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Secrets of a Duke's Daughter (The Duchess's Investigative Society Book 1)

Page 3

by Samantha Holt


  Cassie eyed the hat before glancing up at him. “Lies.”

  “Ah, Little Cassie Fallon, only you could speak to me so.”

  “I am not little anymore.”

  “I noticed.”

  The response dallied in the air, like the thick fog that rolled in off the Thames on occasion. It made her lungs feel clogged, though she could not be certain why. Did it really matter that he no longer saw her as a little girl?

  “I do not see why I cannot accompany you. I am a close family friend, not to mention I’ve been assigned to you by your brother.”

  Fighting the urge to scream aloud in frustration, she pressed her teeth together. She did not have time for this no matter how amusing he thought himself to be. “I’m going to be late, Luke.”

  “To where?”

  “I...”

  She peered around the carriage as though the answer might materialize up from the floor. Lies were not easy for her. Many thought her far too outspoken as it was and neither her mother nor her father had been the sort to silence her.

  That was most likely the reason Anton had told Luke to watch over her—her brother still thought of her as some mischievous girl, likely to get herself into trouble. Lordy, she was so tired of people thinking such things of her. Was she some child in leading strings liable to sneak into the kitchen and dip her hands in the trifle still?

  Hardly.

  She straightened and laced her fingers together. “I’m having coffee with a friend. We shall gossip and talk of handsome men, and those that annoy us,” she said with a pointed look at him. “Idle chatter that will not interest you one jot.”

  ***

  EVEN IF LUKE did not know better, he would have figured out the false intention behind Cassie’s words. The bright spots of pink on her cheeks, the way she nibbled on that full bottom lip plus how she laced her bare fingers so tightly her knuckles whitened gave her away. If Cassie wanted to lie to him, she needed to become much more practiced.

  Such a shame that she looked mightily pretty whilst doing it. The rosy cheeks gave her the look of a country lass having taken a brisk walk through the hills and the delicate pout of her lips was red and glossy from being gnawed on. His fingers twitched with the desire to press a thumb to said lips and see if her mouth parted in response.

  He took a long inhale and forced himself to settle deeper into his languid posture. Clearly, his instincts were not wrong. Cassie had no reason to hide her comings and goings unless she intended to do something she should not.

  Of course, she could be meeting with a man.

  He straightened. Not on his bloody watch. “You hate coffee.”

  “Blast,” she muttered and scowled. “Well, the slave trade might be abolished but the people who harvest it are still not free.”

  “I know.” He had heard this lecture so many times from her and her sister that even he had ceased having it in his house. “So where are you going?”

  “I am seeing a friend,” she admitted.

  “A...male friend?”

  “Good Lord, no!” She pressed a hand to her chest.

  He eyed the slim digits, adorned with one ring. A ring clustered with so many jewels that it likely cost more than some of the farms he owned. Cassie might be loyal and giving but he should never ever forget what she was—a duke’s daughter and destined for greater things than the life of a viscountess.

  Not that he intended to marry her. Certainly not. He enjoyed his bachelorhood. Life as a relatively new viscount did not need the added complications of a wife just yet.

  “Is there a reason you cannot tell me her name?”

  She exhaled audibly, her chest sinking a little. “Miss Jane Parsons.”

  “Mr. Harding’s cousin?”

  “What of it?”

  “You mean to tell me it was a mere coincidence that you were snooping around Mr. Harding’s private chambers only yesterday and now you are to visit with his cousin?”

  “I was not snooping,” she snapped.

  “Oh yes, you needed air.” He pressed his lips together to suppress a grin. She really made the worst liar in the world.

  “Is that so wrong?”

  “Cassie, you might as well confess all right now. You are a terrible liar.”

  “I have nothing to confess. Miss Parsons is suffering a bereavement. I go to offer comfort.”

  “Well, we had better be on our way then.” He tapped the roof of the carriage and it rolled onward.

