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

by Samantha Holt

  Eleanor shrugged. “It’s a logical plan. No one pays attention to servants and you have done your research.”

  Cassie tried not to beam at what could be considered high praise from her sister. Eleanor’s mind worked at about ten times the pace of everyone else’s so if she deemed it a good plan, it must be.

  “Precisely.”

  Chastity rose from Cassie’s bed, moving with that sensuous languidness that seemed to shadow her wherever she went. Cassie did not think she even did it intentionally, but she could not help envy it. After all, if she acted and spoke like her sister, maybe Luke would have been more interested in kissing her.

  No! What a foolish thought. She shook it away. She did not want Luke kissing her or any other man for that matter. A moment of silliness could have ruined everything. If she wanted to follow in her mother’s footsteps and help others, she could not be married for goodness sakes. All the duties of being a wife would dominate her time and she could not think of anything more dull.

  What luck it was that her father had not insisted she marry one of the first proposals that came along after her debut. Her mother might have wished her married before joining her investigative society but she had no desire to share her time with a husband.

  Her sister took her face in her hands. “I should not be letting you go. You are too young.”

  “I’m a grown woman,” Cassie protested and resisted rolling her eyes.

  “You were always Mother’s baby,” Chastity murmured and sighed.

  Yes, Cassie knew that far too well. Even people of the ton could scarcely believe she was out in Society. Even when she spoke complete sense, she noticed people giving her that tilted head and softened expression that one would give a young child. Goodness, how amazing—the little one is so clever!

  Yuck.

  Chastity released her face. “Just remember what I taught you. Poke the eyes, then hit him in the nose with a knee.”

  Cassie caught Demeter shudder out of the corner of her eye. “I p-pray you do not have to use such a skill, Little One.”

  “Well, I have only had to use it once or twice...” Chastity grinned.

  Cassie gasped. “You never told me that!”

  “I do not tell you everything.”

  “You should. We are sisters,” Cassie protested. And now she found herself desperate to know the story behind her sister attacking not one but two men. “Anyway, I think it unlikely I shall have to use it.”

  “You are assuming, of course, Cassie will be attacked by a man,” Eleanor pointed out. “What if it’s a woman?”

  “It will not be because, dear Eleanor,” Chastity said, “men are brutes.”

  Eleanor sniffed. “I have certainly known a vile woman or two in my time.”

  Cassie shared a glance with Demeter. Being the eldest sister, Chastity had witnessed less of the vileness to which Eleanor had been exposed, despite her having been claimed as the natural daughter of the duke. It had come from both sexes unfortunately. Chastity’s viewpoint was most likely skewed by her late-husband’s behavior, who had been far from gentlemanly.

  “It matters not.” Cassie waved a hand. “I have planned this most carefully. I know exactly where to enter the building so it will just be a case of going through their records. And I most certainly shall not be caught—by man or woman.”

  “That’s the spirit.” Chastity cupped Cassie’s face again and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “But if anyone does anything to you, be assured no one shall be able to knee them in the groin again.”

  Cassie frowned and glanced at Eleanor.

  “Because she shall remove their...parts,” her sister whispered.

  “Ah.” Cassie removed her sister’s hands, straightened her apron and retrieved her pouch of spare lockpicks to secrete upon her person. “Never fear. Nothing will go wrong this time.”

  She spoke with slightly more confidence than she felt but she had done her planning properly this time. No barreling in or getting caught by the wrong person and no viscount Whitehurst to ruin her plans. He had stayed away for days, no doubt terrified she might beg him for a kiss again. Which she most certainly would not. Never.

  Never, ever, ever.

  From now on, she would focus on this investigation and helping Jane and nothing else.

  ***

  “YOU HAVE YOUR father’s instinct for investments.” Mr. Cunningham scarcely glanced up from the ledger in front of him.

