The Last Duke (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book)

by Deborah Wilson

  He looked down. “Perhaps, it is best we put our little arrangement on hold. It… would be best if you were not seen with me.”

  “No.” She grabbed his arm. Her stomach twisted into knots. “I’ll not let you go through this alone.”

  A sad smile touched his lips. “Aside from Benedict, I’ve more or less been doing this alone for seven years.”

  “Not anymore,” she said. “My brothers will help as well.”

  He shook his head. “No, your brothers would prefer that you have nothing to do with me.”

  “It doesn’t matter. They’ll help, because I will ask it of them.”

  He covered her hand with his own, both of them now resting on his arm. “Valiant, no.”

  She blinked. “No?”

  He chuckled and extracted her hand from him. “I know, you’re likely unfamiliar with the word. Here, let me elaborate. I don’t want help from either you or your brothers. I won’t allow it.”

  He wouldn’t allow it?

  She balled her hands at her side. “It makes no difference. Lore will hunt for Denhallow without you. You might as well work together.”

  They both turn as footsteps rushed toward him.

  It was her brothers, and their gazes were grim.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 2

  Anthony moved away from Valiant before Asher could give the instruction. This was the very sort of situation he’d tried to avoid. He wanted Valiant, yet he knew he’d have to prove himself to the Curbain brothers if he ever thought to be close to her again.

  He wanted to tell Valiant that he would not leave her side for long, yet he couldn’t guarantee that. He didn’t know how long it would take to find Denhallow or the others. Another seven years? By then, he was certain she’d have remarried, and he’d be forced to move on with his life.

  They stood together, yet it felt like a gorge had formed between them.

  The duke and his brothers stopped a foot away. Their eyes were on Anthony.

  Though he kept his expression neutral, his body stiffened.

  He’d missed Valiant terribly.

  When next would he see her smile or hold her?

  Their kiss seemed so long ago now. He’d wasted their time. He should have snuck off with her moments ago and kissed her, putting everything he had into it. He’d have pinned her body to a tree somewhere behind the hedges and shrubs.

  Now, he’d likely never do it again.

  The Duke of Ayers turned to his sister before returning his cold look to Anthony. “I suppose she’s told you what has developed?”

  Anthony nodded. “I am aware of what has happened. Denhallow is missing.”

  Valiant moved closer to him, but he didn’t dare look at her.

  “You know more about what’s going on than anyone else,” Asher said, surprising him. “Therefore, we will let you lead this search. No more thief-takers. We’re doing this ourselves and you will help us.” It was not a request.

  Anthony couldn’t recall the last time a man had told him to do anything. Ayers was indeed older, but they were both dukes.

  Yet considering what was at stake—mainly any connection to Valiant—he let it go.

  Lore crossed his arms. “Have you any idea where we should start?” He looked worried.

  “Lord Cartelle has a map. We should likely start where the others have been seen.” Hero looked at Anthony. “What do you think?”

  Asher nodded. “We should depart for your townhouse. I’d like to see this room and also speak to any of the thief-takers you’ve hired who are still in town.”

  It seemed not only was he being forced to work with the Curbain brothers, but they also planned to invade his home without permission.

  He nodded and turned to Valiant.

  She grinned. “You’ll find him. I know you will.”

  “Valiant,” Asher called. “You’ll return to the house with Everly and the other women.”

  “As you wish, noble brother.” Valiant was still grinning as she departed.

  Hero watched her go. “I’ve never seen her so compliant. Should we worry?”

  Anthony was thinking the same but thought Valiant’s submissiveness had sprouted from her wish for Anthony and her brothers to get along.

  “We can worry about Valiant another time.” Lore looked at Anthony. “After you.”

  * * *

  Using Lord Biddington’s men, Anthony sent out messages to his theft takers so that they would meet him at his townhouse. He’d just finished showing the men the map in his office when the theft takers came in.

  And to his surprise, one of them had information for them.

  He’d sent them out days ago along with the money Mr. Thomas had given—for bribes—with the Hero’s suggested instruction to be more aggressive.

  Mr. Charles had clearly taken his job more seriously and had the proof to show for it. His eyes had been darkened by a fist and his lip had a split. He’d been in a fight. There were also other marks and redness on his face.

  Mr. Charles spoke. “I spoke to the innkeeper at the Merrill Inn in Stevenage. His inn is less distinguished than the others on the road. He’s also known for housing ladies of the night.”

  “I know the place,” Lore said.

  Everyone looked at him.

  Lore shrugged. “I wasn’t always married and even then, I never actually went in. I simply know of the place, is all.”

  “So do I,” Asher said. “It’s on the old North Road to York. True gentlemen avoid it, preferring to take rooms at the other inns nearby.”

  Mr. Charles nodded. “You won’t find too many gentlemen there, which is why I looked there. If the man was truly hiding, he’d avoid places that the ton frequented.”

  “Good thinking,” Anthony said. “What did you discover?”

  “The innkeeper told me that Mr. Goody eats there. Frequently.”

  “If that is so, then why have you returned without him?” Anthony asked.

