The Dangerous Duke of Dinnisfree

by Julie Johnstone

  Mary waved her hand as she turned and started up the few steps to Jude’s back door. “Nothing. Just that he has an uncanny instinct for what people will do. He knew, absolutely knew, that the Duke of Dinnisfree would be entranced by you, and that, my friend, is no small feat you’ve accomplished. The Duke of Dinnisfree doesn’t play the fool for any woman, or so I’ve heard.”

  Arabella pressed her lips together as she followed Mary into the townhome. Justin had not been captivated by her charms. He’d not even been intrigued enough to require she also bed him as part of the bargain. She should be thrilled and relieved. And she was, but she also felt the tiniest bit lacking. Why didn’t she have that special something that would make a man fall hopelessly, give his life for her if necessary?

  She snorted. She’d read far too many romantic novels in the late hours of the night. Her head was full of unrealistic fluff. She was not the type of woman to inspire undying devotion. She was the type of woman to inspire a man to leave her when things became complicated. Men could not be counted on, except her dear papa, of course.

  Mary led her into the study where they found Jude. He was reclining on the settee with his feet propped up, papers in one hand and a tumbler in the other. He slowly lowered the papers as they walked in, and he smiled.

  “How are you?” Jude asked, peering at Arabella with concerned eyes.

  “She’s no longer pure,” Mary answered with a snicker before Arabella had a chance. Mary breezed past Arabella giving her a narrow warning look that Arabella interpreted to mean, He’s mine.

  Even if Arabella desired a man’s attention, it would not be a man like Jude. He was too… too soft and pretty. She preferred a man like… like Justin, devil take him. There was something broken about him that the nurturing part of her ached to fix, and he had a ruggedness that appealed to her. A sudden recollection swept through her of the way his strong hands had grazed up her thighs, causing incredible heat to pool deep in her belly and embarrassingly lower. Did he know how he’d affected her? Likely he did given the way he’d swaggered when he’d walked out of the bedchamber, like a gentleman who’d been told before exactly how his touch set a body to flames.

  “You’re blushing,” Jude said, interrupting her thoughts.

  She pressed her hands to her hot cheeks. “Er, yes.”

  “Did you find him pleasing?”

  She cast her eyes down to her slippered feet and nodded. “I wanted to thank you, Jude, for helping me. His Grace has asked me to be his mistress.”

  “Perfect.”

  She looked up, vaguely disturbed by Jude’s response. It was an odd choice of words, as if Justin taking her as his mistress somehow benefitted Jude. What a ludicrous thought. Jude was simply being nice and was glad for her. She fidgeted with her gown for a moment, aware Jude was watching her but struggling to find the words to ask for the favor she needed. She couldn’t tell Jude of what Justin really wanted, but the idea of lying yet again left a sour taste in her mouth. She swallowed her distaste. “His Grace would like to also find the woman you mentioned—Ruby.”

  She did not miss the quick look of satisfaction Jude gave Mary, nor her wink back to him. The hairs on the back of Arabella’s neck suddenly stood on end. Was the exchange between the lovers something more, something hidden between them?

  Jude swung his legs off the settee and leaned forward to set his tumbler and papers on the table. “Did he mention why?”

  Arabella caught the inside of her cheek for a moment, struggling to calm her nerves. “It seems he was in love with her long ago and tracked her here. He simply wants to ensure she’s well.”

  “He told you that? Those exact words?”

  Jude had leaned forward and rested his hands—one of which had a bandage stained with blood around it—on his knees, an intense look setting his face into hard lines. Arabella nodded, even as her heart thumped so loudly she was sure it gave away her nervousness. Sweat trickled down her sides, despite the sheerness of the gown Mary had insisted she don. She had to change before she left.

  “Yes,” she asserted. “Do you happen to know where I can find Ruby? I’m to get a bonus if I can help him, and I could dearly use the money.”

  Jude stood and strode to her with Mary hovering behind him. “Ruby has gone to work at Crockford’s Club. I’m sure the duke knows the gambling hell. It’s a favorite amongst his group.”

