manor had been an exertion for them.

  I told Ren I liked his parents and thought they were lovely. I didn't tell him what Bendi had said about foxglove. Or what the old dukes had told me about the night of the accident. And I couldn't force myself to ask him about his fight with Manly.

  "Mom caught you for a private talk," Ren said as we got ready for bed. "Grill you, did she?"

  I looked at him, wondering who he really was—the beautiful, smart, talented, witty man I was falling in love with, or a ruthless man who'd kill for a castle and title. "No, in fact. She told me to be good for you."

  "You mean good to me." He pulled me close.

  "No, good for you."

  "Is that an option? Can you choose to be good for me?" He looked amused.

  "Apparently."

  "Mom's a puzzle. We'll have to trust her wisdom." He nuzzled my neck. "We did it. We survived the funeral. You were brilliant."

  "Thanks." I was spying behind his back. I was a traitor. "Ren, why did you lock the door to the white lady's room when you left for London?"

  "What?" His confusion seemed genuine. "That's a non sequitur."

  "Just something I've been wondering about and meant to ask you earlier. I needed the room cleaned," I lied. "When I went to open it, it was locked. I had to hire a locksmith to let me in. Someone had taken all the keys. I don't need a repeat of that when you leave this time." I tried to sound jokey.

  "You think I locked the room?" He sounded almost offended. "I don't even know where all the keys are. I could have maybe found one. Uncle kept a set of keys in his office."

  "Sorry," I said. "My mistake. But I don't understand—who would lock that room?" And then it hit me—the old dukes, of course. They could have bribed anyone on the staff to do their bidding. It was their way of pointing me in the right direction.

  "I don't know. Harris, maybe?"

  "He denied it. Besides, he wouldn't have stolen all the keys."

  Ren tipped my face toward his. Our gazes met. "Please, Bliss. I'm asking you this time—stay out of that room." He swallowed hard. "Nothing good ever happens there."

  "Ever is a long time," I said softly. "I understand, though. Will overdosed in that room. Naturally, it has a bad association for you." I watched Ren's reaction closely.

  He set his jaw and got a tic in his cheek. He was determined not to talk about it.

  I should have let it drop. But I wasn't known for doing what I should have. "I wish you'd trust me enough to tell me what happened that night, Ren. At least in that room. The three of you were doing coke—"

  "No," he said fiercely. "I wasn't doing coke. Will and Zoe, yes. Freebasing."

  I gasped. I shouldn't have been surprised, given what I'd heard. Somehow, I'd naively thought they'd just been snorting.

  "Who told you?"

  "It doesn't matter," I said, gathering my courage. "But you used? Use?" I'd seen no evidence he used now, but I wanted to hear it from him.

  "Used. I haven't used since that night."

  "You quit cold turkey?"

  "I was never an addict."

  "But you freebased?"

  There was pain in his eyes. "Once. The night I slept with Zoe again after she and Will were engaged." He took my hand. "You don't want to hear this—"

  "I do," I said. "I won't judge. I promise. You used coke once? And you freebased?"

  "No, I used many times—snorted. Zoe got me started. At the party where I met her. I was in a rebellious phase. Doing coke seemed glamorous. It was a social thing, cutting lines at parties or with friends. You could be a big man snorting coke from a rolled bill. But I was always a social user, like being a social drinker." He took my hand. "You never used?"

  "No."

  "Then you don't know what it's like." He hung his head and played with my hand.

  "No. Tell me. Help me understand."

  "I never needed the high. If you need the high, like Will and Zoe did, it's a different thing. They needed the high for confidence as much as anything. And for the euphoria and mood enhancement. To handle the stress of life." He paused. "Neither Will nor Zoe were strong people. They needed something to help them cope. Will had invested in a struggling startup. He couldn't handle the pressure. Couldn't relax. That's why he started using.

  "I didn't see the big deal, really. I'd heard so many awesome things about cocaine and the high it gave you. I thought it was disappointing. Not much of a high—a burst of energy, a bit of confidence, a slight lift in mood. A couple of cups of coffee or a few energy drinks would do the same and be safer and cheaper. The high only lasted fifteen to twenty minutes. The energy stimulant a little longer."

  "That wasn't enough for Will and Zoe?" I asked.

  "No." Ren looked tormented. "They graduated to freebasing. Their addiction bonded them. It's how they became a couple."

