She looked into his eyes, her breath still catching, even after a year. “You were right all along.” She’d never been happier to admit how wrong she’d been.
He was her perfect rogue.
Untitled
Lords of Scandal
Tammy Andresen
This is the free prologue to the Lords of Scandal series. I hope you enjoy meeting these devilishly sinful lords. They’ll each get their story by the time we’re through!
Duke of Daring
Marquess of Malice
Earl of Exile
Viscount of Vice
Baron of Bad
Let the debauchery begin…
Chapter One
Smoke and the sound of male laughter permeated the air, making a thick curtain about the table. This was the best part of the evening, as far as Jack was concerned. The crowd of drunken ne’er-do-wells had finally gone home. Now he and his friends sat about counting the money. A large pile of coins filled the center of the table; drunken ne’er-do-wells were good for one thing: spending.
In fact, Jack, The Earl of Effington, had amassed a small fortune through this gaming establishment, aptly named Den of Sins. Enough that his life was back on the path he was meant to tread. The path he’d been on before a treacherous woman had nearly destroyed him.
Just thinking about the Lady Cristina Hathaway, now the Countess of Abernath, made his skin crawl. How her husband still had any money left, or dignity for that matter, he couldn’t say. But healing the scars she’d left on his life had taken many years. Not only had she managed to run his accounts dry, she’d broken his heart when he’d found her in bed with his former best friend. He’d spent a great many years trying to repair the damage, some ways more productive than others.
He ran a hand through his dark blond hair. With the money he’d made at the Den of Sins, he’d returned his estate to its former glory, bought a London townhome, and participated in a full season. During that time, he’d found a lovely fiancée and their wedding was just weeks away.
Lady Emily Winchester was in every way the opposite of the countess. She was beautiful inside and out, so much so that he’d fallen madly in love. All these years had been worth the trouble because of her. Sometimes, he thought he’d clawed his way back from the pits of hell.
And while he enjoyed his friends at the Den of Sins, he wished to leave behind this part of his life. With his lands now supporting themselves, this would be one of his final nights living his double life in this gaming hell under his secret name, Effing.
The Duke of Darlington sat to his right; here he was known only as Daring. They wore masks in the club, though he suspected a great many of the den’s visitors had guessed their real identities. Still, there was plausible deniability with the names and the masks. “Tonight may be one of our best nights yet,” Daring rumbled, his dark and craggy features just distinguishable in the fog. “Business is booming. How can you contemplate leaving?”
Jack shrugged. “Fun as watching men waste their lives is, I’ve got my own life to begin.”
Malice, The Marquess of Malicorn, snorted from his other side, his razor-sharp looks and dark eyes piercing Jack. “What does marrying have to do with anything? So what if you’re about to marry and make little heirs? Why does that mean you have to stop whoring, gambling, and drinking?”
Exile laughed from across the table as his nimble fingers stacked coins. He was a strapping Scot with a shock of bright red hair. “Haven’t you been paying attention, Malice? The man hasn’t drank, whored, or gambled for months. Effing hasn’t been…well…effing around at all. He’s caught the dreadful disease.”
“Disease?” Bad coughed. The Baron of Baderness was the newest member of the group, his blond good looks making him look younger than all of the other men, despite being the same age.
“Love,” Exile gagged. “Cover your face or you’ll catch the vapors.”
All the men laughed, even Jack. He couldn’t deny the truth, he was completely and totally in love. He never wanted to touch another woman again as long as he lived. “Careful gentlemen or you could find yourself afflicted as well.”
“Fat chance,” Daring said. “But I could use a warm body or two. This weather is damn wet and cold. Has anyone sent for some girls?”
“Girls?” Malice curled his lip. “What would we want with girls? I sent for a passel of lovely women near an hour ago.”