  “Thank you, Jude,” Arabella said and impulsively hugged him. Jude stiffened for the slightest moment but then returned the embrace, pulled back, and gazed into her face.

  “Be careful, little bird. The Duke of Dinnisfree is known to be a dangerous man.”

  “What do you mean?” Arabella asked.

  Mary was suddenly between them. She grabbed Arabella and thrust her gown into her arms. “He means the man is dangerous to women’s hearts. Guard yours judiciously.”

  Arabella took her gown. “My heart is not involved, believe me. This is a business deal only.”

  Jude nodded. “Very good. Now that we’ve settled that, you better go change. You can use my bedchamber. Mary will show you the way. When you’re ready, I’ll take you home.”

  “No,” Arabella replied. “But thank you. I’d rather my father not see anything and possibly become suspicious.”

  Jude scowled at her. “You cannot walk the streets of London at night alone, and I doubt a man in ill health such as your father waits up for you. Does he?”

  Arabella stilled as she studied Jude. “How do you know my father is in ill health? I never told you that.”

  Jude cleared his throat. “You did.”

  “No, I—” Arabella pressed her fingertips to her temples. She was very tired and her thoughts were not near as clear as they needed to be, but she could have sworn she’d been very vague about her parents. Hadn’t she? She tried to recall the exact words of her conversation with Jude, but she could not. “Perhaps I did,” she answered lamely. “But in any case, he does wait up for me.” Nor was it even that late yet. Her father never went to bed before ten, especially after attending his monthly card games.

  “Then I’ll simply drop you at the corner near your house. That will eliminate any danger of his seeing me and asking questions.” Jude turned to Mary. “Show Arabella to my bedchamber so she can change her gown.”

  Arabella followed Mary down a dark hall and up the creaky stairs. As Mary opened the door to a large room containing only a bed on a dais and one wardrobe, Arabella was once again struck with how impersonal and bare Jude kept his home. She glanced around the room, looking for any trinkets that would make this room his and not simply anyone’s, but she saw nothing. Not a brush, a picture, a book—nothing. Nothing that would tell you a thing about the man, who he was, what impassioned him.

  She paused inside the doorway, wanting to ask Mary if she knew, but her words needed to be chosen carefully. She doubted Mary would freely give answers. “Mary,” she said to the woman’s back as she lit some candles, “Tell me how you and Jude met. I know he was your first client. Did Madame Sullyard pick him for you?”

  Mary swung around and raised a candle between them, the flame flickering and casting shadows across her face. She shook her head. “No. He rescued me from one of Madame’s patrons. The man who was to be my first lover was giving me a beating for daring to have an opinion different than his own.” She snorted. “Lucky for me, Jude intervened.”

  Arabella worried her lip. “Jude seems to be in the habit of rescuing people.” She was torn. Part of her wanted to believe Jude truly was helping her out of the kindness of his heart, but there was another part of her that had the suspicion he was using her. Yet how and why she could not say.

  Mary nodded as she flicked her gaze to the door. “You better change quickly. Jude doesn’t like to be kept waiting, nor does he like me to talk about him.” The words were pointed. Arabella nodded, but she was determined to learn a bit more about this man who had taken her under his wing. She just needed to do so in a roundabout way.


  “What was it that you and the patron were disagreeing about when Jude came to your rescue?”

  Mary’s face darkened. “Oh, the rat,” she grumbled. “He said that Princess Charlotte died in childbirth because the queen was being punished by God for her adultery.”

  Arabella sucked in a sharp breath. That was a hideous thing to say, and Arabella could not believe such behavior of the queen was true. Her father had always said how kind Queen Caroline was, and despite the king’s obvious dislike for his own wife, Papa had mentioned on several occasions that the queen only had kind and supportive words for the king. Of course, Papa had also joked, What else could the queen do? She was a smart lady, after all.

  A huge lump formed in her throat. Her father was the most wonderful man. She didn’t think most men gave a thought to how the queen must have felt being married to a man who held so little regard for her.