  Cassie grabbed the edge of the window, her mouth formed into a circle of surprise. Finally, her mouth settled into its usual cupid’s bow shape and she jabbed a finger toward him. “If you are so desperate to accompany me, you are staying in the carriage. Miss Parsons does not need you prying into her affairs.”

  He debated arguing but the mere fact she had not attempted to fling him out on his arse meant he offered his hands up in surrender. “As you bid, my lady.” He rested his elbows on his knees and eyed her. “By affairs you mean...?”

  “That it has nothing to do with you! A girl needs her secrets.”

  “Anton will not be pleased you are keeping secrets.”

  “Anton is not here, and even if he were, he would not be as tiresome as you are being.” She shook her head. “I know you mean well, Luke, but I am not going to get into trouble as my brother fears and it is rather tedious to be treated as though I am still a little girl.”

  Oh he well knew that. If she were, he would not have to dwell on how womanly she appeared in her powder blue pelisse. More slender than technically fashionable, her figure still teased, the coat hugging under her breasts and offering a hint of curves.

  Luke prided himself on being an equal opportunities sort of a man, finding himself attracted to a variety of traits but there was something about the tall length of Cassie that made him want to claw at his gut to rid himself of the itch there.

  If he had a penny for every time he’d thought of her naked over the last year or so he’d be, well, still too poor to afford Cassie’s upkeep but it would certainly buy a decent meal. His desire to see her long legs, bare and spread out on his sheets, or those delicate breasts free of their confines bordered on the obscene.

  He clenched his jaw and watched their progression through the busy London streets. Drivers cursed one another and pedestrians darted between the vehicles, slowing the journey to an agonizing pace. He needed it over as soon as possible so he could breathe Cassie-free air and rid himself of this madness.

  Because, damn it, she was Anton’s little sister.

  “I will never understand why you do Anton’s bidding. Surely you have better things to do with your time?”

  He allowed a tight smile. Cassie had little idea quite how wild he had been back in his college days and how close he had come to ruining his life forever. He considered that perhaps he should tell her and frighten her away for good, but he couldn’t bring himself to see the disappointment in her gaze.

  “I gave Anton my word to protect you, Little Cassie, and I am a man of my word.”

  She made a dismissive noise and lifted her gaze to the roof of the closed carriage. “You men and your word. I would rather see action than words.”

  Luke’s throat tightened and he swallowed hard, but the knot did not budge. She wanted action. He wanted to give it to her. By some miracle, he managed to remain on his seat and resist the desire to leap across the gap between them and pin her to her chair, ensuring they went absolutely nowhere while he showed her exactly what sort of action he was capable of.

  “I am here, in your carriage, escorting you to your friend’s house.” He forced a relaxed smile that felt borderline fraudulent. “That is action, Cassie.”

  The redness in Cassie’s cheeks deepened. “Must you be so...relentless.”

  “I must.”

  “Well, I do not care what anyone has told you, it is a frustrating trait.”

  Luke smirked to himself. Frustrated by him she might be, but he doubted Cassie felt even half of the frus
tration he suffered by simply being in her company.

  Today would be a long day.

  Chapter Four

  The townhouse in which Jane resided was modest but well-kept and furnished in the latest fashions. Her late-brother kept the house as it was closer to parliament but how long Jane would be able to remain in it, Cassie did not know. Being at the mercy of her cousin’s charity left her with few options, and their parents were long passed with no aunts or uncles remaining to provide her with shelter.

  Of course, Cassie would do whatever she could for Jane if needs be, but it would be far better to find out what had truly happened to Theodore and the house she was promised. If they could figure that out, Jane might be able to have the future she truly desired without the need for aid.

  Wan and utterly unlike her usual bright self, Jane rose from a chair by the window as the housekeeper ushered Cassie in. She snapped shut the book in her hands and cast it onto the nearby lamp table. “I do not know why I am trying,” she said. “I have not read a word.”

