The Rough Lord

by Emma Brady

  The Rough Lord

  The Sinners Club

  Emma Brady

  Published by Emma Brady, 2019.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  To Jessica Cale, the best editor a girl could ask for. You always make my work better and teach me along the way. May your days be dark and stormy, but always full of adventure.

  Chapter 1

  BEING INSIDE THE CITY of London was making him itch under his clothes like a rash he couldn’t get rid of. Clayton Powell, younger brother to the Duke of Ashford, fought the urge to scratch at the collar of his coat as he stepped into the carriage house. He already looked odd, walking around in the same clothes he wore when he was in Cape Town, but scratching would only make them wonder if carried bugs. Since he was supposed to be one of the “civilized” now, he was going to need to control his appearance.

  “I still don’t understand why you are in such a hurry to leave,” said Rexington Holland, youngest son of the Earl of Walsh, and Clayton’s only friend.

  They both had histories in London, stories they chose not to share. Rex had learned Clayton’s when the Duke of Ashford showed up looking for his lost brother, but Rex still kept his secrets hidden. It was that shared confidence that made them such good friends. That and the number of scrapes they had gotten each other out of in a foreign land.

  “I just don’t like being inside the city. It makes me feel trapped.” Clayton couldn’t explain the feeling any better than that. “Besides, the sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.”

  “You are not giving me much time to enjoy the place.”

  “You have already spent the first half of the day in bed.”

  “I wasn’t alone, at least,” Rex argued.

  That explained the faint sent of roses in the air at their rented rooms. Any of the fancy ladies from the night before could have been in his friend’s company. Rex was the type of man who oozed charm and women lapped it up like sweet cream. They always left more satisfied than when they arrived and not once did he ever see them make a scene. Rex moved through life like a river, never crossing the same woman twice. Clayton preferred to focus on work instead of the ladies, since he had no taste for casual dalliances.

  “After dragging me across the world, you could at least let me have some entertainment.” Rex let out a loud yawn.

  “I didn’t want to come here at all, remember?”

  “How could I forget your brother appearing like God Himself and demanding your return?”

  It wasn’t something Clayton could forget. Clayton had been doing just fine when Thomas had come into the tiny mining town where he was working. As always, the duke made his presence known and his power felt. Thomas insisted Clayton return home to comfort his mother and resume his life in London, none of which he welcomed doing. Especially the part where he had to explain why his twin brother Christian wasn’t there as well.

  “Why does your brother have to be so heavy handed? Being a duke doesn’t give him the right to move people all around the globe,” Rex grumbled, rubbing at the stubble across his chin.

  “Apparently it does, because here we are.”

  Even as children, Thomas had always been the one giving the orders while Clayton and Christian followed them. The twins were good natured and happy to be lazy, so it worked well back then. Now Clayton felt it chafe against his ego to be told what to do.

  Rex mumbled something under his breath and kicked at the dirt. Clayton felt much the same way. The scent of leather and horses was familiar and strangely comforting as they walked through the tiny carriage house. It reminded him of being home in Africa, and for a moment he felt a surge of longing.

  “Can I help you?” the man behind the desk asked.

  “I hear I can hire a carriage to take me out of the city here.”

  “Depends. How far do you want to take it? Longer the trip, the more it will cost you.”

  Since his ship had arrived two weeks early, Clayton was without a carriage of his own. His choices were to hire a carriage or wait the two weeks until his brother’s came. As he felt the urge to scratch between his shoulders, Clayton knew which one he had to pick.

  “I need to go to Chatham.”

  “That won’t be cheap.”

  The proprietor looked at his clothes, which were out of place here, assuming he wouldn’t be able to afford it. Clayton knew that he wasn’t dressed as a gentleman of his station should be. He wasn’t wearing a fancy suit with shiny buttons or a piece of silk in the pocket. He wore a suit of a light beige linen, made to resist the harsh African sun. It had been worn enough times that the fabric showed its age. The buttons had fallen off a long time ago and it had been years since Clayton had bothered with a hat. With his jacket open, his suspenders and rough shirt showed without dignity. His clothes were made of good materials, but they were not just for decoration. They belonged to a man who knew what it was to put in a day’s work. In London, those kind of men didn’t often have very deep pockets.

  “I have the money for it.”

  Clayton pulled out the one thing of real value that he kept on him, the money clip he was given by his dying mentor. It was made of gold and etched with a dramatic lion and hunter. The lion had a large ruby in its mouth, and the edges were decorated with diamonds. It held only a modest number of bills, but Clayton let that piece of jewelry speak to his ability to pay.

  The owner’s eyes grew wide with surprise and his mouth opened. “I can have it ready for you by first light tomorrow. How many will be traveling with you?”

  “Just me and a good friend.”

  Rex was reluctant to leave the city, but Clayton wasn’t giving him a choice. After their years of living in Cape Town, the other young lord missed the excitement of London. He had spent the first night entertaining himself and would be happy to stay, yet he had agreed to accompany his friend home, so they would be leaving tomorrow.