  "The one time you freebased? Zoe gave it to you? You did it with her?"

  "Yeah. I shouldn't have. I was stressed. She convinced me, telling me the high was better than an orgasm."

  "And was it?"

  He smiled softly. "Not better than an orgasm with you."

  "Flatterer, are you? Is that your new pickup line? An orgasm with you is better than a hit of cocaine? It works on the ladies, does it?"

  I got a small smile out of him.

  "It was better than an orgasm with Zoe." He sighed. "I told you I was high. I was high on coke, very high. And horny as hell, which was what Zoe was counting on. And euphoric and invincible. I lost any sense of boundaries. I thought I was still in love with her. She came on to me. Excuses, really. The high was powerful, but very short. Will walked in on us in the act. I laughed."

  My eyes went wide.

  "Yeah. Not your common reaction. If he'd been a different kind of man, he would have killed us. Will just shrugged and took a hit to calm his anger. He could never be mad at Zoe long. She had him wrapped around her finger. As for me, he knew he'd betrayed me by taking up with her. He wasn't stupid. He knew what he'd done to me." Ren was silent a moment. "I quit after that. I'd betrayed my brother. I'd betrayed myself. That was enough."

  I hugged him tight and stroked his hair.

  "We should brick that room up."

  "We can't," I said gently. "It's the most haunted room in the castle. It's our main selling point. I've already promised my ghost-hunting team that they can set up there. People love being scared. People will pay good—"

  Ren grabbed me by both arms. His eyes flashed. His chest heaved. "We'll discuss it later. We're both tired."

  "Do you believe what they say about the white lady? That it's a bad omen if a bride-to-be sees her before her wedding? That it can even mean her imminent death?"

  "That's nonsense."

  "Zoe saw her the night before she died."

  Ren stared at me. "Who told you that?"

  "Did she?"

  "Zoe had a vivid imagination. I'm sure she imagined she did. Or hallucinated her."

  "I'm sorry." I cupped his cheek. "Ren, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought her up—"

  He swept me into his arms and carried me to the bed. "I'm sorry, too."

  And then we made love, desperate, passionate love.

  Chapter 23

  Ren left for London the next afternoon. I would have begged him to take me with him. I wanted to go with him and leave all this behind. But I knew if I went, he'd never heal, and the mystery and suspicion between us would always be a barrier.

  Instead, I clung to him desperately in front of his car. "Come back to me. Come back to me soon."

  "I'll be back Friday afternoon." He
pulled me tightly to him. "I wish you'd come with me to London. I can't entice you?"

  "I'm enticed. Every minute. It would be so easy to just chuck it and live with you in your beautiful house of glass. But someone has to stay here and oversee things. The contractors arrive tomorrow. And the ghost hunters—"

  "The ghost hunters." For some reason, those amused him. "So they can catch shadowy, blurry images on video, and EVPs to play for the guests?"

  "Skeptic."

  "Be careful, Bliss. I— I don't want you to get hurt."

  "I have no intention of being hurt."

  After Ren left, I was left to myself. Even with Harris and Libby living in, I felt alone in the castle. It was that large. A castle was never really meant to be occupied by a single couple. I didn't know how Manly stood living alone there for so long. I was eager for the contractors to show up, for the noise of modern equipment and the bustle of people around. I was eager for the rooms to be filled with guests and the castle with staff. I wanted this place to be alive again.

  But none of that would begin to happen until the morning. Which left me alone with my thoughts and at odds. I had plenty to do. Plenty to plan. But I was drawn to the white lady's room.

  I supposed, given everything that had happened in that room, all the tragedy and deaths, and all the spooky things that had happened to me, that I should be afraid. Instead, I was oddly at peace. It felt like the answer to all my questions was here.

  I took out my phone and brought up the patterns of Ren's closet. I was intent on matching them to the walls of this room. I found, as I did, that Ren must have created the patterns from memory. They weren't exact. They were close. It made sense—he'd told me the room had been closed for years and that he hadn't been back to the castle until the wedding. Given that, his memory was surprisingly accurate.

  I followed the patterns along one wall and the next, looking for the numbers on the stones that marked the secret hiding place in Ren's closet. I didn't find it on my first pass of the room and closet. On the second pass, I remembered Ren's speech at our wedding reception and the tapestry hiding his childhood scribbles. I looked behind the paintings and wall hangings. I found the bricks hidden behind a faded tapestry.