  Mary clucked her tongue, snapping Arabella out of her thoughts. “My own sister died in childbirth, and I can promise you it was not ’cause my mama was adulterous. It made me so mad I forgot to hold my tongue, and I told him maybe Princess Charlotte’s death was to punish the fat, filthy, immoral king and not our good Queen Caroline.”

  Arabella’s thoughts tumbled in her head. Jude was sleeping with Lady Conyngham, who was sleeping with the king, and Jude seemed to care for Mary but not so very much for Lady Conyngham. Was it just lust, then? She assumed Jude’s sympathies lay with the queen, so did it not bother him to bed a woman who slept with a man he held in such low regard, even if he was the king? Who knew with men… Jude probably felt it some great accomplishment to bed a woman who the king also bedded.

  Arabella shivered. No doubt that could cost Jude his life if he was ever discovered. “Jude took your side, I assume.”

  “Certainly,” Mary crowed. “Jude worships the queen as do all good English folk. Say”—Mary eyed her—“don’t tell me you’re for the king?”

  “Of course not!” Arabella exclaimed. From the little she had learned from her father’s occasional comments and the bit she’d read and heard in Town, it seemed the king was, indeed, an immoral man. He thought to rid himself of the queen by any means necessary, including destroying her character. Yet, Arabella was not foolish enough to speak against the king or queen to anyone she did not truly know and trust, which was her father alone.

  She chose her words with caution. “I’m for husbands and wives being true to each other.”

  Mary nodded. “Me too. That’s why I love Jude. He is true to me, though we’re not married yet.”

  Arabella swung away, afraid her face would reveal what she knew. She was disgusted with Jude for allowing Mary to think he was faithful. If he truly cared for Mary why not rescue her from the profession? “I better change. It’s getting late.”

  She heard the shuffle of Mary’s feet as the woman moved toward the door. “Come to the study when you’re finished.”

  Once the door shut, Arabella let out a relieved breath. She was grateful to Jude for helping her, but she didn’t like that she felt he was not who he seemed, nor did she like knowing he’d been untrue to Mary with a woman who was the king’s mistress. Arabella would likely never see Jude again, since she now knew where to find Ruby, so there was no point fretting about any of it.

  She dressed quickly and made her way to the study. She stopped just outside the closed door when she heard Jude’s raised voice mention her. She bit down on her lip and pressed closer to the door to hear.

  “Damn it, Mary, I told you to watch your words with her!”

  “You barely know her and you act as if you care more for her welfare than mine!”

  “Don’t be absurd,” he thundered. “I told you that she reminds me of my sister.”

  “Oh, Jude!” Mary cried out, and then her words became mumbled.

  Arabella sucked in a long, slow breath to try to calm her racing heart. Was Jude so private that he wanted Mary to mind what she said, or was it something else entirely? She’d never get answers standing out here. She pushed her shoulders back, gathering her courage, and knocked on the door.

  “Come in, Arabella,” Jude called.

  Just as she was opening the door, Jude’s butler, Mr. Saxton, appeared out of the shadows and swept her aside to open the door for her. Arabella gaped at his back. Had the man been standing in the shadows watching her eavesdrop? Her skin prickled.

  She rushed into Jude’s study. “I’d like to go now, if it pleases you. My father will be worried if I’m late.”

  “We cannot have your father worried,” Jude replied, and within minutes, they were headed to his carriage, which the butler, who apparently also had the job of readying Jude’s horses, was awaiting them. Jude handed her up and then climbed aboard the carriage himself and took the reins. As he moved the horses toward the street, she was about to give him instructions to her home when he turned the carriage in exactly the right direction.

  She tensed. It certainly could have been a lucky guess. She was being silly. Jude could not know where she lived. Except within minutes, she realized that he did. He knew precisely where she lived, and he made every turn without asking or hesitating.

  She gripped her hands in her lap, listening to the revolutions of the carriage wheels against the street. Fear numbed her, but she forced herself to face him so she could see his reaction to what she was about to say. “I never told you where I lived.”

  Jude’s humming immediately stopped. He flicked his gaze to her and then back to the road. “Of course you did.”