  “I know.” Cassie motioned for her to sit, fearing the woman might collapse if she did not.

  She’d known Jane years before their debut together and she had never seen her so gray and lifeless. Her grey mourning dress did nothing to compliment her auburn hair or her usually sparkling blue eyes. There had seldom been a day during the previous Seasons where they did not laugh and dance and revel in every ball and dinner party to which they were invited. To see her so deep in mourning made Cassie’s stomach twist painfully.

  Cassie seated herself on the high back sofa opposite and waited until the housekeeper had brought them tea before drawing out a notepad and pencil.

  “Did you find anything?” Jane asked. “I wish I could have attended. It seems in such poor taste my cousin is throwing balls—practically celebrating Teddy’s death.”

  Cassie wrinkled her nose. As Theodore’s sister, she would have to remain in mourning for some time. The cousin, however, had a little more freedom, most especially being a man and inheriting a sizeable fortune.

  She pursed her lips. Relating the tale of nearly being caught would not help matters so she settled for the story she had told her sisters. “I was unable to gain access to the will but—” she held up a hand before Jane could respond “—do not fear. I have a plan.”

  Jane curled her hands around an empty teacup. “I am not sure I like you doing this, Cassie. It seems far too close to scandal for my liking.”

  “What shall we do? Simply let an injustice be done? You say the body was not that of Theodore and I believe you.”

  “I am certain it is not.” She straightened and set the cup down on the table. “His signet ring was never worn on that finger and he would simply not be where his body was discovered.” She sighed. “They say he must have been gambling but his days of placing wagers were in the past. He has been a fine and decent brother these past years.”

  “He has,” Cassie agreed.

  “Of course, no one believes me. No one but you that is.”

  “And my sisters.”

  Jane shook her head slowly. “It is strange indeed to have all these duke’s daughters investigating such matters. I fear I put you all in danger. This whole affair seems nefarious indeed.”

  “My sisters have unraveled many a mystery, but you need not fear.” Cassie straightened her shoulders. “I shall get to the heart of this matter swiftly, I promise.”

  “I know you have been keen to join their ranks, Cassie, but you should not take such risks. What if you had been caught? What if some man had come upon you and you had been spotted together?”

  Glancing at her hands, Cassie forced her expression to remain neutral. If she had been caught with Luke, they might have been able to brush it off as an innocent meeting between two old friends, though it was unlikely. He could escort her about in public and even be alone in a carriage together but to have stolen off in a room together would have been ruination for certain.

  But it did not matter. She had not been caught by anyone other than Luke, and once she had assured him there was nothing untoward occurring, she could get on with discovering what had happened to Jane’s brother.

  “I am taking all precautions, I promise.” She waited for Jane to pour the tea with a shaky hand and she dropped two sugars and a dash of milk into hers. Cassie stirred it slowly while she mulled her scrawled notes. “I cannot help but feel your house is key to this.”

  “It is not my house anymore,” Jane muttered.

  “Theodore promised it to you, and he was not a man to make promises lightly. Something has gone awry, and if your cousin will not tell you what, we must find out ourselves.”

  “If only I could gain access to his study, but if I go alone, I can hardly slip away.”

  Cassie shook her head. “You are in no state to do anything. You must let me do this for you.”

  Jane nodded slowly and took a tentative sip of tea. “I do not know what else to do.”

  “I have this in hand,” Cassie said with more confidence than she felt.

  The will would unravel this, she was certain. Jane and her brother always adored going to their house in Scotland and Theodore vowed it would be part of her dowry with enough funds to keep her comfortable whether she married or not. Somehow, that had never transpired, and Mr. Harding refused to discuss such matters with a woman.

  Cassie tried to keep Jane distracted with gossip from the ball while they drank their tea but nothing could erase the cloud of mourning hanging over her friend. Theodore was not much older than Anton, and because it was just the two of them, they were especially close. Jane had no one and Cassie could not imagine such a feeling. What would she do without her family?

