Forbidden Desires of a Seductive Duchess: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel

Home > Other > Forbidden Desires of a Seductive Duchess: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel > Page 26
Forbidden Desires of a Seductive Duchess: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 26

by Violet Hamers


  “I saw him at the Club, only about an hour before he…” Her father trailed off. He so rarely spoke of any of the goings-on at the Millgate Club.

  “Did he seem scared at all?” she asked, pouring herself a cup of tea.

  “No, he—seemed rather jolly,” her father replied. “Not a care in the world.” He was silent for a few moments. He folded the paper up decisively, then stood up pushing his chair back.

  “Where are you going?” Arabella asked, as she mixed her sugar and cream into her tea. Her fear was for Charles, who had promised her that he had a solid alibi at all times.

  “To speak with the constables. They won’t suspect the man who is to be my son-in-law after all. I won’t have it.”

  Arabella smiled at him. “Thank you, Pappa,” she said.

  “Of course,” he replied. “There will be no stain of false accusation upon my family.”

  Arabella smiled at him, watching as he left the room. She took a slice of toast from the rack, buttering it. She took a bite then washed it down with a sip of tea.

  After she ate, she decided to go and see Charles. She collected Annette to accompany her. As they both walked to the door she ran into her mother who was just coming down the stairs.

  “Where are you headed?” the Duchess asked.

  “To see Mr. Conolly,” she replied. “I have some questions for him in regards to the wedding.”

  “Tell him that he must go and see your father’s tailor. Will you take the carriage?” she asked.

  “No. I’ll take Isis,” she replied.

  “The poor Duke of Longmire,” her mother said. “He cared for you very much to have given you such a gift.”

  “It was very kind,” Arabella agreed, even though she doubted his affections. He had given her a present simply because he could afford it and he wanted her to know that he could. “I certainly didn’t wish him ill.”

  “But you didn’t love him,” her mother said, sadly.

  “Unfortunately for him, no.”

  “I am glad that you are going to be happily married,” her mother said. “At eighteen, too.”

  Arabella smiled. Her heart felt light for the first time in what felt like an age. She was concerned—her father had been receiving those letters. That couldn’t bode well.

  Charles was at his office, with Lord Dunsmore. They were both seated across from each other, the desk in between them. Lord Dunsmore had arrived shortly after the office had opened, clutching a newspaper.

  “Another killing,” Charles said, shaking his head. “I can’t believe that they haven’t found the perpetrator. I can’t believe we haven’t found him.”

  “Whoever he is, he’s escalating. He’s getting far more confident,” Lord Dunsmore said. “That means he’s likely to make a mistake. Anyone could’ve seen him last night.”

  The front door opened, the bell above it ringing. “Let me go and see who that is,” Charles said.

  He was pleasantly surprised to see Arabella and Annette there.

  “Come in,” he said. “Lord Dunsmore was just telling me what he’s found out.”

  “Lord Dunsmore!” Lady Arabella said as she entered the office. “I didn’t know that you knew Mr. Conolly.”

  “I do,” Lord Dunsmore replied. “Mr. Conolly has been my client for some time now.”

  Arabella’s eyebrows raised. “Well, then, do tell us.”

  “My Lady, I don’t mean to be indelicate, but some of the details that I have are…rather unsavory.”

  “I can stomach them,” Arabella replied, sitting down. “Mr. Conolly and I are all but engaged, after all.”

  “We are now at five victims,” Lord Dunsmore explained. “All of them are members of the ton, married or planning to be married. Two things which stand out are that they were members of the Millgate Club as well as that they shared a passion for a specific brothel.”

  “Oh dear,” Arabella said.

  “Mr. Conolly and I have already investigated the Millgate Club connection. We have both successfully eliminated it.”

  “Which leaves the brothel,” Charles said. “Madam Christina’s.”

  “Indeed. It is the same brothel where the Duke of Longmire was murdered, as well as the supposed destination that Lord Mowbray was on his way to when he was killed in the street.”

  “I have done this part of the investigation on my own,” Lord Dunsmore said, “As it is rare for gentlemen to travel to brothels in pairs.”

  He pulled out his notes, which were on rather tired looking pages. Long lists of names. Arabella and Charles both leaned forward in their chairs, to have a look at them.

  “There are fifteen women working there. I will continue my investigation into them. I am insinuating myself into the place. I am keeping it a secret, so if the two of you could keep it to yourselves, I would much appreciate it.”

  Arabella had listened, all of the clues adding up. It had to be someone involved with Madame Christina’s. She wasn’t sure who. She’d never heard the brothel mentioned before.

  “Of course, I can keep it a secret,” Arabella said. “By the way, I wanted to point out that my father has been receiving letters just like the others.”

  Neither one of them seem surprised. Perhaps Pappa’s told them.

