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

by Samantha Holt

  “Because Anton has set him upon me,” Cassie replied swiftly. “He believes I shall get myself into trouble whilst he is honeymooning.”

  Her sister lifted her gaze to the ceiling. “Of course he did not trust us to look after you.”

  “He can be a little old-fashioned.”

  “It comes from being the heir to a dukedom.” Chastity dropped onto the seat in front of the piano and pressed one note. “I suspect he feels it is his responsibility—nay duty—to become old and fusty in time to take over the title.” She pressed another couple of twinkling notes then paused. “Consider yourself lucky I had such a terrible marriage, or he would have swayed you into a similar arrangement before now.”

  Cassie shuddered. Should she ever marry it would not be to a man like Chastity’s late-husband. It would be to a man like—

  “Luke.”

  Cassie blinked. “Pardon?”

  “You should go and rescue him. Aunt Sarah has him cornered.”

  “Oh yes.” She set the book in her hands aside and rose then pressed hands down her skirts and pushed a curl from her face. A pin fell from her hair. “Oh pooh.”

  She caught Chastity’s eye as she bent to retrieve it and ignored it. The last thing she needed was her sister believing her to be somehow enamored with him and wanted to look her best.

  Why should she care what Luke thought of her appearance? He might be helping her but he was an inconvenience of the greatest sort, not just because he had appointed himself her guardian but because, well, he kept distracting her. It had been a miracle she had spotted that pickpocket last week and she hadn’t even noticed the man following her. Years spent honing her observational skills and she’d nearly flubbed it.

  She stilled at the doorway between the blue room and the hallway to listen to Aunt Sarah regaling Luke with a story of when she bathed in the Serpentine nude. Cassie closed her eyes briefly. How realistic Aunt Sarah’s stories were was hard to tell but she could not fathom how Aunt Sarah had managed to do such a thing without causing utter scandal.

  “Of course it was so cold that I think I nearly lost my—”

  Cassie swept in. “Thank you for receiving Viscount Whitehurst, Aunt Sarah!” Luke swung her a grateful look. “If you do not mind, I must steal him away.”

  She took Luke’s arm and tugged him toward the parlor room, far away from earshot of Chastity or Aunt Sarah and she knew her father and Demeter were in the library at present. She suspected Eleanor to be tinkering in the boot room but who knew with Eleanor? She could disappear for hours to toy with her inventions.

  “Oh naturally.” Aunt Sarah winked and Cassie had to concentrate on breathing deeply lest her cheeks redden.

  She promptly dropped his arm when they entered the room where he set his hat down on the occasional table near a large fern. Though his hair was slightly ruffled from the abrupt removal of his hat, the rest of him remained polished to perfection—his gold waistcoat peeking out from under his dark jacket, his neckcloth perfectly tied.

  She could never be certain if he did it on purpose, but he always managed to have something slightly wrong with him. Today it was his hair, the other day it had been the pin of his neckcloth, sitting slightly off-center.

  She only noticed these things because she had taught herself to be observant of course, but it always gave her something to hunt out. What would the little rebellion be today, she never failed to ask herself, and were they deliberate? Given his rakish attitude, she suspected they were on purpose.

  Not that Anton would be happy about her hearing of such matters but such gossip was unavoidable and an eligible, attractive man like Luke was bound to set tongues wagging.

  “Do you have news for me?” She remained standing, hands clasped together.

  He shook his head with a bold smile. “Not a thing.”

  “Well you do not have to look so pleased about it.” She scowled. “You found nothing or there was nothing to report?”

  “Both I suppose.”

  “Luke.” She glared at him.

  “The business does not exist. Wherever you heard the name, it was either incorrect or someone was toying with you.”

  She shook her head. “No, that cannot be. It was in the—” She paused and huffed out a breath. “It must exist.”

