Noble Scoundrel (Peril & Persuasion Book 1)

by Amy Sandas

  “You’re an amazing young man, Frederick Blackwell. And I’ve no doubt you’ll be one of the best dukes the line has ever seen.”

  His mouth tipped in a half smile. “If that proves to be true, I’d owe it to you, Kit. You’ve guided and supported me all my life. I hope you know how grateful I am for you.”

  “No more grateful than I am for you,” she replied as her eyes stung. “You gave me purpose, Frederick.”

  He glanced down. “I know.” When he looked up again, an uncomfortable feeling of inevitability rushed through her. “In relation to that, there’s something I’ve been wanting to say.”

  “Of course,” she replied with a smile, despite the tightening in her chest, “you know you can say anything to me.”

  “It’s just that...” His gaze slid back to the table, then bounced down to his feet, before rising up again to meet Katherine’s gaze. “I’m growing older, and with Father gone, I need to step up as head of the family. I don’t wish to leave everything in the hands of our estate manager as Father preferred to do. It’s time I became familiar with the accounts and all our holdings and properties. I’ve got ideas I’d like to implement on the estate in Lincolnshire and with some of our tenants in Lincolnshire, and I’d like to establish a real home here in London.”

  His eyes flickered as he added, “Once all the trouble is resolved, of course.”

  As her brother spoke, Katherine forced herself to conceal most of what she was feeling and embrace the new maturity her brother displayed. Though it arrived so much sooner than she’d anticipated, she’d known this day was coming and had been prepared for it mentally. Even so, the wealth of pride and fear and love she experienced as she heard the confidence and purpose in Frederick’s voice was nearly more than she could handle. He was still so young, but age had never really been a factor when Frederick set his mind to accomplishing something.

  His last comment, however, was like a bucket of cold water being dumped atop a growing flame. Her brother deserved a future that was as broad and bright and limitless as he envisioned. Not one where he was kept hidden to protect himself from some unclarified danger.

  She had to find their enemy and end the threat. So her brother could become all he was meant to be.

  “I will take care of it. I promise.”

  “I know, Kit. But that’s the other point I’d like to make. Father’s death, moving to London, this frustrating mystery—they’ve all shown me a truth I’ve been ignoring for too long.”

  Katherine frowned. “What’s that?”

  His brown eyes suddenly seemed a bit too knowing as he turned to face her, putting his hands on her shoulders as she’d done to him so many times. “I love you, Kit, and each year I appreciate more and more the things you’ve done for me. But it’s well past time for you to live life for yourself.”

  She was tempted to shrug off his hold, but forced herself to meet his intent gaze. “What are you talking about? I live—”

  He cut her off with a shake of his head. “No, you don’t. If I hadn’t been born and Mother hadn’t died, what do you suppose your life would be like right now?”

  “That’s a ridiculous question. Losing Mother was horrible, but I do have you and I’m exceedingly grateful for it.”

  “But if you hadn’t had to focus all your attention on me,” he pressed, “you’d have had a London Season. You’d have been courted and likely married by now.”

  She laughed. “Where on earth is this coming from? You know I’ve no interest in the social whirl.”

  “But you’d like children someday. A home of your own.”

  “Perhaps. Someday,” she replied carefully.

  “Don’t think I’m not aware of how you’ve put your life on hold for me. In fact, it’s never been more apparent than when you and Mr. Hale are in a room together.”

  Katherine’s eyes widened at his wild conclusion. “What could he possibly have to do with all this?”

  Frederick gave a dramatic roll of his eyes. “I’m not stupid, Kit. You obviously like him. A lot.”

  “I—”

  “And it’s clear you’re doing nothing about it because of me.” His brows lowered in a fierce scowl. “I don’t wish to be an obstacle to your happiness.”

  “No. Stop it, Frederick. Just stop. You’re not an obstacle to anything and I’m not unhappy.”

  “But you do want Mr. Hale,” he prompted.

  Though her heart clenched at his observation, she had never lied to her brother and she couldn’t start now. So, she evaded instead.

  “That’s not the point.” She took his hands in hers. “The truth is, you’re absolutely right. It’s time for you to experience the world without me constantly hovering at your side. I’ve always known I wouldn’t be allowed to mother you forever, and it’s probably well past time for you to become more independent.” She smiled. “I have complete faith in you and the duke you’ll become. And I can’t wait to see the new Redbury Hall.”

  Her brother’s eyes narrowed. “He wants you, too, you know.”

  Fail.

  Katherine released his hands and turned away. “Frederick...”

  “What? I’m not a child. I can see how you two are with each other. I know what it means.”

  “It doesn’t mean anything,” she argued.

  Her brother just shook his head in disappointment. “If you insist,” he muttered before turning his attention back to the blueprints.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Later in the evening, a message arrived from Morley. As soon as Mason saw that it contained information on the list of names Lady Katherine had provided, he went in search of the elusive woman. He didn’t bother analyzing the rush of anticipation he felt at the thought of seeing her again, telling himself it didn’t bear that much attention.

