The Duke Meets His Match (The Infamous Somertons #3)(10)
Not on my watch, she won’t.
He grinned as he sipped his whisky. He hadn’t cared about anything in a long, long time. His evenings were filled with dread as he recalled the final battle and the sacrifice of his best friend—the sacrifice that had ensured Michael’s return home, and Henry’s father’s—the former Earl of Sefton’s—funeral.
But now, for the first time in over a year, Michael’s thoughts were occupied by the lady’s unexpected visit and the challenge shining in her exquisite sapphire eyes. He may not have planned on kissing her, but he didn’t regret it.
Chapter Four
The night had been a disaster.
Chloe entered the servants’ entrance of Huntingdon’s town house and slipped up the stairs into her bedchamber. Her trusted maid, Alice, was sitting on the edge of the four-poster waiting for her.
Alice jumped to her feet as soon as Chloe shut the door. “Thank heavens! What took you so long?”
“I was delayed. Did anyone suspect I left the house?”
“Not a soul. Your sister and Lord Huntingdon believe you went to bed early with a headache.” Alice placed a nightgown on the bed and set to work unfastening the buttons on the back of Chloe’s dress. “What did the duke say?”
Chloe took a breath. “He believes I’m a fraud. He warned me to stay away from Henry.”
Alice’s fingers stilled on the buttons. “Lord!”
Alice was near Chloe’s age. She had been born and raised in the rookeries, and Chloe had met her when she and her sisters had no choice but to stay in St. Giles after their father’s abandonment. Only Chloe knew that Alice had worked in the Seven Sins brothel, not as a prostitute, but as a kitchen maid. No matter how open-minded Eliza was regarding aiding the servants, Chloe didn’t think she would agree to keep Alice on if she knew the full truth.
Her maid brushed a stray lock of brown hair from her cap. “Did he say anything else?”
Chloe shook her head. She’d never confess the duke had done more than speak with her. His unexpected kiss had unsettled her more than she liked to admit, and she needed time alone to think.
“What will you do?” Alice helped Chloe step out of the dress and then began to untie her stays.
Once her corset was removed, Chloe took a deep breath and slipped into her nightgown. “Nothing. I don’t think the duke will say anything. Cameron wouldn’t want to upset Henry so soon after the death of his father.”
“Even if the duke tells Lord Sefton that you picked pockets, you should feel no guilt. You chose to survive. There is no fault in that. You are a good woman, Chloe Somerton. If it wasn’t for your kindness and compassion, I’d be rotting in a St. Giles’s alley by now.”
Tears stung Chloe’s eyes, and she embraced Alice. “Thank you, Alice.”
“Now. None of that. Get into bed,” Alice said as she pulled back the covers to tuck Chloe in for the night. She extinguished the lamp, then opened the door. “Sweet dreams, Miss Chloe.”
In the dark solitude of her room, Chloe thought about her maid’s words.
Kind. Compassionate. Good.
She felt a nauseating despair. She wasn’t so sure Alice was right. After all, Jonathan Miller’s tainted blood ran through her veins.
Soon her thoughts turned to the duke, and she tossed and turned in bed as vivid memories of the battle-hardened man returned in a rush. She’d visited Cameron’s mansion because she had been hoping to reason with him, to admit to her past misdeeds, and assure him that she hadn’t participated in any illegal activities in years. She’d embarked on a new life long ago. She had no intention of hurting Henry or reverting to her old ways. But the duke refused to believe her.
In his mind, she was a criminal—no better than her own father.
Maybe he’s right.
Her stomach tilted. All she wanted was what countless debutantes at Almack’s desired and what her own sisters had obtained. A title. Wealth. A wedding band.
Security.
But fate had dealt her a different hand of cards. Her sins were different from her sisters’. Worse. It didn’t matter how much they had needed funds in the past. It didn’t matter that they’d been desperate because of her—because she’d been sick. She had taken her crimes a step…or several steps…further than Eliza and Amelia.
Her heart fluttered behind her breast. Instead of reasoning with the duke, she was now in a precarious position. And then he’d kissed her.
Never in her wildest dreams had she thought the press of his hard lips against hers would make her heart leap. The unexpected sizzling heat was as dangerous as it was unwanted. For a brief moment, the rest of the world didn’t exist, just the arousing caress of his kiss. Tingles had rushed through her and swept over her skin. Only a faint voice of reason kept her from clinging to his broad shoulders and pressing against his hard body.
What had come over her?
He was dangerous. Not only did she feel a sweeping pull low in her stomach when he touched her, but he knew part of her deepest secrets. And he’d threatened to reveal them.
Bloody hell. Sleep would be elusive tonight.
…
The following morning, Chloe was still tired as she descended the grand staircase. Images of constables chasing her through the city streets had haunted her dreams. The nightmare wasn’t unusual but—for the first time—it had changed last night. The constable’s face took on the darkly handsome image of the Duke of Cameron. She’d woken, heart pounding, a sheen of perspiration on her forehead. It had taken several minutes for the vision to fade and reality to return.