  “I will keep you informed,” she vowed, giving Jane’s hand a squeeze. “That body was not Theodore’s. If you believe that then I do too. Take comfort in that.”

  “I shall try.”

  As she stepped down the stairs toward the waiting carriage and Luke, who annoyingly had not given up and returned home, she ran into Mr. Harding at the bottom of the steps.

  He took a deep bow. “Lady Cassandra, are you providing charity to my poor cousin?”

  “Just company, Mr. Harding. Jane has no need of charity.”

  “Yes, well, that is not entirely true, but I shall bestow upon her what I can as her only living relative.” Mr. Harding peered down at her over a long nose. Long and skinny with a strange energy to him that made his fingers judder against his thighs, Mr. Harding always paid her the respect due to her rank, but she felt a lingering dislike for her behind it.

  There were some people—maybe many—who did not find her determination to discover enjoyment in life appealing or ladylike, but she seldom cared for others’ opinions. If she could take at least one benefit of being a duke’s daughter, it was that she had more freedom than many of her sex to behave how she wished.

  Within reason, of course.

  However, whilst some muttered things behind her back, Mr. Harding scarcely disguised his annoyance at her, especially now. She always spotted the way he never looked her directly in the eyes or how his chin lifted in dismissal.

  “I do hope my cousin was not plaguing you with her concerns, my lady. She is deep in mourning and does not have all her senses.”

  “I found Jane to be entirely in control of her senses.”

  His upper lip curled. “You would be wise not to believe this nonsense about her dear departed brother, my lady. It does Miss Parsons no good. She must accept that he is gone.”

  “I think it hard to accept such things when the matter is not clear at all.”

  “What is not clear? His body was found, he is dead.” He inhaled audibly, his square shoulders rising. “I do not mean to be so crass, my lady, but a grieving woman cannot have control of herself. She should not be thinking on such grim matters.”

  “I think a grieving woman can have as much control as a grieving man.”

  He laughed. “Men do not grieve like w
omen.”

  Cassie declined to inform him that she had seen her father grieve her mother and it was most assuredly much like Jane’s grief. She’d found comfort in it at the time, knowing that she was not alone. It hurt all the more to realize Jane truly had no one else but her.

  She glanced at the carriage to spy Luke watching the interaction with a tense expression. If she wasn’t careful, he was going to join her on the doorstep and find out precisely what was occurring.

  “I shall take my leave, Mr. Harding. I have many other things of which to attend.”

  “No doubt.” His thin smile told her he believed her to only have trivial, feminine matters to attend to.

  Which was fine with her. Now she just needed to convince Luke of that fact.

  ***

  LUKE WATCHED NOEL stagger up the steps to the house with amusement.

  His brother twisted on the middle step and pressed a finger to his lips. “Shhhhhhh, Mother will be sleeping,” he slurred.

  “No doubt.” He hastened up the stone steps to aid his brother up the final few with an arm about his waist.

  Noel began to hum a tune and sway from side to side, making the journey of a few steps much harder than it needed to be.

  Bartlett, the butler, scarcely blinked when he opened the door, no doubt used to such a sight from Luke’s younger years. Though he suspected Noel would not awaken with a sore head alone after a night of revelry at Vauxhall. However, he was not in nearly such a sorry state as Noel. Was this how he used to be when he indulged too heavily?

  Unfortunately, likely so. He still recalled the morning he’d been woken by a gentle shake from his mother only to discover he’d fallen asleep at the piano entirely naked. No mother needed to see that and no grown son wished for such an occurrence, despite his mother’s protests that she had seen him naked plenty of times during childhood.

  He worried for Noel, truly, but so far his brother kept his indulgences few and far between and never managed to take it to the great lengths Luke did.

  “I’m hungry,” Noel muttered as he flung his hat at Bartlett.

 

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