The other men laughed again, but this time Jack didn’t. He pressed his lips together. At one time, he might have eagerly participated. But not anymore. Even before he’d fallen in love with Emily, he’d grown tired of the lifestyle. He still cared deeply for these men, would take a bullet for anyone of them, but he had no inclination to touch a dirty whore. “That’s my cue to retire for the evening.”
“Retire?” Bad called, pushing his chair back. “For heaven’s sake, why?”
He gave a small smirk. “Maybe it is for heaven’s sake.”
The other men laughed again, that low throaty chuckling men often did. Vice, the quietest man in the group, his dark looks carrying an almost dangerous edge, quirked a brow. “I’m sure none of us are going to heaven. Me least of all.”
The Viscount of Viceroy had a mysterious past that the other friends had learned not to ask about. “Likely not. But I promised Emily I’d attempt to make the last dance at the Edgmeres’ ball and I should like to see my promise met.”
Exile cleared his throat. “I doubt you’ll make it, Effing. It’s already half past two.”
Jack’s stomach clenched. This was another reason he needed to quit the club. Most of his free time was spent here and it wasn’t the first time he hadn’t fulfilled a promise to Emily. “Damn it all to hell.”
“Hell,” Exile guffawed. “That’s right. That’s where we’re headed.”
Bad narrowed his gaze. “Why do you care if you please her?”
Jack ran his hand through his hair, frustration making his voice curt. He’d grown tired of explaining desire for change to them and he worried how Emily would react to failure to once again appear when he’d promised. “Her happiness matters to me.”
The answer was met with silence. As Jack’s gaze swept across the table, men stared at him with open mouths, scrunched brows, and cocked heads. They simply didn’t understand.
“You’re tied to her skirts.”
He snorted. “Hardly. I’m sitting here with you, aren’t I?”
Daring shook his head. “You’re here with us in body but your spirit has already flown to her side.”
Vice thumped his chest with his hand. “We’ve lost him.”
Malice snorted. “I’ll drink to that. Effing is leaving us, but he won’t be forgotten.” Then he stood raising his glass. “Forever more he’ll—”
A knock interrupted his speech. “Excuse me, gentleman.” One of the men guarding the door opened it a crack. “But there is a group of lovely young ladies here to see you.”
Malice dropped his cup, his speech forgotten as a smile split his face. “Why are we wasting time talking? Show them in, good man.”
Jack grimaced as he tossed several coins back on the pile, ready to leave. This evening had gone to hell. What he didn’t yet know, but was about to find out, was how much worse it could get.
Lady Emily Winchester sat in the rocking carriage, jammed between her sister, Diana, and her cousin, Minnie. Across from them were two more of her sisters, Grace and Cordelia, and their other cousin, Ada.
A carriage filled with six women in a conveyance barely meant for four should have been a loud affair but the interior was silent. Except, of course, for Emily’s sniffles.
He’d done it again. Her fiancé, the Earl of Effington, had not attended an event he’d promised to be at. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. He’d promised to try and attend. But he’d had to make a trip into the country to see to his holdings and he wasn’t sure he’d make it back in time. At least that’s what he’d told her.
Except lately, she�
�d begun to wonder. Most lords did not need to return to the country so frequently, especially in late winter. The roads were a muddy mess. Was he lying to her? Her fears had gotten the best of her and tonight, when he hadn’t attended the ball, she’d gone to the powder room teary-eyed. The Countess of Abernath had followed her in.
The woman was beautiful in a way that made Emily shiver. Her features were perfectly symmetrical but drawn in hard lines, the blue of her eyes icy as her lips turned down in a cold frown. “Upset, darling?”
She didn’t know the woman at all, so the false endearment grated on Emily’s already frazzled nerves in addition to being in stark contrast to her looks. “Not at all. I always cry at the end of balls.”
The countess had trilled a fake laugh, the sound making Emily wince. “Of course you do. Especially with such a handsome fiancé who never escorts you to any of these events.” The woman had leaned in conspiratorially. “I’d be upset if I were you too.” She reached a hand out to touch Emily.
