Duchess Beware
(Secrets & Scandals, Book 2)
by
Tiffany Green
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Duchess Beware
COPYRIGHT © 2015 by Tiffany Green.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information : [email protected]
Cover Art by Fiona Jayde Media
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my husband, John Green. My real-life hero who always believes in me. This one’s for you, honey.
Prologue
Kelmscott, England 1818
Please, God, no!
Silver MacLaren sat frozen before her guardian as he dipped his pen in the ink, his announcement still ringing in her ears. Her pounding heart drowned out the soft dove calls drifting in through the open window. Uncle Edward moved his pen over the polished oak, and she gripped her hands together in her lap, praying she could get through this without falling apart. She held her breath. Perhaps God would take pity and make her uncle change his mind.
The pen hovered a moment, and Silver wondered if her prayer had been answered. She willed her uncle to grab up the parchment and tear it to pieces. A drop of black ink fell from the end of the pen, splattering just under the name already scrawled on the document. She tried not to think of that man or what this meant.
Uncle Edward started to sign his name, and Silver sprang up from her chair, her shock giving way to sheer panic. “You cannot do this. Please…” Her voice trailed away when he lifted his thinning gray head and pierced her with a hard glare. His left eye twitched and Silver gripped the sides of her dress, knowing that look well.
She glanced around, hoping to find the right words to dissuade her uncle from going forward with this horrible plan. Her gaze darted from the legal books lined neatly in the shelves at her left to the collection of snuff boxes on the oak fireplace mantle at her right. Nothing came to her.
“Sit down,” he snapped. “You’re not changing my mind.”
Silver drew in a slow, deep breath and faced her uncle, her panic ceding to the anger igniting low in her belly. Something had to be done to stop this madness. Now. She placed her palms on the cool desk and leaned forward. “I am not marrying that man.”
The rage that sprang to his bright blue eyes nearly made her gasp. Then he leaned back in his chair. “Victor Merrick is a very wealthy gentleman. You’ll not want for anything.”
Silver was shaking her head before he finished. “I don’t care.” She straightened and wrapped her arms around her middle. How could she explain that just being near that man made her skin crawl?
Uncle Edward narrowed his eyes. “You will agree to the marriage and be happy about it.” He held up his hand as she started to speak. “Or I’ll throw Prudence out of my house without a shilling.” His lips spread into a chilling smile. “You know as well as I the old crow wouldn’t last a month.”
As her body went numb and cold, Silver stumbled back into her chair before her knees gave way. Her eyes slid shut, knowing he had won. Dear, God! Her uncle scratched his signature across the parchment, and she bowed her head. There was no going back now.
The door swung open with a bang, making her jump. She turned and found her great-aunt marching forward. “Edward, have you lost your mind?”
Scowling at those words, he rose from his chair. Although the man was short and built like a barrel, his commanding manner made him seem as though he towered over everyone in the house. “This is none of your concern, Prudence.”
“This most certainly is my concern.” Aunt Prudence rounded the desk to stand before her nephew. “How could you possibly sign that betrothal contract? Silver would never—”
“Agree to the match?” Edward crossed his arms over his chest and twisted his thick lips into a nasty grin.
Prudence sucked in a breath and drew back. She turned to Silver with raised brows and alarm shining in her dark eyes. “Tell me you didn’t agree, child?”
Words wouldn’t form on Silver’s bone-dry tongue. How could she explain? How could she admit to Uncle Edward’s threats and scare the dear lady like that? But the truth began to dawn and Prudence slowly turned back to her nephew. “You are a monster, Edward. Every bit as horrible as the other man on that contract.”
Silver shivered, her stomach going tight and queasy at the reminder of the betrothal.
Aunt Prudence crossed her arms. “What are those large Scots going to say about this, I wonder?”
Edward’s smirk slid right off his face. “Do not push me, Prudence.”
“Just think about what Silver’s half-brothers might say or do if they’re not told?”
Pulling at the tip of his white-gray mustache, Edward narrowed his eyes. “What are you suggesting?”
Prudence, the only person alive who could out manipulate Edward, shrugged a shoulder. “Silver’s brothers would surely want to be told about the betrothal. She should be allowed to go and tell them.”
Silver’s heart lurched sharply. Scotland? A buzzing noise filled her ears as Prudence and Edward continued to argue. How on earth could she ever go back there?
Chapter One
“Just pitch it overboard.”
Daniel Claiborne, the Duke of Huntington, juggled the miniature, almost dropping it into the murky water below. Shoving it back into his pocket, he turned to his good friend and stable master, Garrett. “You really shouldn’t sneak up on me like that.”
“Sorry.” Garrett grinned, looking anything but sorry.
Blowing out a misty sigh into the cold morning air, Daniel turned back to the rail, his thoughts still on her. How could he have been so easily duped? He studied the bustling dock below, trying to focus his mind on the activity instead of the beautiful face painted on the miniature. Workers scrambled about, yelling and whistling signals to one other as they loaded barrels and crates onto the row of ships readying to set sail. Dozens of masts jutted up to the peach and gold sky, dipping and swaying on the fish and salt breeze.
