The Duke of Sin (Rakes and Roses #1)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

FEbrUARY 1816, LONDON, SOHO.

T he plan was madcap… but Alice Winslow had decided to follow through with it anyway; she had to, no one else was in the position to get justice for her sister.

Plucking the slip of paper from her reticule with a trembling hand, she read, “ The Vipers Pit .”

It was a gambling den owned by Lord Rutledge; a tall, bright blond-haired gentleman with the face of Apollo, blessed with high cheekbones, squared jaw, full lips… and the tongue of the Serpent who had tempted Eve.

He was a known rake, but in the last few months, he had spun a spiel of love and affection for Alice’s sister, Penelope—and after two months and a day of ‘courtship’, he had seduced her into bed, taking the one thing a lady of her stature could bargain with—her innocence, before disappearing.

Alice was determined to get him to do the right thing and marry her, otherwise her sister’s spinsterhood fate was sealed.

When the hackney stopped, she paid the indifferent driver, and while her heart thumped up a storm under her breastbone, she approached the marble steps of the club. As she glanced around through the fog-shrouded night, her body felt incredibly alive, every sense feeling somehow sharper.

It was late, almost midnight, as she headed toward the large door, and knocked before she fixed her mask and the silk cowl over her head.

She had carefully chosen this night, the masquerade night, for two purposes. To blend in with the rest of the patrons, and to hide her identity should anyone familiar with her family see her.

Thank the heavens that I know how to sew.

Her mask was passable, a lace and feathered disguise large enough to cover most of her face, while the white cloak lent the image of a dove.

“ Penelope, dear sister, I am doing this for you…” she whispered as the door opened and a footman looked down on her.

“Invitation?”

“I was invited by Lord Rutledge,” she said boldly.

“ Everyone inside here was invited by him,” the footman said languidly. “If you cannot tell me the—”

“Scarlett parlor,” she blurted. After weeks—no, almost a month of fervent digging and speaking to people she had risked her life to converse with, she’d uncovered a code into the man’s den of vices. “T-that is what he told me to say.”

Her ploy must have succeeded for the impatient gleam left the man’s eyes and was replaced by one of... interest? “You are for that parlor, hm? Well, come in then.”

First barrier breached.

The door swung open and with relief, she stepped into a lavish front parlor that simmered with sinful decadence; it was a place any proper miss would skirt with a mile much less step inside.

She looked around as if in a daze and felt oddly off-balance, well aware she would have been wise to avoid such a wicked place. She had to find the lord, and quickly. She turned in place to see through the melee of men and women parading past.

The interior was luxurious, rich red and black carpets covered the floor, and swaths of red and golden drapes twined themselves around massive white Corinthian columns.

A scattering of tables was placed in an organized sprawl on this lower floor, and many lords and ladies sat around them, cradling drinks in their hands, some lords with cigars between their lips.

Dice clattered as they rolled on the tables while young men shuffled, flicked, and cut cards with artistic expertise.

“A thousand pounds, my lord?” one of the men asked.

The man in question rolled his drink, then looked to the lady beside him parading a fortune of jewels at her ears and throat. “Make it three.”

Abject disgust at the waste of money made her stomach roil; to her, fifty pounds was a fortune , three thousand would make someone comfortable for a year, even two.

“ Where do I find you, lord snake? ” she asked herself.

Looking up, she saw a jutting balcony above, and lo’ and behold, the very man she was searching for was leaning on the railing, looking down like a king over his court. Two women came to either side of him, one teasing him with a glacé cherry while the other stroked down his chest.

Glancing around for a staircase, she crossed the floor and hurried up while hoping the man would be in the same place when she got to the floor above. And she arrived there just in time to see him round a corner with the two ladies on either arm.

She made to go after him when a strong arm grabbed hers and towed her away. Her head snapped to the side, “What? Who are you! W-what are you doing to me?”

“The doorman said you were for the Scarlett Parlor,” the footman remarked, “And that is where I am taking you.”

Panic set into her heart. “No, no, you don’t understand, I must find Lord Rutledge, I- I have to—”

“You have to do as you were contracted,” he murmured. “The guests are waiting for your… expertise.”

“No, stop, please, I need to see Lord Rutledge!” She tried to yank her arm away, but his grip only tightened.

He yanked her down corridor steps and down a narrow passage, and no matter how she struggled, he dragged her down to the bottom where thick incense swirled around the room.

Giggles met her ears, and she saw women clad in gauzy nothings paraded around the room, serving men drinks. In the shadowed nooks, she saw bodies undulating, and fear rammed right into her head.