  Little beads of sweat gilded the steward’s top lip, no doubt conjured in anticipation of his increased wage this year given the excellent returns. Luke didn’t count him as a greedy man, but when Luke imagined Mr. Cunningham at home, he pictured him hugging bags of money when he slept. What Cunningham did not know about rents, lands and accounts were not worth mentioning. Money was his life.

  “Much good it did him,” muttered Luke as he rose from the chair opposite. The sparsely furnished office did not reflect the coin Mr. Cunningham earned from Luke and Mr. Cunningham ignored suggestions that he furnish it more comfortably. Maybe he slept with money bags but that was about it—the man lived in a simple fashion despite his life revolving around the comings and goings of wealth.

  “Ah.” Mr. Cunningham rose from his chair. “Forgive me. That is to say...” The man grimaced. Deep-set eyes sat behind wire-framed glasses, filled with regret. He patted a hand across his sandy hair then down his waistcoat—his palms no doubt as clammy as his upper lip. “Your father was no fool with money despite everything...” Mr. Cunningham’s cheeks reddened.

  “My father lived rather too much like Icarus as we both know.”

  And got burned for it.

  “You could afford to take a few extra risks, my lord. The estate is in fine shape these days. You could see a return—”

  Luke held up a hand. If he never had to hear the word return again, he would be happy. Ambition had left his father dissatisfied with life and Luke refused to follow in his footsteps.

  “We shall keep things as they are. We have enough to look after the family and the estate’s dependents. We do not need more.”

  Mr. Cunningham tugged a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his upper lip. “Of course, my lord. But if you do change your mind, I have an excellent opportunity—”

  “Good day, Mr. Cunningham.” Luke left the office just as another line of sweat blossomed on the man’s lip.

  Excellent opportunity or not, he had no interest in hearing it. All it took is one wrong move and it would all collapse—his siblings’ income, the livelihood of hundreds, the houses that had been handed down generation to generation. For the most part, he did not dwell on the enormity of it sitting on his shoulders but meetings with Mr. Cunningham always reminded him of his father and his tragic end.

  They had enough. His life was enough. He would never make the mistake of wanting more.

  He stilled at the top step of the building and eyed the flow of people strolling along the fashionable Piccadilly. His carriage had vanished from its spot in front of the building. He’d have to walk in search of it.

  A boy thrust newspapers in the direction of every passer-by and Luke narrowed his gaze at the sketch of a building on the back.

  “I’ll take one.” He handed the boy a coin and flipped over the newspaper. He scanned the picture then the words beneath it.

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered.

  He’d avoided Cassie for over a week since the carriage incident. Since he had come far, far too close to breaking his one rule. If he kissed Cassie, he would certainly be guilty of wanting more. But, damn, that had been about the hardest thing he’d ever done. Seeing her crestfallen expression as he declined her still acted like a punch to the gut.

  Of course, she had likely forgotten it by now. Especially considering she had been busy doing other things, it seemed. The article reported on a break in at a solicitors. More specifically, the solicitors near where he had rescued Cassie from. He didn’t believe in coincidences.

  So much for his
hope he could keep his distance and she might behave after her contrite behavior.

  Easing out a breath, he continued down the street with haste until he found his carriage on the corner of a quieter road. “Sorry, my lord,” his driver said. “Traffic was too busy, and we had to move on.”

  Luke waved away the apology. “To Pall Mall.”

  The journey took longer than he’d hoped, and he likely should have walked it. The busy London streets offered no concession to a man in a hurry. By the time he reached the duke’s house, he’d conjured a hundred reasons why he should not go to Cassie. But one reason he should lingered—he’d promised Anton—and he never went back on his promises.

  Guildbury Hall occupied a large corner of Pall Mall. Wrought iron gates kept the house set back from the road with elegant gardens offering peaceful respite from the clogged roads. His driver took the carriage around the rear of the house while he marched swiftly down the long path to the sandy-colored building. The housekeeper ushered him in swiftly after he offered his card but his surprise at being allowed entry by Cassie was quickly diminished when he found Aunt Sarah in the drawing room. Alone.

