Doubling Down on a Duke (Wagering on Love Book 5)
Chapter 1
At one time, even the thought of hiding in a closet would have terrified terrify Lady Helen, but that was no longer the case. At the ripe old age of six-and-twenty, she would do whatever it took to avoid her intended, even if she had to spend hours upon hours in a small, dark, confined space. Avoiding Bryce Barrington, the Duke of Whistlestop, had increasingly become a challenge over the past year, since the man had declared he was no longer willing to delay the reading of the banns after being formally betrothed for twenty years. The first fifteen years of their engagement had been rather uneventful; she’d lived as she pleased. Even during her debut season, Bryce maintained his distance and his rakish ways, but that all ceased the year she turned one-and-twenty and reached majority. It was also the year that Bryce became the Duke of Whistlestop. After years and years of rarely acknowledging one another in public, Bryce summoned her to his home and informed her that he had no intention of annulling their betrothal contract and that he fully expected them to marry and fulfill the promises made by their parents. It was no secret amongst the two families that their union had been born out of necessity to form an alliance to strengthen their status within the Network—a secret conglomerate of individuals who had sworn to support the Crown and its designated Protectors of the Royal Family, also referred to within the Network as PORFs. His decision to wait until she could legally marry whomever she pleased had left Helen in a dilemma for the past five years, which of course led to her employing all sorts of trickery in order to avoid making a decision. Torn between family duty and her dream to have a husband who loved her, Helen found herself yet again crouched in a small hall closet.
She rested her forehead on her bent knees. If only the blasted Duke of Whistlestop wasn’t so darn honest with her. If he simply pretended to be interested in her or employed his rakish charms on her and not half the ladies of the ton, she might have been able to convince herself she could be happy with the man, but over the past five years Bryce had made it abundantly clear that he had no intention of changing his roguish ways and he intended to marry her purely out of duty. She rubbed her chest to ease the constant ache that resided within her. Helen was certain if the late Earl of Saxton had known that the well-mannered and inordinately intelligent boy who would spend hour upon hour playing chess with him would grow up to be a devilishly handsome and renowned rake, her papa would never have agreed to the union. But her papa hadn’t lived long enough to witness Bryce Barrington transform from a quiet studious lad into the well-liked duke who everyone fawned over. Eyes closed, she pictured her intended—his wavy light brown hair had darkened and his adorable round face was long gone, replaced with defined cheekbones and jawline that women swooned over. The only things unchanged were Bryce’s striking blue-green eyes that made her own heart flutter when his angry, frustrated gaze fell upon her. And therein lay the real reason why she couldn’t marry the man. Only a fool would let herself fall in love with their fiancé, especially a fiancé who was purported by many a widowed lady to be not only be skilled but also generous in bed sport. While Helen didn’t fully understand, she didn’t doubt the validity of the rumor that had been repeated numerous times in the ladies retiring room. To date, her only saving grace had been the fact that other than immediate family members, no one was aware of her betrothal to the duke.
A deep sigh escaped her but the sound of booted footsteps approaching had her whole body tensing as she placed a hand over her nose and mouth. She quickly sent up a prayer not to be found.
Bryce’s distinct low baritone vibrated through the wood. “Shh! Tread lightly.”
She recognized the sound of a door latch clicking open and then closing. Who had Bryce been talking to? One of his paramours no doubt. He probably sought out privacy to once again prove his prowess in the bedroom. A wave of heat and anger rolled through her. She shouldn’t care what the man was up to. Many married men maintained mistresses; why wish for a loyal husband?
About to unfold and make a run for it, Helen stalled at the sound of a woman’s voice. “I doubt we shall find a lady as intelligent as Lady Helen in or near the private quarters of Redburn Manor. Every unwed woman knows how scandalous it would be to be found…” The woman’s whispers trailed off and Helen pressed her ear to the closet door.
Who was the woman on the other side and why was she aiding Bryce in his search?
She rolled back onto her heels and pressed her back against the solid wood behind her. Bryce had confided in his paramour. The ache in her chest deepened. It had always been a possibility that he would find another to care for and share his secrets with, but after all these years a small sliver of hope that it could be her had formed. Helen wiped the moisture from her eyes and counted to a hundred. She would visit Bryce in the morn and release him from his obligations, even if it meant she would have to flee across the pond to the Americas.