  He checked for her first in the study, where she tended to spend most of her time. The room was empty, however. As were the library and the parlor and the drawing room. He finally stopped a passing maid, who directed him to a sitting room on the second floor.

  The door to the room had been left open, and he found the lady kneeling on the floor beside an open trunk. Her hair had been styled in a lovely mass atop her head, and the robin’s-egg blue of her silk dinner gown fell in soft folds over the curve of her buttocks as she leaned forward to dig through the old trunk.

  Desire shot through him, shockingly intense.

  He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to happen when he saw her again after their time in the ballroom. As soon as he’d made it to the privacy of his bedroom, he’d done what was necessary to ease the need raging through his body. But it’d been a pale substitute and had done very little to assuage his driving hunger for the woman herself.

  If anything, his lust had been strengthened by the experience now that he knew exactly how she looked, moved, moaned, and gasped while in the throes.

  Something alerted her to his presence—perhaps she sensed his rising hunger—and she twisted around to pin him with a startled look. Her eyes widened briefly at the sight of him before her gaze took a thorough wander down the length of his body, which was quickly hardening in all the right places.

  He saw the shift in her expression, the softening and the flush of pink in her cheeks, before she returned to her chore, giving him her back again. He couldn’t say he was upset by her silent dismissal. It was a stunning backside, after all. And he suspected the irritation in her expression was due more to an apparent lack of success in finding whatever she was looking for than in his interruption.

  At least, he hoped it was.

  “What is it, Mr. Hale?” she asked. “I’m a bit occupied at the moment.”

  He ignored her curt tone as he crossed the room to crouch beside her and peer into the trunk containing a variety of random possessions, including a collection of slim clothbound books.

  “I’m just doing as you’ve instructed, duchess. Keeping you advised of any progress.”

  With a heavy sigh, she set the book she�
�d been examining into the trunk and sat back on her heels. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

  The lady apologized. This was new. Mason held back his humor. “I’ve gotten a report on your list of names.”

  Her eyes widened with curiosity. “Was anything pertinent uncovered?”

  Mason shrugged. “You’re more equipped to answer that.” He handed her the letter and watched as she read through Morley’s succinct notations with furrowed brows. He’d already gone through it himself, but none of the idle nobles or fellow researchers of Charles Blackwell’s recent acquaintance appeared to have any history of criminal behavior or apparent motive for the kidnapping of a young duke.

  Even though he hadn’t seen anything strikingly suspect in the findings, he was hopeful she might.

  When she tensed and parted her lips on a swift breath, Mason leaned closer. He couldn’t stop himself from taking in a deep breath of her scent. The floral, feminine essence stirred the desire in his blood, sparking heat along his nerves. “What is it?”

  She rested an elegant finger alongside one of the names. “Lord Emsworth. I didn’t know of him personally, but I recall he sent his condolences upon Father’s death. It says here that he funds a society dedicated to the exploration of unmapped regions in the Americas.”

  “So it does. And that’s pertinent because...?”

  Her dark eyes met his and he had to grind his back teeth to keep from reacting to the sensual impact of her full focus. Now that he’d looked into those deep brown eyes while the woman trembled in the midst of her climax, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever be able to meet her gaze without getting hard.

  “In the months leading up to his death, my father was studying a plant that had only recently been discovered. The natives of the region used the herb in certain spiritual ceremonies, and my father had been tasked with determining whether it might be developed into an agent of sedation for use during medical procedures and such. That plant came from South America. Lord Emsworth could be the unnamed patron who’d requested the study.”

  “Certainly possible, but why does that matter?”

  “My father’s experiments proved the plant’s elements were unstable and dosing would be highly sensitive and potentially dangerous. His last entry indicated an intention to discontinue his work on the project. My father was dedicated to herbalism and pharmaceutical study. His passion was in exploring ways the elements of nature could improve our modern lives. That he would willfully choose to destroy his own work was unprecedented.”

  Mason frowned as a tingle of apprehension crossed his nape. “There’s more, isn’t there?”

  She glanced down at the books in the trunk. When she spoke, it was with a slight reluctance, as though she were still sorting her thoughts on the topic. “It’s nothing he stated outright, but I keep sensing something hinted at between the lines. I think my father was worried that whoever requested the study had dishonorable intentions. He didn’t survive the fire that consumed his lab. Presumably, neither did the journals containing the formulas and methods he’d used in his experiments.” Her expression was stern as she returned her gaze to his. “My father was meticulous in employing safety measures for everything he did. His reflections indicate that he was fully aware of the volatile nature of what he was working with.”

  “What are you thinking, dove?”

  She turned to face him more squarely. “If a person lacking in honor and integrity wanted to have a drug designed for nefarious purposes, would they be the type of person who allowed anyone, even a duke, to stand in their way? What if my father’s work wasn’t destroyed in the fire but was actually stolen? What if the fire wasn’t an accident at all?”

  Mason’s blood chilled. “You think he was murdered?”

  Her gaze was steady as she replied, “I think it’s possible that someone who ordered the kidnapping of a young boy and the drowning of two men could also have it in him to arrange to have my father killed for his notes.”

