The Duke’s Carriage Window (The Rogues of Devil’s Square #2)

Chapter 1

Meredith Montague’s heart was breaking.

She held her Uncle Benjamin’s hand as she watched his chest rise and fall in shallow breaths. All was quiet in the bedchamber of Burton House, the residence that she’d called home for the last five years. Dusk had settled in over the wild gardens beyond the windows of her uncle’s room.

She had seen death before, with her mother when she’d been fourteen.

But even now, at nineteen, she was still not used to the creeping, foreboding presence of the end.

It was not frightening, but it filled her with a quiet, choking despair.

She couldn’t stop death, not even to save someone she loved.

“Meredith,” her uncle rasped. “There’s a letter in the top drawer of my desk… in my study. You must take it to my nephew in London.”

“Your nephew?”

“Yes… Darius, the son of my elder brother. He is the Duke of Tiverton.”

Meredith had heard about Darius a few times, but Uncle Ben was a very quiet, reserved man when it came to his family. He had been close with his elder brother and had not taken his death well. It had broken her uncle, just as surely as his death would break Meredith.

Uncle Ben’s blue eyes were still clear enough that she saw he was making every effort to convey the importance of the matter.

“Darius is a good man… I’ve asked him to take care of you, as I have done… I have asked him… to find you a husband.”

Her uncle coughed, and she went to fetch a glass of water for him. He lay back in his bed with a heavy sigh. She didn’t want to upset her uncle, but she had to understand what he intended for her.

“Darius… Darius must take me in? I cannot stay here?”

She wanted to stay at Burton House with its sunny rooms and splendid old white and blue china teacups, and the comfort of the quiet world here did not frighten her. This was her home. Uncle Ben was her home.

“We both know you cannot stay. I have left a provision in my will that Harry must provide you with travel money. But Harry… makes rash decisions. He will not handle the money and land well… But you… I can protect you in the way I cannot protect this house…and sending you to Darius will protect you.”

Harry, Uncle Ben’s only child, was a wild, reckless gentleman that Meredith didn’t trust, or like. He was the sort of man to kick a dog when the poor beast got in his way.

“I understand,” Meredith said softly.

“You can trust Darius, my dear…” Uncle Ben closed his eyes. “Go… find the letter now and I will rest.”

She didn’t want to leave him. Part of her feared that if she stepped outside his bedchamber, he would slip away without her having a chance to say goodbye.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Go on now, Meredith. I promise to be here when you return.”

It took every bit of Meredith’s strength to let go of her uncle’s hand. She paused at the door to look back at the kind, old man asleep on the bed. His illness had ravished his once handsome looks. This man had been a father to her more than uncle.

But in truth, he wasn’t even her uncle. Not by blood.

Her mother Mariah had once been in love with Uncle Ben, but she had chosen another man in the end.

Her mother had lived for only a few years with the man who had sired Meredith.

She couldn’t even remember what he looked like, only that he had left them penniless when he’d returned to his wife and then he’d died shortly after.

Uncle Ben, newly widowed himself, had taken pity on them and paid for a cottage by the sea near Fraisthorpe Beach on the eastern coast of England, not far from the village of Burton Agnes.

When her mother had died, Uncle Ben had moved Meredith into his home. The last five years had healed her and given her new life and peace. For a time, it had been the same for Uncle Ben, until the illness struck him down.

Now she was to lose her uncle and the peaceful life they had shared in this lovely, old house.

There were to be no more morning rides across the estate, no more long walks to the village for midday luncheons.

No more visits to the tiny bookshop to buy books that she and Uncle Ben would read and discuss over dinner.

Her mind played over a thousand things that would come to an end once he was gone.

It was as though her own life was ending, and it was.

This version of herself, the Meredith of Burton Agnes, would be gone forever.

She would become someone new, a woman living in London with a stranger, a duke no less.

The idea was terrifying. This duke would have no time for her and certainly no need of her.

He would have his gentleman friends, likely a wife, perhaps even a mistress.

Uncle Ben had never mentioned Darius being married, but he so rarely spoke of his nephew except to express regret at some terrible quarrel they’d had a few years ago.

Surely, being saddled with her would upset any decent man.

