A Rescue by the Rakish Duke (A Game of Rakes #5)

Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-One

“ Y our Grace!” The butler was surprised to see her.

Gwendoline reached Damian’s residence on horseback. She had to remind herself that it was also her home—a home she was banished from. Pain shot through her as she remembered how she ended up traveling on her own in the first place.

She knocked. It felt strange to do so. More often than not, she and Damian would simply push the front door open. A servant would have already been alerted of their arrival.

“William, good day to you, too. I am exhausted from my long journey. Is Estella here?” she inquired, hoping to soak in a bath before talking to her husband.

She smelled like horse and sweat, and other things. It must be the smoke in Marston’s home.

“Your Grace, does His Grace know that you are here?” William asked, still looking a little bit alarmed.

“Oh, where is he, by the way?” she asked, taking off her cloak as she entered the townhouse.

The butler had no choice but to step back.

“He went to Greyvale to see you, Your Grace. At least that was what I was told. We were instructed to wait for your return.”

“Oh.”

So, they were expecting her, but not as early and not without Damian.

“Yes, Your Grace. I will tell Estella to draw you a bath then.”

“And a change of clothes. Breeches and a blouse, please,” she ordered.

William’s eyes widened at the mention of the clothing she planned to wear. But she needed something that would not restrict her movement.

She did not waste any time. Estella was bewildered by the speed at which she wanted to bathe and get dressed. Most ladies of the ton wanted to enjoy their baths, but Gwendoline didn’t have time for that. She had a criminal to catch, a gang to apprehend.

After dressing, she took a deep breath and informed the butler that she was leaving. She told him to inform Damian that she would be at the warehouse. All the carriages were in Greyvale at the moment, so she asked a servant to hail a cab for her.

Then, she was off. She promised the coachman a generous reward if he stopped a distance away from the warehouse and waited for her there.

When she alighted from the carriage, she tilted her chin up. She drew a deep breath to calm herself. This time, it wasn’t the crisp and fresh scent of Greyvale that she inhaled. The stench should have served as a warning, but she forged ahead until she reached the townhouse.

Gwendoline tried to stay hidden in the shadows, keeping her body close to the ground. She crept along the walls until she heard voices.

“Gentlemen, if things go well today, we will make a huge profit. We are meeting with a new associate today. He promises a hefty investment and merging his business with ours!” Timothy’s voice rang through the warehouse.

Gwendoline could sense the triumph in it, the self-assurance that he would get everything—have everything go his way regardless of what happened today. Suddenly, a chill came over her.

There were perhaps a dozen or so men in the warehouse, all of them Timothy’s allies. She was alone. Damian was in Greyvale. She had forgotten to ask about Evan.

Damian was right about her. She was a fool. It was all she could do not to slap her forehead. But someone else was willing to do it for her.

“Oh, what have we here?” a man asked, venom dripping from his voice as he dragged her out of her hiding place.

“Plump, blonde, and fancy?” another man interjected. “It must be Montrose’s cousin. The one who ran away with a duke.”

“It is her!” the first one declared triumphantly. “We are reaping more rewards today. Montrose will be happy to learn that we’ve caught the duchess!”

Gwendoline struggled, but their strength was too much for her. They dragged her until she was almost kneeling in front of the man she loathed the most in the world. She defiantly straightened up after the two men let go of her.

“Cousin!” Timothy exclaimed with undisguised glee, opening his arms wide as if he couldn’t wait to embrace her.

“Don’t come near me,” she said, shuddering.

“Oh, come now. You are such a brave little girl, aren’t you, Your Grace?” he asked mockingly, his face creased in a sneer. “Will you still be brave when I tell you that I can kill you for meddling in my business, just like I did with your father?”

Damian almost flew out of his carriage upon arriving at his townhouse. He asked William if Gwendoline had already arrived.

“Your Grace, she was here earlier. She took a bath. Then, she quickly changed into a blouse and breeches. She told me to tell you that she had an appointment at the warehouse.”

Damian’s eyes widened at the mention of the warehouse. He had even forgotten about the trap he had set for Montrose. He had been so consumed with thoughts of Gwendoline lying on the road or being held captive by Marston or Montrose that he was willing to give up his chance at his revenge.

He whirled around and jumped into the carriage as swiftly as he had leaped out of it.

“We are going to the warehouse. I know the horses are tired, but?—”

“We must save the duchess,” the coachman finished for him.

Damian could only nod and pray that his wife was not harmed and that he was not too late.

As they neared the warehouse, they spotted a carriage on the side of the road. Gwendoline must have hired one. However, he did not have time to inquire. He ran to the warehouse without any second thought for his well-being.

Inside, he saw Montrose manhandling Gwendoline. He rushed toward them, spotting out of the corner of his eye Evan and a few of his men blending in with Montrose’s gang.

He had known his friend would not fail him. He always had.

“Take your hands off her,” Damian growled. “Now!”

“One against many, and you are ordering me about? There will be more to come. I am meeting with someone who can make me even richer, Greyvale! I will be wealthier than you!” Montrose boasted.

“Don’t be so confident about that. Are you meeting the man at, uh, this very hour?” Damian asked.

Even though they were all in danger, he could not help but smirk. The bastard thought that he truly was speaking with another criminal.

At that point, Evan and his men pulled out their pistols and aimed them at Montrose’s henchmen, who had to raise their hands in surrender. Montrose pulled out his own pistol and aimed it at Damian’s face.

Damian didn’t even flinch. Instead, the move angered him even more. Montrose was aiming the weapon that he had hit his wife with.

“Try me, Montrose. Yes, you can. That’s a good boy, but you know you won’t make it out of here alive,” Damian taunted, distracting him a little and nodding at his wife.

Gwendoline stepped forward before Montrose could pull her against him. Then, she elbowed the bastard in the abdomen. Startled by the pain, the earl did not anticipate Damian rushing toward him to try to disarm him.

The two rolled on the ground. Gwendoline shrieked when Montrose tried to slam his pistol on Damian’s head. But Damian was determined and angry enough to squeeze Montrose’s wrist hard .

Just as the pistol fell to the ground, the constables stormed in. Damian and Evan had planned their trap well. They had the constables on standby to arrest Montrose and his henchmen once and for all.

As soon as Montrose was pulled off him, Damian fell back to the ground, breathing heavily.

It was over.