  “Cassie and her sisters are gone for tea,” Aunt Sarah said. “I’m not certain when they shall return.”

  “Any idea where?”

  Aunt Sarah’s bright blue eyes twinkled. She dropped onto the nearest sofa and tugged her loyal gray cat onto her lap. The animal’s mildly annoyed expression quickly diminished when she started to fuss the creature. “Hunting her down, are we?”

  “I merely need a word, Aunt Sarah.”

  “But words are so dull. A girl like Cassie would much prefer action.”

  Luke was not prone to blushing like a blasted woman, but he swore his cheeks heated. He cleared his throat. “Cassie would do with partaking in less action, I suspect, if she is to stay out of trouble.”

  “I have little idea to what you are referring.” She grinned and Luke narrowed his gaze at her. It seemed even Aunt Sarah knew Cassie had broken into that building.

  But why?

  “Perhaps you can tell her I called for her and I shall be seeking a word with her soon.”

  “Just one word?” Aunt Sarah cupped the cat’s face and gave it a nuzzle. “Simon and I would rather it were several words. Like will you marry me for example?”

  Luke nearly choked on his next breath. He’d been friends with the family long enough to be used to Aunt Sarah’s eccentricities but where she had gained that idea from he did not know.

  “I have little intention of saying such words, Aunt Sarah, as you most likely well know. Your niece is a duke’s daughter—”

  “Yes, yes.” She exhaled dramatically. “And if Anton has his way, she shall be married to that dull Duke of Marsbeck.”

  An ice-cold shiver ran down his spine. “The Duke of Marsbeck has offered for her hand?”

  “There is some murmur of negotiations starting. Poor Cassie has no idea. But she is young and beautiful with a hefty dowry. I have no doubt the duke will take her. Anton has to get at least one of his sisters married off and she is most eligible.” She cocked her head. “And troublesome, apparently.”

  Jaw tense, he forced himself to unfurl a fist when he saw Cassie’s aunt take notice. He conjured a smile. “And I have no doubt she shall be happy indeed. The life of a duchess is no less than she deserves.”

  Aunt Sarah released an inelegant snort. “She deserves much, much more, as we both know. I have hopes something much, much better will come along.” She winked.

  What on earth Aunt Sarah considered better than the top of the pile, he did not know, but he certainly wasn’t going to ask. It was hard enough witnessing men fawning over her at every ball, despite it being some time since she was out in society. There was nary a Season when someone did not offer for her hand and he didn’t like to admit it, but he always found himself somewhat more relaxed when he heard Cassie had declined said offer.

  None of this news changed anything, though. Eventually Cassie would marry and now it seemed she would be engaged to a duke no less. Another excellent reason to avoid the woman.

  Unfortunately, he had the blasted promise to Anton to fulfill first. It was simple really. He’d find out what she’d been up to, give her a scolding worthy of a big brother then do his best to avoid her for the rest of the Season.

  Simple indeed.

  Chapter Seven

  Cassie tugged open her reticule and breathed a sigh of relief as the housekeeper escorted her into the drawing room. Where the slip of paper might have vanished to from her person, she did not know, but with the morning she’d suffered, Cassie was determined to anticipate everything. First she’d spilled tea on her gown and then she’d smeared newspaper print on her forehead and not realized it until the groom looked at her oddly when disembarking from the carriage. The man promised she removed it all but who could trust a man’s eye really?

  Jane appeared more fragile than ever. Her mourning clothes brought out the sickly pallor of her skin. A pang speared through Cassie’s chest. Though Anton drove her utterly mad with his insistence she needed watching over like some child still in ribbons, she could scarcely imagine how she might feel should she lose him in such a manner.

  Or appear to lose him at all. Now she had seen the will, she believed Jane’s version of events even more. Theodore was not dead or at the very least, that body had not been his.

  “How are you doing?” Cassie gestured for Jane to remain where she was, nestled into an armchair by the fire.