  “We’ve been looking into it,” Lord Dunsmore replied. He looked, suddenly, nervous. “Perhaps, Mr. Conolly, you should be the one to say?”

  “Your father is a procurer of sorts at the Millgate Club,” Charles told her. “He goes by the name of Mr. Bones.”

  She frowned. “I’ve been in his secret room,” she said. “There’s a pirate flag, kept on the shelf. As well as his ledger.”

  “Perhaps you could take a look at it?” Charles asked. “See if any of these names are in it?”

  “I could,” she offered, happy to be of use to the investigation.

  “That would be a great help, My Lady,” Lord Dunsmore said.

  “Of course,” she replied. “Can I borrow that paper?”

  “Certainly. I have another,” Lord Dunsmore replied, as he handed her the list, so she could cross-reference the names. She folded it up and put it inside of her reticule.

  “Let me know if you need me to do anything,” Charles offered. He felt uneasy about having Lord Dunsmore go there alone.

  “Not to worry,” Lord Dunsmore said. “I have my footman come to keep watch outside of the door while I acquire information.”

  “Is there anything else?” Charles asked.

  “No. And now, if you’ll both excuse me, I have fifteen women who I need to investigate.” Lord Dunsmore bowed to them both, and then swept out of the room.

  Arabella and Charles were left alone, as Lord Dunsmore closed the door behind him. They smiled at each other for a moment. Charles leaned back against his desk, folding his arms.

  “What brings you here?” he asked, curiously. He was glad to see her, no matter what her reason was.

  “My father has gone to speak with the constables,” she explained. “I came to check on you.” He was touched.

  “The constabulary has not been here,” he assured her. “Although I have no doubt that they’ll be stopping by to check my alibi.”

  “Do you have one?” she asked.

  “My housekeeper, Mrs. Osbourne,” he replied. “She saw me come in, and she saw me several times throughout the evening.”

  “Good,” she replied.

  “I’ll need to come and see the house,” she replied. “So that I can start making plans.” As mistress of the house, she would have to make sure that everything was to her liking. He would be happy to bow to her wishes.

  “Of course,” he said. “You may decorate it as you see fit. It’s a bit of a blank canvas at the moment.”

  “I have to meet Mrs. Osbourne,” she said, excitedly. “After her help over the summer and fall with the letters, I’m dying to meet her.”

  “She’s excited as well,” Charles assured her. “Only this morning, she began a thorough clean o
f the place. Not that it needed it.”

  Arabella beamed. “I came to talk about this,” she said. “I—I wanted to know what it was like to talk to you about our future.”

  He smiled. “Our future,” he replied.

  “Such a beautiful thing. Although my mother is in a frenzy to have me married,” she replied. “She’s excited to have me wed at eighteen.”

  He got up from his desk, and she walked over and into his arms. He just held her, in silence. Her mind was full—she raised her eyes to his. He kissed her.

  “Did you and Annette come unaccompanied?” he asked, suddenly concerned.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “With this murderer about, I don’t think that’s safe.”

  She frowned.

  “Before you tell me about your fencing abilities, which I recall are far better than my own.” He smiled at her. “Let me accompany you to your door. For my sake, so that I’m not worrying about you.”

  “Must you?”

  “I absolutely must,” he replied. “Because I love you. I wouldn’t bear it if anything happened. You know, I saw Lady Violet Fanning, just after Lord Drysdale’s death. I don’t want that for either of us. We’re not taking any chances, love.”

  “Very well, Annette and I will allow you to accompany us.”

  Charles saw them to the door. They all walked, even though that meant leading her horse. She was blissfully happy. At the front door, he bowed gallantly to the both of them.

  “Well, Mr. Conolly should have come in,” her mother said, a little put out.

  “He likely had something of the barrister sort to do,” Arabella replied. They were both having tea in the parlor.

  “We’ll need to have the engagement announced,” her mother said. “Then, there will have to be a party, of course.”

  “Naturally,” Arabella replied.

  “I won’t be held back by the ton,” her mother stated. “I’m just as pleased as if he’d been a gentleman.”

  “I’m glad to hear you say that,” she said, happy that everyone was finally happy about it.

  “Well, marrying for love is much better,” her mother remarked. “Although, I do wish that the Duke of Longmire hadn’t been murdered.”

  “We all do, Mother.”

  “It’s such a shame,” the Duchess said. “I suppose his estate and title will have to go to a cousin.”

  “It must,” Arabella replied. Like her, the Duke of Longmire had been an only child. The considerable estate would pass to the next male relation.

  “At the very least, his poor parents won’t have to endure the heartache,” her mother went on, her eyes distant. She turned to Arabella, reaching out and taking her hand. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

  “Luckily, you’ll never have to know, Mamma,” she said.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  After leaving Arabella and Annette at the Kensington address, Charles returned to his office, for his meeting with Lord Norton. Lord Norton was on time, as promised.

