Duke of Dishonor: Lords of Scandal

by Tammy Andresen

  “It will.” He answered, looking away from her as he cleared his throat. “And I can help you dress, love. I’m about to be your husband.”

  “Oh,” she said, opening the door a bit wider. “Husbands don’t really attend to their wives’ garments, do they?”

  “Certainly,” he answered with a smile. “You’d be surprised at the intimacy of matrimony.”

  “I suppose I will,” she answered, frowning. “My father was gone a great deal, which meant I didn’t witness my parents’ relationship all that much.”

  “He insisted on conducting expansions himself.” Brandon said as he turned away from her. “But I do believe that Eliza and Menace are going to conduct the next business trip together.” He smiled over his shoulder. “I shall give you privacy while you put on your shift.”

  She turned too, wishing there was a screen at least. But she quickly pulled his shirt over her head and pulled on her shift. Then she sat to put on her stockings and pantaloons.

  Brandon turned back, extending out his hands. He held a dress of fine blue wool. “How did you manage that?” she said with a smile.

  He chuckled. “With a bit of difficulty.” He set another parcel on the table. “To attend to your other needs.”

  Then he carefully unfolded the gown and began helping her into the garment.

  His hands skimmed her body, as he completed the terribly personal act of helping her dress. She’d known that he’d done the same last night, but she’d been so tired, she’d hardly been aware. Now, her body hummed with the intimacy.

  When he was done, she had the distinct feeling of being too hot, and she shifted away. “When…” she looked away. “When do we wed?”

  “If you’ll have me, in the next hour.”

  She turned back to him then, cold replacing the heat. “An hour? This is to be my wedding dress then?”

  He reached for her hand. “No. Well yes. This is our ceremony of necessity. You can consider the next one the marriage of romance.”

  She gave a stiff nod. “Are we to go into town?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t have the license for that. The captain will perform the ceremony once we’re out to sea. The next ceremony will be the one recognized by church and state.”

  “Then why have this one at all?” she asked. Nervous butterflies danced in her stomach. Was it just nerves? It wasn’t every day a woman woke to find she was marrying a duke. But even after all their talking, she still didn’t feel like she understood Brandon.

  He’d said that he cared. But there was a distance in his gaze. One she couldn’t name, and she didn’t understand.

  Perhaps, despite his assertion that he cared, he wanted control of the business? Had he lied?

  She sighed. Questions like this were only muddying the waters.

  “You’re very quiet.” He reached out and pulled her close.

  “I’m questioning myself,” she replied honestly. “My head doesn’t know which way to go.”

  “Then perhaps you should listen to your heart. What does it want?”

  That made her soften…everywhere. She knew what she wanted. Always had.

  Yes, she wished to be in charge of her life, but she also wanted him. Had from the first moment. “You.”

  His arms were around her then, his lips covering hers.

  She lost herself in that kiss.

  He gathered her close, his arms supporting her weight as their bodies came together.

  And here in his arms, it all felt so right.

  An hour later, Brandon stood on the deck as Caroline, or Aunt Mildred, walked Emily to his side.

  He tried not to grimace. Even he knew how wrong this was. Her dress fit her fine, but it was tight in the chest and loose in the waist. The woman he’d purchased it from clearly wasn’t as endowed as Emily.

  Nor did it feel right to have no one they cared about in attendance.

  He should have told her about his past before this. It wasn’t right that she married him without knowing.

  Her pretty mouth was set in a frown as she approached, which only added to his feelings of guilt.

  The ceremony took all of five minutes with the captain quickly asking each of them if they consented to the match.

  He agreed and held his breath as Emily was asked the same question. She gave a tentative nod and then a whispered yes.

  And then it was done.

  He captured her mouth in a brief kiss, sweeping her back to her cabin…well, his cabin. Their cabin now.

  A small meal was being delivered and then…

  Then they’d have to talk.

  He could not consummate the match without sharing what he’d done. It was that simple. She wanted control and it was time he gave it to her.

  This time she managed her way down the shipman’s ladder on her own and then slipped her hand into his as they made their way back into the cabin. “Not very far to travel,” she murmured, a slight smile lightening the mood.

  He chuckled. “I suppose we’re actually travelling a great distance when you consider we’ve embarked on a sea journey.”

  “Do you think my sisters are all right?” She stopped in the middle of the room, worrying her lip.

  Another stab of guilt. He knew her kind heart must be worried sick about her sisters. But they had plenty of men to keep them safe. She was his concern. “I think they’re fine,” he answered, taking her hand again. “While in Harwich, I sent another communication back to Bash and we’ll hear from him shortly after we arrive, I’m certain. I told him our destination and—”

  “Which is?” she asked, her brows rising.

  “Hull,” he replied. “It’s the one property I kept.”

  She gave a quick nod and then crossed the room to sit on the bed. “Do you have any siblings?”

  “No. Why?” he asked as he deliberately crossed to join her. He slid next to her as she gave him a long look.

  “Why? I don’t know a thing about you. That’s why. You’ve known my father for years. You know my sisters, my brothers-in-law. You’ve been to my home.”