  Heat suffused the room, making Cassie’s skin prick under her garments. By the looks of Jane, she needed the heat, despite the weather having improved and become warm once again.

  She sat opposite her and leaned over to squeeze her friend’s hand. Jane offered a tight smile. “I will be better if you have news for me.”

  Cassie nodded, tugged out the will from her reticule and unfolded it before handing it over. “We know what happened to your house.”

  Frowning, Jane snatched spectacles from the tiny table nearby and peered through them, not bothering to unfold the wire arms. Jane gasped. “But why would he leave the house to some...company?”

  “Have you ever heard of the company?”

  She shook her head and peered more closely at the will. “Never, but that is not surprising.” Jane shrugged. “I hardly had a hand in Teddy’s business dealings.” She set the glasses aside. “I still cannot fathom him doing such a thing. He promised me that house and you know Teddy—his honor meant everything.”

  “I know,” Cassie said softly.

  If there were a more honor-driven man, she did not know of them. He’d been caught dueling no less than three times. Whilst Cassie did not approve of the barbaric practice, she understood Theodore had not partaken in them lightly.

  “Now I am left relying on the charity of my cousin.” Jane made a face. “What charity he will bestow upon me anyway. He does not disguise that he finds me a burden.”

  “I will find out what happened to your house, Jane. I will not rest until it is restored to you.” Cassie winced.

  Eleanor would tell her never to promise things she could not guarantee but how else was she to comfort her friend?

  Cassie nodded toward the will. “Is that Teddy’s signature?”

  Jane lifted her spectacles again and peered closely. “It looks correct, to be certain.”

  “And you are certain you have never heard of this shipping company?”

  “I wish I had paid closer attention now. Maybe I would have, had I asked for greater involvement.”

  Cassie smiled softly. “I very much doubt Teddy would have let you be more involved.”

  Jane returned her smile. “That is true. Teddy certainly would not have welcomed his sister interfering in his business.”

  “I intend to find this Barnes Shipping Company. They must have offices somewhere here. Maybe someone there can tell me why they have been willed the house.”

  “You are so brave, Cassie.
”

  She had not felt brave at all when she had been curled up in Luke’s arms and begging him to kiss her. But she would not mention that. “Someone must seek justice.”

  “You are the only one who is interested. Everyone else believes it a tragic accident and is happy to leave it at that.”

  “Which is precisely why my mother started this investigative society—to listen to those voices who would not be believed.”

  “Well, I am grateful for your help, Cassie, but do be careful. I would so hate to be responsible for any sort of scandal or ruin.”

  “Believe me, Jane, I am taking utmost caution.” She rose from the chair. “I am going to head to the docks now. It seems likely a shipping company shall have an office there.”

  Jane scowled. “Should you not take Chastity with you at the very least?”

  Cassie shook her head vigorously. Her sisters did not even know of her intended destination and she preferred it that way. If she was going to prove herself, she needed to do this without help.

  “I will have protection.” Though she was certain the groom and driver would not be impressed about taking her to the docks but she had no choice. As Eleanor would say, it was the logical decision.

  Jane lifted her head to peer out of the window. “Oh, is Viscount Whitehurst accompanying you? I am assured you shall be quite safe with him.”

  “Pardon? I—” Cassie followed the direction of her gaze and shook her head. What was he doing here? “I had better make haste,” Cassie said. “Would not want to keep him waiting,” she added brightly.

  She waited until the door closed behind her before tugging on Luke’s arm and dragging him away from the window of the house. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  His amused smile did nothing to disperse the heat she felt flowing from her toes to her cheeks. This would not do at all. The blasted man needed to leave her alone once and for all.

  ***

  RAGE SPARKED IN Cassie’s eyes and fool that he was, Luke realized he’d missed looking into those eyes, rage-filled or not. The pink spots on her cheeks added a certain entertainment too. There was no denying Cassie was quite spectacular when annoyed.