For the third time in just as many minutes, a herring gull cried out above his head. Daniel glared up at the pesky bird, hoping the pale gray creature would swoop down within reach. If only he could grab onto one of those pink legs and tie shut that wailing yellow bill. Why couldn’t the thing go annoy one of the dock workers?
Garrett moved to his side. “I was serious.”
“About what?”
“The miniature.”
His stomach clenched. The damn portrait burned a hole in his pocket. He knew every detail, from her wavy dark hair to her creamy smooth skin. And those sparkling amethyst eyes. Such beauty. He hung his head and studied a jagged scar on the wooden rail. “I still cannot understand it, Garrett.” The obnoxious bird cackled, as though it mocked him. Where the deuce was his pistol?
“I know.” Garrett clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps it happened for the best.”
The best? Daniel faced his friend, stunned. “What do you mean?”
“If Lady Megan had married you while holding great affection for another, think of the misery that would have caused you both.”
His hand tightened on the rough wood, thoughts of his father crashing over him. Yes, he probably should pitch the damn mini
ature overboard. And all thoughts of Megan with it. But he just couldn’t do it. He took a deep breath, praying to God he wasn’t becoming weak. Like his father.
“Worry not, my friend,” Garrett said, reaching down for a small piece of crate that had broken away while being loaded earlier, “you will find another.” He launched it into the air but the noisy gull merely floated out of the way, undisturbed by the attack, and the wooden projectile splashed into the filmy water below.
“I will not find another like Lady Megan.” The bird squawked, sounding a lot like it agreed with Daniel, then dashed off toward the front of the ship. Good. Go make someone else’s life miserable.
“Perhaps you will find someone even better.”
He shook his head. “Thanks to my sister’s come out, I have met every acceptable young lady thrice over. Megan was the perfect choice. Daughter of the powerful Duke of Kenbrook. Young. Beautiful. And Gran was pleased.” He gave his friend a meaningful look. “You know how difficult that is.”
“Sometimes, my friend, the perfect choice isn’t always the best.”
As Daniel considered those words, a movement caught his attention. From over Garrett’s shoulder, he noticed the portly captain rushing toward an elderly woman and her young companion as they boarded the ship. Something in the man’s determined expression made him think they were not welcome. He inched closer to the gangway to find out what was going on. The captain’s wide birth blocked his view, but he could hear their conversation.
“Our passage was paid ten days ago, Captain,” the elder lady clipped. “How is it you no longer have our cabins available?”
“Come now, madam, be reasonable,” the captain attempted to sooth her. “I have three cabins. You booked two, leaving one empty. But someone, of great importance I should add, requested them all. What was I to do?”
Daniel frowned. He never would have taken the cabins had he known two had already been reserved. Actually, he hadn’t wanted to sail at all. But his sister had learned of the recent robberies and murders along the English-Scottish border and made him promise to take a ship.
“You, sir, should have done the honorable thing,” the younger woman spoke out from behind the elder.
The captain stepped forward. The back of his thick neck, below the fringe of white hair, had turned scarlet. “Now see here. I was about to reimburse you—”
“Excuse me, captain,” Daniel interrupted, guilt gnawing at his middle.
The captain turned, his bushy white brows raised above watery blue eyes, and his crimson jowls shook with irritation.
“I believe I have a solution.” He added a bit of authority to his tone. “Garrett and I will share one cabin. The ladies are welcome to have the two cabins they expected. Had I known of this from the onset, I would have arranged it thus.”
The captain scowled. “I shall reimburse you at once, Your—”
He waved the words away. “That is unnecessary, Captain. Use the excess funds to comfort the ladies. Extra blankets, fine meals, whatever they need.”
Growing an even deeper shade of red, the man snapped his mouth shut and bowed. He turned to a nearby crewman. “See to the luggage,” he ordered. One could hardly deny a duke.
With a nod, Daniel acknowledged the two women. The younger moved out from behind her companion. For a moment, he studied her, amazed the melodic voice he’d heard earlier didn’t match the picture in his mind. Standing almost eye-level with him, she wore round brass-framed spectacles, a tattered gray bonnet, and the ugliest faded black cloak he had ever seen. She looked like an orange vendor straight from the stews of London. He very nearly shook his head in sympathy. No, this lady hadn’t at all been what he’d imagined.
The wind changed direction, and an unexpected hint of roses tickled his nose. A most welcome substitute for the putrid odors of dead fish and rotted garbage littering the dock. And it came from her. How odd to look a street urchin but smell like a princess.
She regarded him with a speculative gaze, guarded but unwavering. Another oddity since the lower classes never stared so boldly at one of his station. “Thank you for your kindness, sir. We must be on our way to the cabins before the captain changes his mind.”