  Brandon leaned back against the wall as he closed his eyes. She was right.

  “You told me to listen to my heart. Well, I’ll be honest. My heart says you’re hiding something.”

  Right again.

  “Well.” He cleared his throat. “I have no memory of my mother. And my father didn’t see fit to remarry as he had his heir. I’ve got one aunt, but I haven’t seen her in two decades at least.”

  “That makes two of us.”

  Now was the time. He drew in a sharp breath. “Your Aunt Mildred didn’t just abandon you. She’s unwell. Forgetful to the point of not functioning.”

  “And how do you know this?”

  He swallowed. “The Scot you’ve seen me with.” He looked over at her. “That is your cousin, Ewan.”

  She gasped in a breath as she scrambled to her knees. “He’s in London?”

  “He is,” Brandon answered. “He came to attend you girls.” Brandon grimaced. This time, Brandon had truly wanted to protect them, but he’d intercepted Ewan to stop him from seeing the girls. He’d been afraid that Ewan’s presence would propel the ring of criminals to attack the women. They’d not been a threat with no money and no control over the business.

  But he’d also robbed them of a protector and what was more…he’d gained a partner in rooting out the thieves. Which was for them, the Carrington sisters, but more for him and restoring his name.

  “Why didn’t he come to us?” She leaned forward, her eyes so intent, she’d not miss even a blink or a moment’s hesitation.

  “I was afraid he’d alert everyone to your father’s death.”

  “You were afraid…” her voice trailed off, but he felt the tension in the room thicken. “It was your choice to leave us unprotected.”

  His mouth pressed into a firm line as he sat up straighter. “I needed the thieves to think that we weren’t on to them. That it was business as usual.”

&n
bsp; Her hand fluttered up around her face. “When did he arrive in London?”

  He gritted his teeth. He knew how bad this sounded. “Five months ago.”

  “Five months?” Her voice trembled. “Five months?” With each word it grew louder. “You allowed us to think that our family had abandoned us completely for the last five months?”

  He scrubbed his face. “Try to understand. If they’d known, they might have focused their attack on you sooner. They might have shifted their business practices so that we couldn’t catch them. They might—”

  “I understand,” she said her voice sharp and clipped. “I understand perfectly. You made choices on our behalf months ago without consulting or making yourself known to any of us.”

  “I didn’t know you then and I needed to restore—"

  But her gasp made him stop. “Was this about our safety or your reputation?”

  Damn it all to bloody hell, he’d said too much. But he’d be honest now. “Both.” He reached for her, but she moved away. “I know that I took a gamble, and that gamble could have really hurt you.”

  “Did hurt us,” she said, her hands clenching into fists. “We grew so desperate that we sent Isabella in men’s clothing to become a dealer at a gaming hell. Eliza had to steal the clothes from a baron’s son and could have been ruined.”

  He shuddered. “I’m sorry.”

  Her arms had wrapped about her middle and she stood, crossing to the porthole. “You put us in great danger with your choices.”

  He didn’t follow her this time. He knew she needed her space, but his chest ached. “You’re right.” He dipped his head. “You said earlier that you sensed something keeping us apart. My father wanted me to be king. He spied for the French with the promise that should they overthrow the throne, I would become the new leader of England. He thought he was doing right by me, but in the end, I’ve suffered greatly for his choices.”

  Emily gasped even as she turned back to him. “Brandon.” There it was. That hint of compassion and sympathy creeping into her voice that he’d needed to hear.

  “I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, then scrubbed his face. “I told myself that I was helping both of us but when I made that choice to follow the thieves and end this investigation rather than rush to your side and keep that kidnapping from happening. Deep inside, I knew the truth. I behaved just like him.”

  His head sunk and he closed his eyes. The truth was out. She’d hate him if she wanted to, but he’d begin their marriage without secrets.

  Chapter Twelve

  In that moment, all of Emily’s anger evaporated. She’d never been able to be angry with someone who was furious with themselves.

  His head was sunk low, and in this moment, she knew exactly what he’d meant when he’d said that she had power.

  Right now, this moment, her future was hers to decide.

  Cross the room and hold his head against her stomach and soothe away his worries—or send him from the room and dissolve their match.

  It was her right.

  Her choice.

  She straightened as his head dropped into his hands.

  The truth was, she was furious with him for taking their options away. For forcing her sisters into increasingly dangerous situations.

  She was mad as all get out that he’d nearly ruined all of them.

  But nearly wasn’t actually and what he’d actually done was save them all. Isabella had landed at Bash’s door.

  And Eliza at Menace’s.

  And Brandon had solved the mystery and pushed the thieves from their business and, hopefully, from their lives.

  What was more, he’d kept his eye on her and made certain that when danger came too close, he pushed it away again.

  It had been a risk.

  And he’d made choices. Some of them wrong.

  He wasn’t the fantastical hero she’d imagined him to be. He was a man. Flesh and blood who’d made mistakes, protected her, married her, cleared his name, and saved hers.

  He wasn’t perfect. Neither was she.