  “Welcome, My Lord,” Charles said, ushering him in. “Would you care for a drink?”

  “No, thank you,” Lord Norton was rather morose clearly expecting bad news.

  “I trust you read my letter,” Charles said, wondering just how to broach the subject at hand. Lord Norton nodded.

  “I imagine my cousin is still trying to disinherit me?” Lord Norton mused, raising an eyebrow. “He’s been trying to do it since last summer.”

  Charles sighed. Clearly Lord Norton wasn’t up for any niceties. “He’s prepared to give you a generous offer in order for you to not challenge the changes to the will.”

  “Very well. Let’s see it.” Lord Norton pulled out a pair of spectacles balancing them on the bridge of his nose.

  Charles pulled out the Duke’s note passing it across the desk. Lord Norton’s eyes widened. Enheartened, Charles went on.

  “Due to the recent changes to the will, you would be acquiring far less than that,” Charles explained. “Most of it would go to the Lady Arabella and her mother. What’s the point of a title, if you don’t have the money to support it?”

  Lord Norton was quiet for a long moment. He was staring at the note, pulling his lips inward, over his teeth. He tapped one fingernail on the arm of the chair in which he sat.

  “You already have an estate, and a title,” Charles went on.

  “I have always wanted to be Duke,” Lord Norton said. “But if the estate is no longer coming to me in its entirety, as you say—”

  “Well, the Duchess’s fortune will be going to her, as agreed,” Charles said. “And then, the Duke has recently increased Lady Arabella’s monthly allowance, then with the death duties, you would be receiving much less than that. The Duke is willing to give this money to you now. There would be no death duties. You would only need to sign away your rights in favor of the Lady Arabella.”

  Lord Norton sat in silence. His one eye twitched a little. Charles sat back, his hands folded. He wasn’t quite sure that Lord Norton would do this. It was a gamble. Not to mention, it would be the talk of the ton.

  Lord Norton sighed. “Very well. Give me the document.”

  Charles smiled, pulling out the papers, passing them across the desk. Lord Norton read it through, nodding. He accepted the quill from Charles, dipping it into the ink pot.

  “It’s a sad day when such a lady receives a title on top of it,” Lord Norton said as he signed his name with a flourish. “But I’m a business man myself. I know when to take a loss.”

  “Why is that?” Charles asked, disapprovingly. There was no reason to insult Arabella.

  “He’ll just continue to erode the estate until it’s worthless to me,” Lord Norton said. “He’s far smarter than I am, and far more ruthless.”

  Charles smiled at him. Lord Norton wasn’t hurting. Maybe a little disappointed, but he was still the Master of Norton Hall, and was now quite a bit richer than he had been prior to walking in.

  Lord Norton paused, shaking his head. “I never understood them, not at all,” he said sadly.

  That much has always been clear.

  “Well,” Charles said. “You will have your money by the end of the business day tomorrow. I will deliver it myself to whichever address you give me now.”

  Arabella and her parents were sitting up in the parlor. Arabella took a sip of her tea. It had been a quiet day. Arabella’s thoughts were of her impending nuptials, and what happened after.

  She’d thought long about the things that would come. The idea of being alone with Charles, with no one to interfere or interrupt was positively delectable.

  Her mind was filled with clothes, slowly being removed, and what Charles might look like, dressed only in the light of the candles. After all, she had placed her hand on his chest. Through his clothing, he was solid—fit.

  She imagined Charles, trailing kisses along her neck. It caused her to heat up, despite sipping her tea as casually as though she were thinking about the Reverend Daniels’s sermon from last Sunday.

  “So?” her mother said, interrupting her thoughts. “Shall we invite Mr. Conolly over to dine with us?”

  Her father smiled. “Speaking of Mr. Conolly, he’s sent me word.”

  “About what?” Arabella asked, wondering what could have been said without her knowing.

  “He’s convinced Lord Norton to sign away his rights to the title and Tiverwell Manor, my dear.”

  “What does that mean?” Arabella asked, sitting up straighter. No one had told her of this—not even Charles!

  I’ll give him trouble for not mentioning this!

  “It means that you are my sole heir, and whomever you marry will receive the title upon my death,” her father said.

  Arabella sat, staring at him in surprise. She glanced over at her mother, who had placed her teacup down with a clatter.

  “What could convince Lord Norton to do that?” the Duchess asked.

  “A monetary fee, to be paid upon signin
g,” her father said, clearly proud of himself. “If he receives it now, there will be no death duties. He couldn’t refuse.”

  “Where did you get this money?” the Duchess inquired. Arabella was glad that her mother was asking the questions. It was far more than she herself was capable of at that moment.

 

‹ Prev