“I’m not upset. My fiancé isn’t here for good reason.” She’d straightened her spine. She didn’t like whatever this ice-cold woman was insinuating.
“And what reason did he give you exactly?” The countess swayed closer, her lithe body almost hypnotic.
Emily had frowned. “That’s not your concern.”
“You’re right, of course. I just don’t like to see another woman suffer.”
Without thought, Emily took a step back. “Suffer? Why would I be suffering? Lord Effington is a fine man who—”
The countess clucked her tongue. “Didn’t you know? Those who truly understand him don’t call him Effington, but Effing.”
What was she talking about? “Effing? What does that mean?”
The countess raised her perfectly arched brows. “I’ve heard the man is a master in the bedroom. I mean how could he not be after spending so much of his time at the Den of Sins.”
Cold, hard dread made her head faint and her knees weak. Had he really lied about his whereabouts? The name itself didn’t sound good. Disreputable and dangerous, most likely. And if her fiancé was a part of this place…she shuddered inside. “The Den of Sins?”
“Oh yes, darling. Over on Bedford Street. You’ll know the place. It’s next to the building marked with a W. In fact, I heard a rumor he’s there right now.” The Countess had patted her shoulder with a hand and then walked away, but not before Emily, eyes brimming with tears and blurry, caught her smirk.
The next half hour had passed in a blur as she’d relayed the story to her sisters about what had happened.
“The bastard,” Diana had spit, her dark hair flinging over her shoulder. “I knew he was too handsome to be that good.”
Emily wanted to protest. But how could she?
“We don’t know he’s actually done anything.” Grace, the youngest and fairest with shining blonde hair and large blue eyes, had pointed out as she patted Emily’s hand. “In the morning we’ll find him and—”
“Morning?” Emily croaked. She had to spend the entire night like this?
Cordelia, the second youngest, but always attempting to be the wisest, held up one of her slender fingers as she pushed up her spectacles. “We know where the establishment is. Why not go there now? Catch him in the act. That way there can be no doubt if you need to end the engagement.”
The group fell silent. Her cousin, Ada, was a sweet soul with beautiful auburn hair and stunning green eyes, but she was timid by nature, which she displayed in that moment. “That neighborhood? We couldn’t possibly.”
“There are six of us,” her sister, Minnie clucked, her coloring far more vibrant and her personality as well. “Don’t be a ninny.”
“But what if someone sees us,” Ada’s voice quavered.
“Oh, I know.” Diana clapped her hands. “The hostess had a basket of dominos by the door. We’ll use the masks to cover our identities.”
Ada frowned but fell silent as Diana and Minnie pulled Emily to standing. Her knees wobbled again but she locked them in place. “We’re really going to do this?” Then she straightened up her spine. “Yes. We’re doing this.” She clenched her fingers around Diana’s and Minnie’s. “What if it’s awful? What if I find him…” She swallowed. “If I cancel the wedding, I’ll be ruined.”
Inside, her heart shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. She wasn’t just marrying Jack, she loved him. Her reputation was honestly the least of her concerns.
“Worry about that after,” Grace whispered. “Let’s go before we change our minds.”
Together they started for the carriage.
Chapter Two
Jack tossed another coin on the pile, his gut clenched in dread. “I’ll leave all of you to finish the counting, but don’t let the whores near the money. You know what happened the last time.”
“Whores?” A feminine voice trembled from the doorway. It rang with a familiarity that made his chest tight, but he dismissed the feeling. They likely all sounded the same though he hadn’t meant to offend.
He shouldn’t care but he hated to hurt a woman’s feelings. “Tradeswoman, love, if it makes you feel bet…” The words died on his lips as he glanced up to give the woman his most charming smile. But a whore didn’t stand in front of him. Nor did a maid, or a beer wench. Standing in the doorway was Emily, wearing a domino that did nothing to disguise her identity. He’d know her anywhere. His heart sank to his knees. “I can explain.”