  The theory sounded plausible, but it was based solely on speculation. “How would Freddie fit into all this?”

  “That’s the part I haven’t been able to figure out.” Her expression darkened as she released a ragged breath. “I can’t explain it, but I feel it’s connected. Somehow...”

  He rose to his feet and offered a hand to assist her in rising as well. Despite the somber subject matter, the warm slide of her palm stirred his blood. What had she done to him?

  Resting his hands on her shoulders, he brushed his thumbs along the bottom edge of her jaw as he looked down at her with a heavy brow. “I’ll have Morley dig deeper into this society and Emsworth’s activities around the time of your father’s death and these last few months. If there’s anything there, we’ll find it.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. Her eyes were grave and her expression troubled. A forceful pressure filled Mason’s chest as he detected the fear and frustration she tried hard to contain.

  The strong urge to draw her into him and offer comfort in addition to his attempt at assurance was unusual and startling. Instead, he gave a nod and lowered his hands to his sides.

  When she turned to close the trunk, he slid a soft gaze over her straight spine and the capable slope of her shoulders. His heart was heavy in his chest.

  He wasn’t a comforting sort.

  More than that, however...he was certain she wouldn’t accept it.

  THE SOUND OF THE CLOCK striking the hour of two in the morning was ominous in the otherwise silent house. Even after the second chime had faded, Katherine continued to feel its reverberations in her body. Though she’d retired to her bedroom some time ago, she sat fully dressed in her reading chair. The book she’d hoped might distract her had been set aside long ago.

  Earlier, after ensuring Newton and his trained guards were properly stationed about the house, Hale had gone to meet with his man to discuss further investigation into Emsworth and to see if any additional information on Warfield had been discovered. Though they did not know how or if Warfield was involved, the fact that he’d apparently been watching the Blackwells was still of some concern.

  That had been several hours ago and he hadn’t yet returned.

  If what she suspected about their enemy was true—if he had murdered her father in addition to the crimes already attributed to him—he was clearly a very dangerous and determined adversary. If Hale got too close in his pursuit of information, his own life would be at risk.

  Katherine tried to excuse her anxiety as nothing more than impatience. But she couldn’t deny her apprehension over the delay on his return, even though the idea of worrying over a man such as Mason Hale was near laughable.

  People feared him, they didn’t worry over him.

  She was being ridiculous.

  Forcing herself to get ready for bed, she changed into her nightgown and removed the pins from her coiffure. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she’d just begun pulling a brush through her hair to release the tangles when she heard a quiet knock accompanied by rough whispered words, “It’s me. You awake?”

  A rush of relief had her rising swiftly to her feet. Hale had returned.

  And he was at her bedroom door.

  “I’m awake,” she called out, her voice a little breathless.

  After a pause, he said, “D’you intend to open the door, or shall I tell you what I learned from out here?”

  There was obvious amusement in his tone, and it brought to mind the image of how his lips tilted and curled when he smiled. And that brought to mind how his mouth had felt against hers...

  Her belly swirled and she pressed a palm to her abdomen. He’d come to her bedroom to provide a report, nothing more. There was no reason for her body to ignite in delicate flames of desire or for her blood to rush with heat and her skin to flush with sensitivity.

  Now was not the time for such distractions. She needed to be focused and dedicated to resolving the threat against Frederick. Hale was Frederick’s bodyguard. His role in that capacity was far
more important than her personal desires.

  “Just a moment.”

  Taking a deep breath, she returned her brush to the vanity and crossed purposefully to the door. After another fortifying breath, she opened it a few inches—just enough to allow the width of her face.

  He stood closer than she’d expected. Immense and tall. Dressed in buff-colored breeches and black boots with a dark navy coat over his grey waistcoat and white shirt. He wore no cravat and the neck of his shirt was open to reveal the shadow of his collarbone. His hair was in his usual queue, but several strands had come free to brush rakishly against his hard-hewn cheeks and jaw.

  He looked dangerous. Dangerous and wicked and everything her body craved and her reckless heart yearned for.

  “What is it?” The tension caused by her inner turmoil made the words harsh.

  His brows dipped for a second before lifting again as he offered a casual grin. “Just thought I’d provide an update on our progress.”

  “You realize it’s the middle of the night.”

  “Does it matter?”

  She didn’t hesitate. “Not if you have something valuable to impart.”

  Leaning one great shoulder against the doorframe, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You know, this conversation’d be a lot more comfortable if we weren’t having it in a doorway.”

  Despite her tingling response to the teasing glint in his gaze, she arched her brow imperiously.

  He huffed in disappointment. “The men we’ve had following Warfield reported that although the man’s been busy around town, he hasn’t come near the house and hasn’t done anything to suggest he was involved with the kidnappings. We’ve now also got men assigned to watching Emsworth’s residence. He won’t be going anywhere without our knowing about it.”

  A breath of relief softened her spine. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. As she waited to see if he had anything more to add, his attention slid down what was visible of her body through the narrow opening of the door.

  Underneath the loose fall of her white cotton nightgown, her skin burned and tingled.