  He lifted a shoulder, drawing attention to the sheer size of him. Men’s physiques rarely held her attention unless there was a reason for her to take note but something about having been wrapped in those arms meant she kept paying special attention to the way his clothes formed around his muscular form.

  Her stomach gave a little flip. Most likely because she should not even be thinking of Luke this way. He had made it clear he thought of her as nothing more than Anton’s sister or a good family friend. She should consider him the same. Which she had. Until about two weeks ago, she supposed.

  But Jane needed her attention. Luke’s shoulders most certainly did not. There were plenty of women more than willing to pay him interest. He did not need one extra.

  She paced to the window and peered out at the great oak trees that partially shielded the house from the busy London road. “It must exist,” she muttered.

  “There is no record of such a company being formed,” Luke explained. “And no one has heard of it.”

  She twisted to view him over her shoulder. “Could it just be very new?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  She frowned at her reflection in the window. The will had supposedly been written years ago. “What reason could a company have for not registering?”

  Luke came to her side. “A good many and none of them good.”

  “That is what I feared,” she murmured.

  “Cassie?”

  She forced a smile. “Thank you for helping me, Luke. You have my gratitude.”

  “Am I to understand your search is over?”

  “Of course.”

  Luke’s lips quirked when she affected the most innocent of expressions. Damn the man. Did he have to see through her so easily?

  ***

  ANTON MIGHT HAVE saved his rear in Oxford, but they most certainly had to be even by now.

  Luke tweaked the brim of his hat and paused to glance back at the house. He half-expected Cassie to dash out the door as soon as he left but the woman was too clever for that. He pressed fingers to his temple and shook his head. His options were few. Stay with her and try to persuade her to give up the truth as to why she wished to search for this company or do something else. Was he really going to spend the day following her to try to find out what the devil she was up to?

  Probably.

  He did not believe her protests of innocence one jot, no matter how wide her eyes had been and how much he’d wanted to believe her. It would have been easier. He had things to do damn it—people to meet, duties to attend to, bills to look over. But if he was ever going to prove himself better than his past, he could not break his promise to Anton.

  And, in truth, he could not let Cassie get herself into any more trouble. If the day at the docks had taught him anything, it was how boldly she was willing to throw herself into any situation. Hell, if that pickpocket had been any older and less starved, she would not have been able to wrangle him so easily.

  He allowed himself a brief smile as he rounded the corner of the house. Her skills of observation were to be admired, though.

  Leaning against the stone support at the end of the gates, he folded his arms. Next time he would have one of his men follow her. If she spotted him pursuing her, she’d be furious but he’d take her wrath if he could find out what she was doing and why she wanted to find out about this shipping company so badly.

  When he peered up and down the road for sign of her carriage coming around front, he furrowed his brow and pushed away from the stone when he spotted a man lingering on the opposite side of the road.

  That limp... He’d seen that limp at the docks. He moved swiftly after the man. The same floppy hat and the same gait. But why
was he here—outside Cassie’s house?

  Luke had been certain they were being watched by him but marked him as a man hoping to take some coin from them—most likely by nefarious means. They were some way from the docks, so he had little reason to be here, and even less reason to be spying on Cassie’s house.

  He stalked down the road, pushing past pedestrians while trying to keep the hat in sight. He had speed on the man, but the traffic and people impeded Luke and by the time he crossed the road and received an earful from a speeding driver, he’d lost him.

  Blast.

  He looked around but caught no sign of the hat or the limp. Was he being paranoid? Was all this trying his darndest to look after Cassie driving him insane? It was certainly a possibility. There was scarcely a moment when he did not think about hauling her into his arms and taking that offered kiss. She’d also left him sleep-deprived and distracted. No wonder he could not think straight.

  Sensation yanked at his gut and he cursed under his breath. He never doubted his gut and there was something strange about the chap, no matter how crazy Cassie had driven him. He swiveled onto his heel and headed back to her father’s house.