“Please let me go,” she whispered, fearing the worst. “I—I misspoke, I meant—”

Someone stepped in front of them, a tall someone, his face shrouded in shadow. “She’s coming with me.”

“I have my orders, she is—”

“Coming, with me ,” the man muttered, emerging from the gloom. His sharp gray eyes behind his black demi-mask were as lethal as piercing steel; his jaw looked tougher than basalt. “Or would you deny a Duke what he desires? Is not the reason for this room to allow any man the desires he seeks?”

The tight grip around her forearm lessened. “Your Grace, I—”

“I have given you my order. Let her go,” he growled. “She is mine for the night.”

With little say in the matter, the man dropped his hand and bowed. “My apologies, Duke Valhaven.”

When the footman left, she pressed a hand to her chest, relief washing through her like a flood, but her pulse raced again when Duke Valhaven’s eyes landed on hers.

With an unsteady feeling, she watched the play of light and shadow over his chiseled features as he tilted his head. He stared at her the way an auctioneer appraised a strange ornament. The clean structure of his broad cheekbones and square jaw was offset by the tiny scar slanting through his left eyebrow.

“You are a very far way from home, little mouse ,” he finally murmured. “Why are you here?”

As grateful as she was to be rescued from an unsavory fate, she could not be distracted, even by a man as devilishly handsome as this. “…I must speak to Lord Rutledge. Please, it is urgent.”

“Why?” His calmness irked her.

Every moment she stayed with him, Rutledge was slipping further and further away. She notched her head up. “He is a dastardly scoundrel who ruined a woman near and dear to my heart. I must have him marry her if she has any possible way of avoiding being cast as a fallen woman and shoved into ignominy.”

His lips twitched. “Your plan was doomed from the inception. You might have a better hope of fetching a hunk of cheese from the moon, mouse, than convincing Rutledge he must marry one of his conquests. A seducer is as liable to change his ways as a leopard is to change his spots.

“They find a woman who poses a challenge, they wheedle and cajole, and spin their web of lies to draw an innocent into their path. When he’s gotten what he wants, he moves on with nary a look over his shoulder.”

Alice’s heart fell to her feet. “No, no… surely there must be a way,” she held back an aggrieved cry. “He must pay.”

“I doubt you will sway him,” his mocking drawl exasperated her. “He’ll laugh in your face.”

“I’ll hold a pistol to his head if I must,” Alice swore. “He must do the right thing.”

“He won’t.”

“He must .” She felt flustered and spun around, as if the man in question was behind her and she could tell him her demand… or fall to his feet and beg. “I—I cannot leave here without speaking to him. Where did he go?”

“He is in a place where, if you enter, your innocence will be ripped from you and your delicate sensibilities,” the Duke replied. “I assure you, you do not want to look behind that door.”

Alice felt the need to sit, and the moment the room began to swim, and her knees buckled, a strong hand grasped her and steadied her. “Easy, mouse. You do not want to collapse here.”

She began to fear all her careful planning was now for naught, how she had followed Rutledge’s steps for weeks, how she had cajoled her aunt and her cousin to go and visit their friend in the countryside this very night—while her uncle was away at Oxford on business—just so she could be free to slip out to London.

All this work… for nothing .

The poor girl is about to faint.

Did she know where she was?

The moment he had seen her being dragged away, Edward had known he had to get to her, or she would not survive the night, certainly not where the footman was taking her. She could not have looked more of an outsider—even while in costume—if she tried.

Edward, as cynical, jaundiced, and disillusioned as he was, felt amused that this little Miss thought she could sway Roderick Hammond to give up his roaming ways to marry a woman—one of many he had ruined—and domesticate himself.

Holding her firm, he had to moderate his grip; she was so petite that she looked like a porcelain doll, and wrapped in all that white, more a cherubic one.

The satin mask molded to her delicate bone structure, her lips were rosy and plump, and while it was too dim for him to see the color of her eyes—the light came from behind her, not over him—he could tell they were some shade of blue.

They are fringed by the longest lashes I have ever seen.

Over her shoulder, he noticed two footmen and the club manager were on the floor searching—presumably—for this girl. Before he knew what he was doing, he’d backed her into a nook, and with one arm still locked around her waist, his free hand tilted her head so that it appeared as though they were kissing.

“ Play along ,” he whispered.

There was a grim warning in his tone, and Edward hoped she would get it—quickly, that she was being hunted and that she needed to be playing this part if she wished to get out of here unscathed.