  The owner nodded, keeping his gaze focused on the money clip as Clayton tucked it back into his pocket. Murdoch had died with very little of his own to leave behind, and Clayton had managed to hold onto this one piece no matter what. It was a momento from a time in his life that had very little good in it. It was the closest thing he had to a good luck charm.

  “Excuse me, is this where I can find a carriage for hire?”

  The soft female voice pulled his attention toward the door. It had been windy outside, but it must have gotten worse; the woman stumbled through the front door. She was dressed in a fine walking gown of dark purple with black lace around the shoulders and hips, but leaves were stuck to her from top to bottom. The trim matched the hat dangling from the side of her face. She appeared as if the wind had tossed her into the building.

  Dark auburn hair fell beneath the hat and down her shoulder. Her head tilted up and Clayton felt his breath catch. She had a beautiful face with a perfect pale complexion and rosy cheeks. Pink lips parted as she caught her breath, revealing a hint of straight white teeth. Yet it was the twinkle of humor in those hazel eyes that mesmerized him. Most women would be in a huff after being tossed around by the weather, but she appeared as if she was about to laugh.

  “The sign outside was swinging around
too much for me to read it properly, but I assume this is the right place.” She attempted to put her hat back in its place but was having little luck with it.

  “Yes, this is Trenton Stables.” The man behind the desk stood up so quickly he shuffled the papers on it. “How may I help you?”

  “I was wanting to hire a carriage to take me home tomorrow. My name is Lady Rory Chadwick, and I need to travel a day’s ride east of here.”

  “Oh...” The man looked lost for a moment as he realized he no longer had a carriage to offer.

  “I am in a hurry to leave the city. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy, just a serviceable vehicle and trustworthy driver.”

  Those sharply intelligent eyes kept darting sideways to look at Clayton. A gentleman would introduce himself and put her at ease, but something about the way she was looking at him made him bristle.

  “I’m afraid Mr. Murdoch here just rented my last vehicle.” The stable owner nodded in his direction. “I won’t have another one until at least next week.”

  “Mr. Murdoch?” She put the emphasis on the Mr. part of his name.

  “Clayton Murdoch. Pleased to meet you.”

  Clayton extended his hand to her, knowing full well how improper it was to approach a lady like that. She recoiled and stared at his hand as if he were holding a snake. After a few seconds he let his hand drop with a chuckle.

  “Surely you must have another?” She looked at the owner with wide eyes. “It is urgent I leave as soon as possible.”

  The man shrugged and shook his head.

  Those sharp eyes turned to him again. “Mr. Murdoch, is your trip due to some kind of emergency?”

  Again, she was making sure he heard his lack of title clearly. His current identity was a little uncertain. Using the old man’s name had been easier the last few years, and it had slipped quickly from his tongue. The name Powell sounded rusty to his own ears and he no longer felt like he deserved a title. He just wasn’t ready to take back his name yet.

  Clayton could have embarrassed her by giving her his family name, but that would be less satisfying. Instead, he preferred to let her think he was a commoner, but one who had something she wanted.

  “No, not really urgent.”

  She let out a sigh. “See? Mr. Murdoch would be happy to assist by letting me have use of the carriage.”

  She gave him the sweetest smile while she told that bold lie to the owner.

  “I’m afraid I’m not willing to be so helpful,” Clayton said, crossing his arms. “I have already paid for the carriage and made plans to leave the city. I will be using that carriage to do so.”

  “But I need it. My families status should give me some privilege.”

  “Then you should have gotten here earlier. Sleeping in does have its drawbacks.”

  “It’s still early.”

  “I have been up since sunrise, along with most of the working class.” Clayton turned to the owner, who was watching them open mouthed. “What time did you get in this morning?”

  “Umm...” Clearly he didn’t want to answer against the lady.

  “Precisely. If you in the peerage want to waste the morning, then you have to accept the consequences.”

  He could tell his words were having their intended effect on her as those eyes narrowed and her cheeks became almost rose colored.

  “Mr. Murdoch, I insist you allow me the use of that carriage.”

  “Or else?”

  “Yes.”

  “Or else what?”

  “I will...” She huffed, trying to think of a fitting threat. “I will make sure your reputation is ruined. No one will do business with you.”

  Clayton couldn’t help but laugh, doubling over from it. She stomped her foot until he stopped.

  “As frightened as I am by the thought of that”—he wiped a tear from his eye—“I don’t worry much about my reputation, so do with it what you will. I’m still going to be the one traveling out of London tomorrow.”

  She blinked, and he could see the shimmer of tears forming in her eyes. Presumably not wanting to make more of a scene, she nodded and straightened her back. “Very well. I will come back.”

