The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(14)

What do I care what Bennett thinks of me anyway? she thought resentfully. After tonight, I’ll never have to lay eyes on the interfering prig again.

“’Ow many times ’ave I told you, Tessie?” Grandpapa’s censorious tone riled her further. “You can’t be running about pell-mell through the streets. Ain’t safe, for one, and you’re a lady now, so best start acting like one.”

The unfairness of it all made her want to scream.

Instead, she went to her grandfather’s chair, crouching at his side and taking his hand. The way she’d done so many times as a girl. Back then, he’d listened to her. Indulged her. A tin of her favorite lemon drops, a miniature pony, a trip to Astley’s Amphitheatre: the world had been her oyster.

But the best times had been when he’d taken her with him to Nightingale’s, his favorite coffee house and the place where he conducted business. In between his meetings, he’d tell her tales of King Arthur and his knights. Of quests fulfilled or forsaken. Of honor and duty and unbreakable loyalty. People from the stews had come to seek his help and pay him homage, and she’d watched on with fierce pride.

Because Bartholomew Black was a king. And all she’d ever wanted was to be his trusted vassal. To sit by his side at the long table at Nightingale’s, helping him bring peace and order to his unruly kingdom. She might not possess the physical strength or sheer ruthlessness of his dukes, but she would offer up what she had: a clever mind and determined heart.

Since she’d entered womanhood, however, everything had changed.

Her grandfather no longer paid heed to her desires. He’d gone from being indulgent to critical. He’d forced her to attend the ghastly Mrs. Southbridge’s, to trade trousers for tight-laced corsets, to abandon her identity as a daughter of the stews in an effort to win over the snobs of the ton. Despite Tessa’s hurt and confusion, she’d done her best to please him…but enough was enough.

She would not be parted from the streets. From her world. From her home.

“I don’t want to be a lady,” she said with fierce urgency. “I want a place by your side, Grandpapa, to help you—especially now, when there are threats facing our family.” She darted a glance at Bennett, not wanting to say more about the assassination attempt on her grandfather in front of a stranger. “Why can’t you understand that?”

Why can’t you see that you need me? Why can’t you see…me?

“Time you faced facts, Tessie. If you were a man, things would be different. But you ain’t,” her grandfather said bluntly. “You’re a female, and you ain’t got no place in my world. If you want to help me, you get married to the nob I got picked out for you. Give me great-grandchildren. That’s your duty.”

Pain bled through her. A dagger in the chest would have hurt less.

“My biggest regret was that I was too soft on you, Tessie,” her grandfather went on heartlessly. “Let you run wild for far too long. No longer. From ’ere on in, you do as I say. You’re going to act like a lady. Like the future bride o’ the Duke of Ranelagh and Somerville.”

When her grandfather had first announced his plan to marry her off to the Duke of Ranelagh and Somerville, she’d thought he was making a poor jest. But he’d become increasingly adamant on the subject, and none of her arguments could sway him.

“The duke is a known rake,” she said desperately. “He’ll make a terrible husband!”

“All that matters is that ’e’ll keep you safe.”

“I don’t need him to keep me safe. I have you—”

“Won’t be around forever, Tessie, and won’t spend what time I got left arguing with you neither. Baroness von Friesing will be ’osting a supper for us, and ’Is Grace will be there. You’d best be prepared to make a good first impression.”

His casual reference to his own mortality churned her insides with dread. At the same time, his high-handedness made her furious.

“I will not marry some stupid duke and breed a high-nosed litter!” She raised her chin. “I belong here with you, with the people whose lives I make a difference in. You can’t force me to do anything I don’t want to do!”

“Won’t ’ave to. That’s Bennett’s job now.” Grandpapa’s smile was smug. “Meet your new bodyguard.”

“What?” She turned to Bennett, who’d risen when she had. “I don’t need another bodyguard!”

“’E’s your only one. ’Ad to let the other one go,” Grandpapa muttered. “Worthless git.”

“Your grandfather has your best interests in mind,” Bennett said. “You’d do well to abide by his wishes.”

As if her grandfather’s rejection wasn’t enough, now she was being lectured by this blighter? She’d credited Bennett with being an intelligent man, and he’d seen her in action this eve: her clever disguise, her duping of O’Toole, her agility in the stews’ streets. Yet he still believed her to be a bored miss in search of diversion? Some useless ninny who needed a keeper?

Her rage and despair found a fresh target.

“How much is my grandfather paying you?” she said acidly.

“None o’ your business, Tessie,” Grandpapa cut in.

She ignored him. “How much?”