  Aunt Sarah met him in the hallway again, the cat clutched in her arms as she beamed at Luke. “How good of you to grace us with your presence not once but twice! I do not doubt Cassie will be pleased—”

  “Luke?” Cassie paused in the hallway, halfway through tugging on her gloves. She tilted her head. “What is it?”

  He glanced at Aunt Sarah. “Might I have a private word?”

  Aunt Sarah cupped the cat close. “Say no more. We shall be gone in a flash. Come, Simon, Luke desires a private word with Cassie.”

  “Aunt Sarah,” Cassie protested. She blew out a breath as the door slammed shut behind her aunt. “She will make up a story about this, I guarantee it.”

  “Will you tell me why you are seeking out the details of this business?” he demanded.

  “I thought you trusted I had good reason.”

  “I did until I saw someone watching the house.”

  Her brows knitted. “Watching the house?”

  He nodded. “The same man I saw at the docks.”

  “Man you saw at the docks?” she repeated.

  “And here I thought you prided yourself on your observational skills.”

  “I have excellent observational skills, as you saw for yourself.”

  “Well, I spied this man watching us last week and I saw him again as I left the house. I gave chase—”

  “Luke, that could have been dangerous.”

  He fixed her with a look. “I am entirely capable of looking after myself. But if you believe this chap to be dangerous, then I must conclude this business of yours is not so innocent after all.”

  Which was putting it mildly, considering he was certain she had been the one to break into the solicitors.

  “I am doing nothing wrong and I am certain it was a case of mistaken identity. After all, the poor man is allowed to come to this part of London, you know.”

  He ground his teeth together. The woman was going to get herself into trouble—he could feel it. “Cassie, I demand you tell me what you are up to.”

  “Demand?” Her eyes flared. “Luke, no matter what Anton has said to you, you are not my keeper, and you have no right to demand anything of me.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “I am not answerable to you.” Her chest rose and fell, hard and fast, as though fighting to keep her temper at bay.

  She’d never looked so glorious in all her life.

  Luke met her furious gaze, jaw still clenched. They were but a foot apart and it would be easy enough to grab her arms and try to kiss her into submission.

  Somewhere in the house, a sorrowful piano tune began playing. He jerked his head up and took a step back. “If anything happens to you, Anton shall never forgive me.” He turned on his heel then paused briefly. “But worse, I shall never forgive myself.” He thrust a finger in her direction. “Do not get yourself into trouble, Little Cassie Fallon. For my sake.”

  Chapter Ten

  “Have you heard?”

  Cassie peered at Mrs. Sutton’s reddened cheeks and assumed the news must be exciting indeed. There was hardly a day when the baron’s wife did not partake in gossip and only the most salacious could drive her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed.

  The woman had dashed across Regent’s park toward them with all the speed of a special messenger, her short legs carrying her at an astonishing pace across the grass toward where they promenaded. Cassie enjoyed fine weather and a stroll about the park usually, but she found it hard to take pleasure in or care about silly gossip when she had the matter of her investigation to ponder.

  Her sisters had insisted the fresh air would help her think but thus far, she was still stumped as to what to do about this supposed shipping company. How did a company exist and yet not exist and why was a house given to them? Was she simply too ignorant to the world of men? Perhaps she should have spent less time practicing observations and writing in code and more time following her brother’s business dealings. This whole mess had her vexed indeed.

  It did not help that Luke had her muddled too. Why would someone be watching her? And why oh why did she rather like it when he acted all high and mighty, declaring he would never forgive himself if something happened to her.

  She wrinkled her nose and turned her attention back to Mrs. Sutton as Chastity engaged the flustered woman. Luke acted on Anton’s behalf—she would do well to remember that.

  Mrs. Sutton gulped down a large breath. “I heard this just this very moment, and as I know you are all close friends with dear Jane, I simply knew you would want to be informed immediately.”

  Cassie straightened. “Miss Jane Parsons?”