  Something in her expression gave away her desperation, and while he still believed she was too spoiled by half, he couldn’t turn her away if she really was in a dire situation. He glanced at Rex, who shrugged and moved farther away from the two of them, pulling the owner with him. The lady was too upset to notice they were now alone.

  “You said you were headed east?”

  She stopped just before she went out the front door. Slowly, she turned, but she kept her face down so he couldn’t see her distress as clearly.

  “Yes, we are going to my country home. My companion and I were hoping to leave as soon as possible.”

  “Companion?”

  “Yes, my friend Miss Capshaw and I.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. “Your voice has a hint of an accent. Where are you from?”

  Clayton grew up near London, but the last memory he had of being in England was a wild night with his twin brother in the city. He and Christian were just leaving a well-established gambling hell when they had been attacked. Everything after that belonged to another life, to his new name.

  “Africa. I just arrived back from Cape Town.”

  “Oh.”

  Her eyes widened enough that he could see the specks of green in them, and those pinks lips formed a perfect O. Her reaction was similar to the rest of the people Clayton had met since returning. The English often forgot how far-reaching the Queen’s kingdom was.

  “Yes, I spent the last few years there. Now I’m home and ready to spend time with my family. Going home is what I rented the carriage for.”

  “I see. I wish you a safe journey.” The words were mingled with a sigh of disappointment.

  “You said that you live only a day to the east? That is the same direction I will be traveling.” Clayton had no idea what made him say such a thing, but the words were out before he knew it.

  “You suggest we ride together?”

  The idea startled her enough that she dropped her bag. They both went to reach for it and their hands brushed together. Even through the silky fabric of her gloves, he felt the warmth of her. It had been a long time since he had been that close to a woman. Not many to choose from in the African mining towns.

  “As far as I can tell, that’s your only choice if you want to leave by tomorrow.”

  She hesitated, which was prudent in such an unusual situation. Leaving the city must be urgent if she was willing to take such a risk by traveling with strangers.

  “Very well, I will accept your generosity. We will meet you here in the morning.”

  “We could pick you up.”

  She smiled as if she thought he was adorable. “No, I think meeting here would be better than a stranger knowing where I live.”

  This time when she went to leave, Clayton didn’t stop her but watched her walk out. The woman had a graceful sway to her step that was hard not to notice.

  “Hope you know what you are doing, sir,” the carriage master said with a chuckle.

  Chapter 2

  ICING SUGAR COATED her dark purple gloves and the silk handkerchief she pulled from her bag. She shouldn’t have stopped at the confectioners on her way home, but she had felt a rumble in her tummy when she left the carriage shop. Rory didn’t want to go there to begin with, but it was becoming urgent that she leave London. Her brother Henry had taken their carriage to go to Scotland for his honeymoon, so she’d had no other choice but to hire one. It still made her feel the nibbles though. Quickly she tried to wipe her hands on her skirt, but that only left white powder on it as well.

  “Where were you?” Darla was standing at the door when she approached, her hands on her hips. “You didn’t leave a note or anything. I just woke up from my nap and you were gone.”

  The tone of her voice was stern, but the look in her eyes was frightened. Rory felt guilty for putting her frie
nd through such worry. Darla had been her companion since her parents had died almost six years ago. They had been friends during school, then Darla’s family had lost everything and she had fallen to the mercy of her cousin’s family. That wasn’t a pleasant story, but it had pushed her into accepting employment in Rory’s house. Although Darla was only three years older, still a few years below thirty, she was well on the shelf and took her responsibility as companion very seriously.

  “I had an errand to run. You looked so peaceful sleeping, I didn’t want to disturb you.” Rory stepped past her and into the house.

  “I had one of my headaches.” There was a blush on Darla’s face that Rory could see from the end of the foyer. “But you should have waited so I could go with you. You shouldn’t travel the city alone.”

  “My brother has already told me about all the dangerous men to be afraid of.”

  “I’m not sure he should be the one giving lessons on proper behavior.”

  “Henry stopped being a rake years ago. He’s even reformed enough to be married.”

  “Not to a proper lady.”

  “Kitty was married to a baron before Henry. That makes her a lady by definition.”

  Darla snorted and Rory couldn’t help but smile. Her friend really did need to loosen up a little.

  “Her history before her marriage is none of our concern. As long as she makes my brother ridiculously happy, I don’t see how it matters.”

  Henry had decided to marry an ex-actress he’d met at a weekend card party. At first Rory had been against the woman, mostly because she had beaten Rory in the tournament. Yet there was no denying how in love the two of them were, and eventually Rory had also fallen under Kitty’s spell. Darla just took a little longer to warm up to people.

  “So are you going to tell me where you were?” Darla also had the tenacity of a dog on a bone.

  “I was arranging for our traveling. We will be leaving in the morning, so we had better start packing soon. There will be too much for the maids to do alone.”

  Rory ignored the gasp she heard from her friend and started toward the kitchen. She was feeling the nibbles again. If memory served, there was a plate of cookies in there that would help with that.