Despite her uncle’s assurances, she couldn’t envision a future where her very presence wouldn’t outrage a powerful, influential duke.

She was a bastard, a nobody. He would dump her onto the first free man he could convince to marry her, wouldn’t he?

Meredith’s chest tightened with a fierce ache and she swallowed hard.

She drew in a deep breath, trying to still her racing heart. She didn’t want to end up like her mother. She would find a way to save herself. Choosing the wrong man, the wrong life, and having it end all too soon. She wouldn’t let that happen.

“Miss Meredith?” A soft voice disrupted Meredith’s thoughts. She turned away from the bedroom and found Mrs. Todd, the housekeeper, standing beside her. She hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Good evening, Mrs. Todd,” she greeted wearily, and hoped she wouldn’t burst into tears again. The poor woman had been Meredith’s only shoulder to cry on since Uncle Ben’s health had taken such a steep turn for the worse.

Mrs. Todd sent a worried glance toward Uncle Ben’s closed door. “Is he…gone?”

“No, he is sleeping. I am to retrieve a letter from his study. Will you watch him for me?”

“Of course, dear.” Mrs. Todd entered the bedchamber and sat in the chair that Meredith had just vacated.

With the assurance that her uncle was not alone, Meredith went downstairs to her uncle’s study. The room smelled of tobacco and old books, two scents she’d come to cherish for the warm memories they created. Shelves full of so many wonderful stories made the room cozy despite its enormous size.

The desk was covered with a mess of papers, but Meredith ignored it and opened the drawers.

After a bit of searching, she found what she was looking for.

A letter bearing the Duke of Tiverton’s name and address in London.

She tucked the letter into the pockets of her skirts before she exited the study.

As she moved to close the door behind her, she bumped into someone.

“Oh! I’m terribly sorry I—” She gasped as a large hand closed around her waist as she turned around.

“What were you doing in my father’s study, Merry?” The nickname grated on her ears.

Harry St. John stood in front of her. He was dressed fashionably in striped trousers and an overflowing style of cravat that matched his carefully coiffed hairstyle.

If she were honest, Meredith thought it all made him look very silly.

He was a decently handsome man with dark hair and eyes, but it was those same eyes which reminded her to never trust him.

They were locked on her with an upsetting intensity.

With a careful slide of her hips, she dislodged his hand from her body. “I was just seeing to something for Uncle Ben.” She didn’t mention the letter. She didn’t trust Harry.

“Oh? May I help?” He sounded sincere, but Meredith didn’t trust the sharp look in his dark eyes.

“No, no thank you, Harry. I’ve seen to it already. When did you arrive?”

“Just now. I received a letter from the butler a week ago saying my father was unwell.” Harry gave her a pointed look.

She hadn’t written him with the news, but the butler had.

Clearly, that fact displeased him. But Uncle Ben had not wished for Harry to be here and had told her not to write to him.

Meredith wasn’t about to cower before Harry for doing what Uncle Ben had asked, no matter how much she bristled at his unspoken accusation.

“Have you seen him yet?” Meredith asked, knowing he had not, but she tried to distract Harry, who was moving his hand toward her hip again.

“I will, when I am ready,” Harry replied. “First, I believe we have things to discuss.”

“We do?” she asked, clueless as to what he thought they would need to talk about.

“Yes.” Harry opened his father’s study door and ushered her back into the room. He closed the door behind him and remained in front of it, blocking her way out.

“My father has paid for your upkeep since you were a child. First with your mother at that little cottage, and now here.”

Meredith didn’t argue, but wondered where this was going.

“Once my father is gone, you will become my responsibility.” Harry leaned back against the closed door. “I will be quite content to allow you to continue living here, of course. But I require something in return to justify the expense of your lodgings and meals.”

“Oh Harry, I couldn’t stay. I—”

He cut her off. “I understand that you were a pleasant companion for my father. You could be a companion to me as well. Of course, I would require things from you that my father did not.” He caught her wrist, jerking her toward him. “I am so very lonely, you see.”

To her surprise and utter horror, Harry tried to kiss her. She only just managed to pull back enough to avoid his lunge. “Harry!” She almost shouted his name as she shoved against him with her free hand. “Let me go once. Please!”

Harry’s eyes darkened and his grip on her wrist tightened.