  “The very same.” Mrs. Sutton drew a handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed her upper lip. “I heard it from Lady Sharp herself.”

  “What news would you have us hear, Mrs. Sutton?” Demeter prompted, barely disguising her desire to continue their walk unheeded.

  Her sister always insisted they march rather than promenade on their walks, determined that they should take their exercise seriously. While Cassie enjoyed seeing other people and quite understood the benefits of the fresh air, she did not understand why her sister insisted on making it practically a religious experience, ensuring they walked daily.

  “She is to marry,” Mrs. Sutton blurted.

  Cassie scowled. How could this be? She only saw Jane the other day and she spoke of no prospects. “But she is still in mourning!”

  Mrs. Sutton nodded, pressing a hand to her still heaving bosom. “Indeed!”

  “To whom is she to be married?” Cassie demanded.

  “Mr. Fawcett of Leicester Square.” Mrs. Sutton eyed the four of them, apparently satisfied with Cassie’s gasped response.

  “But she does not even like him.” A chill spread through Cassie, making her shudder.

  Mr. Fawcett was a vile creature of a man who was known for wandering hands. There was scarcely a woman in London who had not been victim of his unappealing attentions. It had been known he was looking for a wife—goodness he had even asked for her own hand last Season—but why on earth would Jane accept him?

  “I do not think it a love match.” Mrs. Sutton leaned in. “Her situation is precarious, depending on the charity of Mr. Harding. I hear tell he is keen to rid himself of the burden of her care and offered an enticing dowry.”

  “Poor Jane,” Demeter murmured.

  Poor Jane, indeed. How could her cousin do such a thing to a grieving woman? The man had no sense of dignity or compassion.

  “I think she will be married off by the end of the Season,” Mrs. Sutton said confidently.

  “This is terrible,” said Cassie. She looked to Eleanor. “I must go,” she mouthed to her sister.

  Eleanor inclined her head and tugged Cassie closer, out of Mrs. Sutton’s earshot. “Do you need help?”

  Cassie shook her head.
“I am not helpless.”

  A small smile formed on her sister’s generous lips. “I never said you were. No one thinks that of you, you know.”

  She scanned Eleanor’s expression and gave a begrudging smile. However, her hard work would be for naught if Jane ended up married off and miserable. She had to find out what happened to her brother and put a stop to this wedding. If she could prove Theodore was not dead, her cousin would have to forfeit his inheritance and thus his hold over Jane. And her sisters would continue to respect her as something other than their annoying little sister.

  “What do you intend to do?”

  Cassie had been pondering her next moves carefully. She could not afford for Luke to catch wind that she was still investigating this company, nor did she wish to act with the haste that had meant she had been caught not once but twice by him. However, now was not the time to dwell. The solicitors must know something about the will.

  “I must speak with someone.”

  Eleanor narrowed her gaze at her. “You do not need to keep secrets from your sisters, you know.”

  “I know, I know.” Cassie unlatched her arm from Eleanor’s. “And I shall tell you all when I return.” She hurried toward the huge wrought iron gates at the end of the path.

  “Cassie, do you not want the carriage?” Chastity called after her.

  She waved a hand. She did not need any of her father’s servants watching what she did next.

  ***

  NATURALLY, HE NOTICED when Cassie dashed off from the park.

  Luke smiled grimly to himself. Because what else should he be doing with his time but obsessing over her every move? This was getting beyond ridiculous, and when Anton returned home, he was tempted to order him never to bestow such a favor on him ever again.

  Unfortunately, he had the horrible inkling that even if his duty to watch over her ended, he’d still be watching for the blasted woman.

  He fought it for the briefest moment before giving in and offering his excuses to the company of two attractive widows and his friends and followed after her. She moved at a pace, apparently agitated by whatever it was Mrs. Sutton had to say. He’d heard the woman squawk to just about anyone who would listen but had yet to hear the gossip himself.