She took a step forward, but her foot caught on a misaligned board. Instincts took over and he lunged forward to steady her. And instead of landing face first on the deck, she landed snug against his chest. Her arms had come around him and he glanced down to inquire of her wellbeing. But no words came when he found her pressed right up against him with her cloak parted open. He could see the fullness of her breasts as they rose and fell when she drew in air. Could feel their lushness right through his clothes. Unable to help himself, he pictured her without anything on.
Clearing his throat, Daniel helped her straighten, then shuffled back a step. Blood pounded in his temples as he attempted to erase the image of her bare skin from his mind. He watched her align her spectacles and caught a glimpse of creamy flesh within the shadows of her cloak. The absurd thought of pulling her back to him came to mind. And that unexpected reaction did not please him at all.
When she finished arranging things to rights and glanced up, he gave her a kind smile, trying like hell not to lower his gaze. “Are you injured?”
No answer, but a hint of pink splashed over her cheeks as though she had glimpsed the naughty images that wouldn’t leave his mind.
He shifted from foot to foot and repeated his question. “Are you injured, Miss…?” He raised his brows, hoping she would supply her name, wondering why the deuce he even wanted to know.
She blinked once, twice, then gave her head a little shake. “Um, no, I am not injured, my lord.”
Ignoring the improper form of address, Daniel opened his mouth to request her name again when the elderly lady—whom he’d completely forgotten about—spoke as she marched by. “Watch for the luggage, Silver. I shall like another word with that daft captain.”
Silver? Picturing her naked in the moonlight, glowing beams of silver caressing—he halted that thought before it bloomed in his mind. What had gotten into him?
“Yes, Aunt Prudence,” Silver answered then glanced back at him with those big eyes enlarged by her spectacles. “Thank you for your assistance, my lord. Both times.”
He widened his smile, hoping it looked innocent enough. “You are quite welcome. Allow me to introduce myself,” he paused to give a small bow, wondering how she’d react to his name. “I am Daniel Claiborne.”
When several seconds ticked by and no recognition came, he grew perplexed. Everyone knew the name came with the title Duke of Huntington. Instead, she bobbed what he thought was meant as a curtsy. “Sylvia MacLaren.”
“I thought your name was Silver,” he teased, trying to keep all thoughts of moonlight and naked skin at bay. But his grin faded when her stoic expression remained unchanged. God’s truth, women were never that impassive toward him. Quite the opposite, actually. He hated all the simpering and tittering from the ladies, but wouldn’t mind one small twinkle of admiration in those unimpressed blue eyes.
“Silver is the strange name of my youth, my lord.” Her words sounded as serious as her expression.
Before he could come up with some witty reply, the crewmen appeared with two valises and a small chest, and Silver gave a curt nod, then turned to follow them.
Daniel watched her march away, back straight and stiff. She actually seemed annoyed with him. He narrowed his eyes. Had something happened to him? Some kind of curse put on him? Were women to find him repulsive of a sudden?
His hand went to the miniature in his pocket, his finger grazing Lady Megan’s lovely features. He very nearly pulled it out to throw at the pesky gull who’d returned to torture him. But something stayed his hand. Perhaps one day he’d be able to return the small portrait with words of congratulations on her marriage.
“I’ve moved our belongings into one room.”
Daniel turned, surprised to realize his friend had left at all. “Good.”
<
br /> “And I’ve secured,” Garrett lowered his voice, “the chest.”
The captain roared out orders and the crew scrambled to their tasks. Within minutes, the huge white sails were raised, snapping to attention in the wind. The ship gave a good shudder and Daniel held onto the rail as they inched away from the dock to glide slowly down the Thames.
Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the chimney smoke rise up over London like a heavy black cloud. If the disappointment he felt inside could be seen, it would look much like that, he thought. His hand came to rest over his pocket, and he sighed. Then he turned toward the fresher air. Perhaps being gone a while would do him some good. Clear his head a bit. Make him forget all about Lady Megan.
The gull squawked out a greeting as it flew alongside the ship. Daniel frowned at the irritating creature, wondering how long it intended to follow them. Hopefully not out to the open sea.
“The fowler, Mr. Davies,” the captain called, pointing to the chattering bird hovering several feet from the ship’s rail.
“Aye, Captain.” Mr. Davies ran up to Daniel’s side and leveled a flintlock musket right at the seagull.
He reached out and lowered the musket before the man could fire it. “Leave him,” he ordered loud enough so the captain could hear the command.
The bird gave a long, shrill screech, then turned around and flew back toward the dock. He watched the gull until it disappeared among the swaying masts of the anchored ships behind them. He had no idea why he saved the pesky thing, nor why it would comfort him as it did. Perhaps the bird reminded him of the pet goose he’d had as a young boy. The one that followed him everywhere and would hiss at anyone who came too close. The one that had accidentally been killed for Michaelmas dinner.
Not wanting to experience such heartache again, he had released into the woods his other beloved pets, a field mouse and two tortoises. Dashing away his tears, he had marched back to the mansion and made a vow to never love again.
Duchess Beware (Secrets & Scandals Book 2) Page 1