  Mr. Charles looked down and shuffled his feet. “Highwaymen took the funds you gave me. I barely had enough to return to London, much less stay close to the inn.”

  Anthony might not have believed the man’s story if not for the bruises on his face.

  “If your information turns out to be of any use, be assured that you’ll be rewarded handsomely,” Asher told the man.

  Mr. Charles bowed. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  The men had him write out everything that took place so that they could look over it later.

  Lore said, “Denhallow might have taken the North Road to Cambridge.”

  “Mr. Goody, however, wouldn’t have taken it to get to Luton,” Anthony said.

  “Which means the man likely went to Luton strictly for the hat,” Asher said.

  “What’s he doing in Stevenage?” Hero asked.

  “I don’t know,” Anthony said. “But I’ll find out.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Hero said.

  Anthony shook his head. “No, you men have families. You should remain. It could be dangerous.”

  Asher narrowed his eyes. “You’re right. However, make sure you don’t go alone and be careful.”

  Anthony nodded and managed to hide how startled he was that Asher had cared enough to say anything about his wellbeing.

  He decided to gain as much information as he could about the area that day and then depart the next morning.

  He escorted the Curbain brothers to the door.

  Lore, who was the last to leave, turned around and said, “I know you don’t care much for Denhallow. Not many people do, but he’s my friend. Please, do all you can to find him.”

  “Let us hope that finding Mr. Goody will give us some insight on the others, but I must confess I’m not hopeful. Yet, I will try.”

  Lore grinned. “Shall you be doing this favor for me or for Valiant?”

  This time, he forgot to hide his astonishment. Or his rage. Anthony gripped the doorpost. His knuckles went white. “Val… Lady Beaumont?
What does she have to do with Denhallow?” His stomach burned with the very thought of them together.

  Lore lifted a brow. “I only meant that by clearing your name, my brothers and I would be more inclined to allow your courtship.”

  “Your sister and I are not courting.”

  “Yet,” Lore added.

  Anthony gave no quick response, because if he were being truthful, he wasn’t entirely sure that Lore’s assumption was not correct.

  Valiant’s trust in him today had him… dare he think it, considering a bid for her hand?

  As though he were worthy of the thought.

  A smile crept on Lore’s face as his silence. “Find Denhallow. We’ll speak later.”

  Anthony allowed his butler to close the door behind the men and then went to his office to pour over the information Mr. Charles had provided while his servants packed his trunks. He didn’t know how long he’d be gone, but he was prepared to remain for the rest of the Season if necessary.

  He was reading some of the old reports from Stevenage when his office door opened.

  By then, the sun had departed the sky. The lamps at the door were his only illumination, which cast the other side of the room in shadows.

  “A lady is here to see you,” his butler said.

  Anthony made out pale skirts as a woman came into the room and his heart raced.

  Valiant? Had she come to see him off?

  A hundred different sensual plans began to form in his mind as he brightened the lamp’s glow.

  But then he blinked and noticed it was not Valiant.

  Anthony slowly came to his feet and placed the reports on his desk.

  And for the first time in years, he was at a loss for words.

  Miss Milton’s cheeks were inflamed, as well they should be. The woman was in a bachelor’s home at night. Why the thought angered him when Valiant’s presence never had, he didn’t know. She licked her lips. “I know you’re not expecting me.”

  He came around the desk but stopped some feet from her. “I would ask where your chaperone or grandmother is, but I believe that would be pointless, since neither would bring you here.” He wondered how she’d known where he lived.

  He wanted to send her away. Somehow, her presence felt wrong.

  That thought gave him pause. Why was he so disappointed in seeing Miss Milton?

  Miss Milton looked around the room and her eyes widened at the maps and the sketches of the missing men. She moved over to the largest map, studied it silently, and then looked at him. “You’re truly looking for the missing lords?”

  Her emphasis on ‘truly’ told him that she’d not believed his story before now.

  Anthony, quite used to accusations, made his face and tone neutral. “What are you doing here?” He didn’t believe her presence to be of a sexual nature. Seduction was all but absent from her gaze.

  “There is a rout happening across the street,” she told him. “Someone from the party mentioned you lived here. So, I slipped away.”

  “Is that something you’ve done in the past?”

  She smiled. “Never.”

  He remained still. “Why have you come?”

  Lottie Milton turned her dark eyes back to the map and then she turned to him. And in a blink, her entire demeanor changed. Something glowed in her eyes. Her shoulders relaxed. She started toward him, and Anthony could not help but notice the sensuality that seemed to pour from her every step.

  She was a very beautiful woman. That was undeniable. And at the moment, she held the air of a huntress. There was promise in her gaze, and it wasn’t entirely wanton. She was a mystery and he knew he’d be unsettled until he solved it.

  Lottie Milton didn’t stop until her chest nearly brushed his arms. “Your Grace,” she purred. “I know the world does not accept you for who you are, but you can tell me the truth.”

  The truth? What did she want from him?

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  2 3

  Something had told Anthony to dismiss Lottie Milton the moment she entered his office, but he’d been very curious about her presence.

  Now, he was simply annoyed. “Miss Milton, I’m not responsible for those missing men.”

