The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(94)

“Likely story,” Ransom drawled, “and difficult to disprove since Black has gone missing.”

Panic flared, momentarily blocking out the pain. “What’s happened to Grandpapa?”

“I’m sorry to inform you, my dear, but he’s been missing since the day before yesterday. He and your father,” Ransom said gravely.

“Oh God.” She closed her eyes, dread washing through her. “My mama—”

“She is fine. From what I understand, your grandfather’s man Ming got her to safety. She’s staying with the Garritys…friends of your grandfather, I believe.”

“I must get back to London.” She focused on that purpose, on that hope. Her world may have fallen apart, but one thing did not change: she was a Black. “I must see to Mama, help in the search for Grandpapa and my father.”

“That is why I’m here, my dear. To aid you however I can,” Ransom said.

“Swift Nick, get in the carriage,” she said.

“Don’t go, Tessa.” Kent gripped her by the arm, his eyes blazing into hers. “It’s not safe. I don’t trust this bastard—”

“That’s rich,” she said bitterly. “You’ve been lying to me since the moment we met.”

“I know. And God, God, I wish for once that I had the right words.” His hold tightened on her. “That I knew how to tell you how sorry I am.”

She couldn’t take any more of this. Her emotions were already a seething morass.

“Just stay away from me,” she whispered. “Don’t come near me again. Now let me go.”

“You heard the lady. Let her go, or I’ll make you.” Ransom snapped his fingers, and three large footmen descended from his carriage.

“Listen to me, sprite.” Kent didn’t let her go, his features harsh with desperation. “I lied about my identity, but I never lied about my feelings. I love you.”

The words she’d longed to hear now shattered her heart. Because they meant nothing.

She meant nothing to him.

One of the footmen tore him away from her.

Kent backed away as the trio circled him. “Tessa, don’t go!”

She forced herself to turn away and walk to Ransom, who was waiting by the carriage door.

“You won’t hurt him?” she said quietly.

“I abhor violence.” The duke shuddered. “My men will restrain him so he can’t be a nuisance.”

She gave a dull nod and made to enter the carriage, but Ransom’s words stopped her.

“There is just one more matter, my dear. I believe your grandfather made known his desire for us to marry. As a man who understands the value of kinship,” he said, “I would consider it an honor to assist the family of my future bride.”

His intention was clear: in exchange for his help, he expected her to marry him.

At least he’s telling me what he really wants. He’s not lying to me with words of love.

Anger and despair tangled inside her. Really, what did it matter if she married him—or any other man? She was done with love, done with being lied to and made a fool of. At least with Ransom, she knew the bargain she was getting.

In the background, Harry Kent shouted something to her; she blocked him out.

“Whatever you wish,” she said flatly.

“You have made me the happiest of men.” Ransom’s teeth flashed white against his mustache and beard, and he handed her up into the carriage. “By the by, I went to the liberty of procuring a special license. We may be married upon our return to London.”





34





Harry awakened, disoriented by his blurry vision. Then he felt the hot pain lancing across his forehead, the throbbing of his left eye which, strangely, refused to open. He registered that he was gagged by a strip of fabric. He was on the ground, lying on his side. He couldn’t move his arms or legs; they were tightly trussed.

The memories blasted through him. Buried him in a darkness worse than that of the tunnel in which he’d almost died. Remorse suffocated him.

“Tessa,” he groaned against the cloth.

But she was gone. Gone because he’d lied to her, betrayed her…treated her no better than Celeste had treated him. The pain he’d seen in Tessa’s eyes made his own shut in self-disgust.

Why didn’t I trust her? Why did I lie to the woman I love?

In retrospect, he saw the strength of her love, knew that, if he’d only taken the risk and told her the truth earlier, she would have forgiven him. Instead, he’d been a coward. He realized, finally, that he hadn’t been protecting her—he’d been protecting himself. All along, he’d been falling in love with her and terrified of his own feelings. He’d been afraid of opening his heart completely, of exposing himself to the pain of a loss greater than any he’d experienced before.

Now she had left him, wanted nothing to do with him, and he bloody deserved it.

Even as despair swamped him, agonizing fear reared its head. Tessa was with Ransom, who was, at best, a fortune hunter. At worst, he could have a more sinister involvement in all of this. After all, how had the duke discovered Harry’s identity? How did he know that Harry was working for the police?

Harry’s gut clenched. If Ransom dared to harm even a hair on Tessa’s head…