  “No.” Her pulse raced so furiously she felt dizzy, weak, clammy yet cold. She scooted as far away from Jude as she could get, yet kept her gaze on him. “No,” she said again. “I never told you where I lived, and I never told you my father was in ill health. Pull over.” Her voice quivered ever so slightly.

  Jude kept driving, though it did seem he was slowing the horses. “Arabella, don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Pull over or I’ll jump.”

  To her utter relief, he drew the reins back and maneuvered the horses to the side of the empty street. He turned toward her, his expression unreadable in the shadows cast from the trees.

  She wanted to flee, but she could not. This man had set up her meeting with Justin and she could not escape the gnawing sense that it had been for a reason other than helping her. “You are using me,” she accused. “You are using me for something to do with the Duke of Dinnisfree and I want to know what. If you refuse to tell me the truth, I simply won’t see him.”

  “Of course you will,” Jude said in a smug tone. “You need the money. What choice do you have at this point?”

  She didn’t have much of a choice, but she’d make one nonetheless. She stood abruptly, intent on leaving, but Jude caught her wrist and held tight. Her pulse sped up as she looked at him.

  He rose above her. “I’m sorry. Please sit, and I’ll tell you what you want to know.”

  She hovered there, caught by uncertainty. Could she trust Jude? Did she have a choice other than marching away from him and Justin and selling her body? Her head ached, but she sat and faced Jude. “Who are you? Really. And what is it you want from me?”

  Jude scrubbed a hand over his face, then spoke. “I’m a Bow Street Runner, and I’m working undercover to take down a smuggling ring. I need your help, but I must be able to count on you.”

  She slumped back against the carriage seat, wary yet relieved. If Jude was telling her the truth, it explained his odd behavior and the empty townhome that he likely didn’t really live in. “What does your assignment have to do with His Grace, and how or why do you need me? I cannot fathom how I could help you.”

  Jude nodded. “I understand. Neither could I when my boss, the man you met at the townhome earlier, suggested I find a woman to get close to Dinnisfree. You see, we suspect he’s part of a smuggling ring, and we’ve tried to maneuver one of our men into his confidence so we may be certain, but he won’t let anyone close. He trusts no one.”

&n
bsp; But Justin had trusted her.

  Her temple throbbed in time with her heartbeat. He had told her he was looking for Ruby because he was searching for a man who had stolen something from him, but he’d never said what. She felt ill. Every way she turned, deception greeted her, but she could see no other real choice, despite her blustering that she would leave.

  And go where? her mind taunted. Do what? “What can I do?” she finally managed to ask, her throat dry and her mind racing.

  “You are to be a distraction. We cannot accuse a man such as the Duke of Dinnisfree of being a smuggler without proof. We need proof. I need proof. You must gain his confidence. Get him to tell you exactly what he’s doing and why he’s looking for Ruby. We believe her lover is part of the smuggling ring, but she won’t tell us.”

  “So you have Ruby?”

  Jude nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. We’ll keep moving her, but make it seem as if she was just where you lead Dinnisfree.”

  Arabella rubbed her arms to ward off the chill that had taken hold of her. “Whyever do you think he would trust me? He doesn’t even know me.” And she didn’t know what to believe.

  “Because you are good. He will sense it as I do. And you are innocent of wrongdoing. Innocence is beguiling to men such as Dinnisfree and myself, my dear.”

  “And what sort of men are the two of you?” she demanded, fighting against her fear.

  “Men who lost their innocence so long ago they’ve forgotten the feeling but who long to remember it.”

  “You speak as if you know His Grace.”

  “I’ve watched him long enough that I feel as if I know him as well as I understand myself,” Jude replied. “Just as I feel I know you.”

  She shivered at the way he was looking at her, as if he really did know her. She inhaled slowly. “And what of honor?”

  He shook his head. “It was not honorable of me to lie to you, but I swear I will never put you in a situation that will endanger your life.”

  “Of course not,” she snapped, slicing a hand through the air. “You’d only trick me into losing my innocence and becoming a man’s mistress so you could use me.”