  She smiled and lowered her gaze. “Of course not.” Her tone was mocking. Her lashes fluttered and then returned to him. “I heard about Denhallow while at the party. I also heard about your altercation with the man a few weeks ago, but you left before I could say a word to you.”

  He leaned away from her—something he’d never done with a woman in his home—and crossed his arms. “I believe we said everything that needed to be said to one another earlier that day.”

  She touched his arms with light pressure. “I know you stated that you were not sure if you wished to marry this year, and I recall that I was resigned to let you go, but I’ve since changed my mind.”

  He lifted a brow. “Denhallow goes missing and suddenly you wish to be my duchess again?”

  Her hold suddenly tightened. “I wish to stand by you, Your Grace.” She looked him over, taking in his chest and arms. The look was not sexual but calculating in another way. Then she looked at him again. “You can protect me.”

  Protect her?

  His mind became alert. “Is someone hurting you?”

  “I noticed trunks in the foyer. Are you leaving?” she asked. The sudden change of topic stunned him.

  “Yes.” But he decided not to tell her why he was leaving or where he was going. She didn’t need to know, and it was unlikely she’d believe him if he told her he was looking for Denhallow anyway.

  She was a strange woman. She’d seemed ready to let him go that morning, but now…

  She stroked his arm and then let him go. She took a step back. “I pray your journey is safe and that you come back unchanged.”

  Unchanged?

  It was the oddest farewell he’d ever received, but nonetheless, he said, “Enjoy your evening, Miss Milton.” He was glad to see her depart.

  When she was finally gone, Anthony took a deep breath and went over the encounter in his mind again.

  Had she come to him for help? Clearly, she thought him dangerous. She seemed to almost prefer the savage to the gentleman. Yet unlike the other women, who’d only been looking to bed him, Miss Milton was now intent on becoming the Duchess of Cartelle.

  He wasn’t sure what to think about that.

  Clearly, he needed to convince her that he was innocent. He didn’t know if he could.

  But what did it matter what she thought? Would he really marry her?

  She was beautiful and though an innocent, she didn’t act like a girl fresh from the schoolroom.

  But she was no Valiant.

  He put his thoughts of both women aside and focused on what he had to do next. Finding Mr. Goody and bringing him back to London was his first priority. Everything else would have to wait.

  * * *

  “Tis truly a shame, it is,” the woman across from Valiant said as she stirred her tea with unladylike vigor. “If the magazine had released their little article about Lord Cartelle years ago, my dear mama might have allowed me to court the duke.” She was Lady Ambrose, yet before her marriage, she’d been Lady Payton.

  She’d been the woman Valiant had thought to marry Cartelle to when she’d made her bet with him on that night so long ago.

  She’d allowed Everly to persuade her into coming to the tea shop that afternoon as a way to distract herself until Anthony’s return.

  Lady Ambrose had been there with her friend Mrs. Owens, and being acquainted with Everly, had come over to say hello.

  And then somehow, without Valiant being able to trace its origin, the conversation had turned to Anthony.

  They’d only been on the topic for a matter of minutes before Valiant was ready to go.

  The tea shop was quite full that morning. Every table was filled with ladies and gentlemen while the rain fell silently outside, a common occurrence since one could not be seen at the park with the
weather as it was.

  Soft noise bustled around her. There was the sound of servants’ footsteps as they moved around the room and conversation. Her table was not the only one where Anthony’s name was being whispered.

  Speculations had grown about Denhallow and though Valiant was annoyed by the name, she dearly hoped Anthony found him soon.

  It had been a fortnight since the duke left and the only word she’d received about him had come from Asher, Hero, or Lore since, apparently, Cartelle had decided to write her brothers but not her.

  Valiant told herself that he didn’t write because it was would have been improper to do so, but then she had to ask herself exactly what was proper about her situation with the duke?

  None of it was.

  They were tied together by a bet that never should have happened.

  Yet, since then, new bonds had formed. There was friendship and something deeper.

  That something deeper made her glad he’d not written. Giving Anthony anymore of her heart would only lead her to giving him her body and that would never do.

  “It’s not that I am unhappy in my marriage, mind you,” Lady Payton was saying. “I’m only stating what to be clearly a fact.” She smiled. “While the entirety of London thought him violent, I always knew the truth. I mean, look at him. No one that beautiful could be a murderer, could they?”

  Everly turned to Valiant and gave her a sympathetic look.

  Lady Payton’s friend, Mrs. Owen, chimed in, “Well, he did kill his father.”

  That seemed to give Lady Ambrose some pause, but then the woman shook her head. “He had no real choice, did he? After all, his father had committed an unspeakable act. Bedding his fiancée the night before their wedding?”

  Valiant swallowed as her heart felt Anthony’s pain from long ago. How betrayed he must have felt by his father’s careless act. She knew nothing about the details of the event except those parts that everyone had heard during his trial.

  But what had truly happened that night?”

  He’s most handsome,” Lady Ambrose said with a great sigh. “And those eyes. Like gazing at the moon, are they not?” Strangely, she looked at Valiant after saying the words.