  Words filled her mouth, but she couldn’t seem to sort them out. She was in love with him. That hadn’t changed.

  And he was still everything she’d dreamed of: tall, dark, handsome, strong. Her hero. Only he was more. A man too.

  One she could grow with. Change. Or not. But try to learn to be their best selves. Together.

  She crossed the room then, stopping a foot from his bent head. “I have a confession too.”

  His head jerked up, his eyes meeting hers. “You have a confession?”

  She nodded, her hands clasping. “Yes. I do.” She worried her lips as she looked down at him. “And if it changes your wish to be married to me, I will understand.”

  “Changes my wish…” his voice trailed off as he shook his head. “What could you possibly have done that would change my mind?”

  She shook her head. “I think we’ve established that I’m not likely to have done anything.”

  “Stop.” He stood then, and his arms came about her waist as he pulled her close. “Be kind to yourself, Emily. Give yourself the generosity that even now I feel you giving to me.”

  “Oh.” Those words hummed through her, softening her insides and making her next words easier. “Ever since you rescued me that first time,” she shifted, bracing herself for the next words. “I’m afraid I’ve been madly in love with you.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  She tried not to wince. Be brave, she told herself. “It’s true. How is a girl to resist? You’re so dashing, and mysterious, and larger than life.”

  A slow grin spread across his lips. “That is your secret, wife? That you love me?”

  She nodded her head. “Don’t make fun. It was difficult to say those words.”

  “I’m not poking at you at all.” And then he swooped down and kissed her long and slow, his tongue stroking across hers until she forgot all the words she’d been going to say.

  After several seconds, he lifted his head. “The truth is, in this regard, you’re far braver than me.”

  “I beg your pardon?” The combination of the kiss ending and his unexpected words left her confused.

  “The truth is, I’m also in love with you and have been for some time. I was just too afraid to admit the truth.”

  “Oh,” she whispered, tilting her chin to better look into his face. “Do you really mean that?”

  “Every word.” Then he slid a hand up her spine, cradling her head in his hand. “Are you willing to forgive my sins? It’s all right if you don’t. I can’t seem to forgive myself.”

  That almost made her smile. “Be kind to yourself.”

  His eyes widened for a split second before he gave her a tender smile. His hand slid around to hold the side of her face. “I put your family in danger.”

  “I know,” she sighed. “I’ll have to think long and hard about if, how, and when I share this all with my sisters. But,” she reached up and used the tip of her finger to trace the profile of his nose, “the truth is your decisions have put us all on the correct path. My sisters are all going to be married to titled lords. My family business restored. My father’s death avenged in the only way we can.”

  He stared at her, his lips parted as he brought his other hand up to fully cup her face. “I love you so much, Emily.” And then he kissed her. When he lifted his head, he murmured, “And I need you. I meant what I said when I told Eliza that she didn’t understand the power of your gift to comfort. I can’t be without you.”

  That was easy. Because now that he was part of her life, she couldn’t be without him either.

  He kissed Emily again, basking in her warmth, her floral scent, the softness of her body, and the way she fit against him like she was meant to be there.

  A knock sounded at the door and she jumped in his arms, but he held her firm.

  “Yes,” he called.

  “Your water, me lord,” a sailor replied.

  “Me lord?” she wh
ispered, a smile about her lips. “And water?”

  “Come in,” he called as he winked at her and eased his way back. Then he looked over at her. “And a bath for my bride.”

  The door opened as several men dragged in a tub and several buckets of hot water. “You managed a bath on a ship?”

  He winked again. “Not easily.”

  “That’s what you said about the dress.”

  He reached up and trailed his thumb over her cheekbone as the buckets were dumped into the small wooden tub. “True. Understand that I will, as your husband, go to great lengths to see to your comfort. I will put you first, Emily. I swear it.”

  She gave him a tender smile. “I believe you.”

  Relief coursed through him as the men left again, closing the door behind them. He placed his hands on her arms and spun her so that he might begin to undo her dress. “What are you doing?” she asked, stopping mid spin.

  “Getting you ready for your bath.”

  “You’re going to undo my dress again today?” She allowed him to finish spinning her and spoke over her shoulder.

  “Of course. I am your maid for the remainder of the journey.”

  “You’re a very large maid.”

  He chuckled. “Will you need help bathing, my lady?”

  She sucked in her breath, but he held her arms firm as he dipped down and placed a kiss where her shoulder and her neck met. “Brandon,” she started.

  “You’ll like it, my love, I promise.”

  He could feel her pulse fluttering under his lips. He smiled at her nervous excitement. “It’s just that it’s…the middle of the day.”

  His hands slid to the buttons and he began to undo them. “Well…” He kissed just a touch higher even as he undid three more buttons. “I can leave you to bathe and then I can return later when it’s darker.” He began to slide the garment off her body. “The only problem that poses is where I might take a bath.”

  “Oh,” she said again, turning to look at him.

  From this stance, behind her shoulder, he had an excellent view of her cleavage, pushed up by her corset, and he nearly groaned in need.

  But he kept the sound in. She was new to this and deserved his patience.