She wrapped her fingers about her neck. “I don’t need your explanation. I already understand.”
Two heads popped up on either side of her shoulders. He recognized her cousin and sister, Minnie and Diana. Suppressing a groan, he ran his hands through his hair. While he was glad she hadn’t travelled alone, somehow witnesses worsened the situation.
“What’s happening?” Diana hissed, nudging Emily forward.
Suddenly the flood gate opened, and women spilled into the room. Jack’s feet were planted to the floor.
“Hellfire and damnation,” Daring muttered. “I knew you getting married would be the death of us.”
“What does that mean?” Minnie huffed, her hand coming to her hip. Then her eyes narrowed in her domino. “Goodness gracious, you’re the Duke of Darlington.”
Daring gave a rumble of deep dissatisfaction as he stood, his chair crashing to the floor. “That is privileged information.”
Jack’s feet unstuck, as he stepped in front of his friend. These men had carefully guarded their identities for years. The whole place was about to crash down on their heads along with his impending marriage. “I’m sure these ladies will understand that they can never share with anyone what they saw here. It’s their reputations as well as ours.” He could only hope that would pacify Daring.
“So it is,” Malice rumbled low and deep, his eyes sweeping over the group of women.
Emily’s hands trembled as she clasped them in front of her. “What are we keeping secret exactly? That six lords sit in a room counting money and order in whores?” Her voice shook and a tear slid down her cheek from underneath the mask. “Your secret is safe with us. Jack, you’ll have to find a reason to end our engagement that does not destroy my reputation so that I might be able to—”
“End our engagement?” His voice was far louder than he’d intended and his heart, which had perhaps reached his stomach fell down into his shoes. “Emily. No. There is no need to end—”
“Come on.” Diana grabbed Emily’s hand. “We’re leaving.” Then Diana pointed at her cousin. “Ada, walk behind her in case she faints.”
“Me?” Ada dutifully stepped behind her cousin. “I’m the smallest, you know. If she goes down, she’s taking me with her.”
Vice actually chuckled and Jack sent him a look that promised death. Malice, who better understood what was happening, stepped behind the women and closed the door, locking it in place.
At least two of the ladies screamed. Another gasped and a fourth let out a huff of breath. That must have
been Diana because she let go of Emily’s hand and stepped toward Malice. “Open that door at once.” Her hands were on her hips and her chest puffed out as she lifted her chin. “I won’t ask again.”
“You need a lesson on how to speak to a gentleman,” Malice growled.
Diana sashayed toward him. “Are you threatening me?”
Exile stepped between them. Easily the largest man in the room, his brawny head dropped down toward Diana’s face. “Easy lass, no one wants trouble here. We all just need to talk for a minute, and we don’t need any interruptions. Everyone’s reputations are better served with some privacy.”
“Don’t placate her.” Malice said as he stepped up behind Exile. “She’s being rude and—”
Quick as a snake, Exile turned back to Malice, giving him a shove that sent the man crashing back into the door. “You’ll watch your tongue when speaking to a lady.”
Jack had barely taken his eyes from his soon-to-be bride but even he noted how protective Exile was over Diana. He gave Exile a questioning glance which the man ignored.
Emily swayed on her feet and his attention snapped back to her. He reached out and pulled her against his chest. “Darling, listen.”
“I’m not your love?” Her voice quavered, but her eyes were hard as she pushed against his chest. “You save that for your ladies of the night? Is that who you’re with every time you make a trip to the country?”
Damn. His fist clenched at his side. This was awful. “I would never hurt you,” he whispered, locking his gaze with hers so that she might see the truth. He brushed a lock of her silky brown hair. “I lost track of time, but I had every intention of meeting you at the ball.”
The Wicked Wallflowers: Regency Boxed Set (Chronicles of a Bluestocking) Page 41