He concealed her body as much as he could, knowing that after the men passed by, he had a limited time to get her out of the club and back to her home.

Her breath was coming hard and fast in his cheek now. Curious, his eyes narrowed on hers. “Why are you afraid?”

“This…” she swallowed “…is the closest I have been to a man.”

“I would wager you have never been kissed either,” he breathed, eyes gliding over her face, and when her cheeks pinked, something stirred in his chest— interest .

It had been a long time since he had felt such a visceral urge, but damn did it come at the worst moment. He cupped her soft cheek, his thumb coasting over the bridge of her nose. A tremor ran through her at the feel of his thumb so close to her lips. “Si…Sir!”

“It has been a long time since I’ve had the urge to kiss a woman,” he murmured darkly. “Especially one as untrained as you… but alas, it is not meant to be.”

His senses were turned toward the men passing by and when they did, he pulled her cowl over. “We need to leave here. Now. Keep your head down and do not make eye-contact with anyone.”

With his hand protectively on her head, he walked with her down the stairs and through the mingling masses gambling ancient fortunes away, skirting eagle-eyed footmen and ignoring lords who smirked at him, thinking, clearly, that he was going home with another conquest.

“We are almost there,” he uttered eventually, “Do you have a hackney home?”

“…No.”

Clearly, she had not thought this plan through in its entirety. Na?ve little mouse.

“I’ll find you one,” he said as they passed through the brilliant circular marble foyer. He didn’t look over his shoulder to the two stories arching over them, much less the basement where the apex of depravity—gaming, drink, and whores—was in true effect.

She came here to find Rutledge but found me. What will she think knowing I partly own this club? Surely, she’ll think I am just as wicked as he.

The night sky blazed with stars as he drew her close, unwilling to let her go so soon as he guided her down the lane to the waiting hackneys. Halfway there, she paused to suck in a breath.

With her hand pressed on her breast, he cocked his head and peered at her before reaching to touch her mask. Instantly, she pulled away, “No, do not touch that; the mask stays on.”

His fingers brushed the lace longingly. “You know who I am… but what is your name?”

She seemed to think for a moment. Perhaps deciding upon whether to conjure up a lie. But then her gaze settled on his again, and she whispered, “Alice… Alice Winslow.”

“Well, my dear Alice Winslow , the Duke of Valhaven at your service. Though I’d prefer if you called me by my name, Edward .”

They headed for the line of hackney’s, and upon finding a driver who did not look a shady character, Edward called out, “You there, are you for hire?”

The driver jerked awake, and blinking fast, sat up and fixed his hat. “Y-yes, Sir. I am. What do you need?”

“I need you to take a friend of mine home.”

“And where is that, good Sir?”

“Grosvenor Square,” Alice replied.

The driver tipped his cap. “Get on in.”

Before he pressed a coin into the driver’s hand, he turned to her. “…If you must know, when I said I wanted to kiss you, I wouldn’t have pounced. I was about to ask for permission.”

She sucked in a sharp breath. “I will not allow my first kiss to be with a man like you.”

“A man like me?”

“Men like you who take what you want and move on,” she stated bluntly. “Rakes and seducers of innocents, who take what they want without any thoughts or consequences for the ladies they leave behind. I came here to bring a rake to task, not to fall into the bed of one. Your request would have been denied.”

“Such a pity.” He let his hand fall to the small of her back. “It would have been delightful.”

“Perhaps for yourself.”

“Before you leave, may I ask you one final question, Miss Alice?”

Her brows rose at his sudden sincerity. “I… I do owe you very much, I suppose, so, yes, you may ask me whatever you would like. I am at your disposal more than I ought to be.”

“Is your day tomorrow one where you wrap some schoolgirls’ knuckles with a ruler or is it that you lounge away the day, eating bon-bons and sipping mint juleps?”

She lifted her head, puzzled. “Neither. Tomorrow, I will return to my normal life of solitude and seclusion.”

“I… see,” he stepped back and almost merged with the darkness. “Have a safe journey home then. And who knows, we might see each other again.”

Her lips ticked down, wordlessly saying, I highly doubt it.

“Good night, Your Grace,” she smiled thinly.

The carriage rode off and soon vanished into the night but Edward knew her face would never fade from his mind.

While heading back to his carriage instead of returning to the den, he gripped the passenger door a touch more firmly than he ought, then looked over his shoulder. “ Don’t fret, little mouse. We shall see each other again, very soon .”