Trapped with the Duke of Winter (Dukes & Meddling Dowagers #2)

Chapter 1

“And then the princess discovered a secret garden behind the castle walls, where roses bloomed even in winter.”

Louise closed the worn storybook and smiled at her sister, Emily, whose green eyes sparkled with wonder despite having heard this tale countless times before.

The parlor of Sulton House felt almost warm this January afternoon, although frost still etched patterns across the windows and their meager fire barely fought back the chill seeping through the walls.

“Do you think we have a secret garden?” Emily asked, tucking her small feet beneath her on the threadbare settee. “Perhaps George forgot to tell us about it.”

Louise smoothed a copper curl from her sister’s forehead, her chest tightening at the mention of their absent brother.

“If we do, it’s very well hidden. But I suspect even magical roses would struggle in this cold,” she told her.

“When will George come home?” Emily’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might summon something unpleasant.

“Soon, darling.”

The lie came easily now, practiced over the past week since George had vanished without a word or a note.

Louise pulled her woolen shawl tighter around her shoulders. “Shall we read another story? We still have an hour before—”

The front door of the townhouse crashed open with such violence that the parlor windows rattled in their frames.

Heavy footsteps thundered through the entrance hall. Emily’s face drained of color as she pressed closer to Louise, the storybook tumbling forgotten to the floor.

“Stay back,” Louise murmured, even though her own heart hammered against her ribs.

She rose from the settee just as three men filled the parlor doorway.

The first man commanded immediate attention despite his unremarkable height.

He moved with the calculated ease of a predator certain of its prey.

His clothes spoke of money but not breeding.

The cut of his coat too flashy, and his gold watch chain too thick.

Behind him loomed two brutes whose scarred knuckles and broken noses told their own stories.

Louise stepped forward, placing herself between these men and Emily. “Emily, go upstairs to Mrs. Fielding.”

“But Louise—”

“Now, please.”

The child hesitated, her small fingers clutching Louise’s skirt.

“Let the girl go.” The man’s voice carried the false courtesy of someone who enjoyed wielding fear. “We’re civilized people here. Aren’t we, Lady Louise?”

One of the brutes shifted aside just enough to allow passage. Emily fled, her footsteps echoing up the stairs, followed by Mrs. Fielding’s startled exclamation. A door slammed somewhere above.

Only then did Louise allow herself to breathe.

“Who are you?” She kept her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “And what gives you the right to force your way into my home?”

The man smiled, revealing teeth too white against his ruddy complexion. “Forgive me. Where are my manners?” He offered a mocking bow. “Silas Bragg, at your service. I’m a man of business, Lady Louise. And your brother owes my business eight thousand pounds.”

“My brother isn’t here,” Louise said once she heard Emily safely away. “I haven’t seen him for over a week.”

“Yes, so your servants mentioned, before we encouraged them to take a brief respite in the cellar.” Bragg strolled further into the room, examining the faded wallpaper and the empty spots where paintings once hung. “Quite a fall from grace, isn’t it? The mighty Marquess of Sulton, reduced to this.”

“If you’ve come for payment, you’ve wasted your trip. What little money remains barely covers food and coal.”

“Money?” Bragg settled into George’s chair by the fireplace without invitation. “My dear lady, if I believed money would solve this problem, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Louise forced herself to remain still, even though every instinct screamed at her to run. “Then what do you want?”

“Your brother has proven himself remarkably adept at disappearing. First from his debts, now from London itself. It’s almost admirable, really.” Bragg pulled out a silver case and extracted a cigar. “May I?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

He lit it anyway, the smoke curling between them like a threat made visible.

“Here’s what troubles me, Lady Louise,” he said as he puffed out a cloud of smoke, “Men who run will stay hidden, unless properly motivated to return. Your brother needs motivation.”

Louise forced her breath to remain slow, to somehow soothe the rapid pace of her pulse. “I do not know where he is.”

“Oh, I believe you, my dear.” The admission surprised her until he continued. “Which is why you’re going to help me with a different problem entirely.”

Louise’s stomach turned to lead. “I don’t understand.”

“The Duke of Calborough.” Bragg spoke the name like he was savoring fine wine. “Do you know him?”

“Only by reputation.”

“Ah, reputation.” Bragg’s smile revealed teeth too white, too sharp.

“His reputation once cost me a considerable investment. A gaming establishment I operated under a … different name. The good Duke took it upon himself to expose certain irregularities to the authorities. It cost me my license, my standing, and a fortune in potential profits.”

The larger of Bragg’s men shifted position, blocking the door completely.

Louise felt the walls closing in, but willed words to come out. “That has nothing to do with me or my family.”

“Not yet.” Bragg stood, moving closer slowly, lazily. “But it could. You see, rumor has it that the Duke has a weakness for beautiful women. And you, my dear, are going to help me exploit that weakness.”

Louise took an involuntary step back. “You’re mad if you think—”

“I think you’ll do exactly as I say.” His voice dropped to barely above a whisper, somehow more terrifying than a shout.

“Tomorrow night, there’s a private gathering at White’s.

Certain rooms, shall we say, are set aside for more intimate entertainment.

You’ll be there. You’ll ensure the Duke is compromised.

And I’ll ensure the moment is properly documented for future use. ”

“No.” The word came out stronger than she felt. “I won’t be your pawn in some revenge scheme. I won’t sell my virtue for—”

“Won’t you?” Bragg glanced toward the ceiling, where Emily’s footsteps could be heard pacing overhead. “Your sister is what, six years old? Seven?”

Ice flooded Louise’s veins. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I? Children are surprisingly adaptable. Workhouses, factories, and other less savory establishments. They make themselves quite useful when there’s nowhere to turn.” He gave an evil grin at her strangled gasp.

The room spun. Louise gripped the back of the settee to keep from falling. “You monster.”

“I’m a businessman, Lady Louise. Your brother understood that when he signed my papers.

He borrowed eight thousand pounds. Did he mention that?

No, I thought not.” Bragg moved toward the door, his men falling in behind him.

“Tomorrow night. My carriage will collect you at eleven sharp. Wear something … memorable.”

“And if I refuse?”

He paused in the doorway, not bothering to turn around. “Then I’ll return for your sister instead. She’s young enough to forget she ever had a different life. Eventually.”

Fiend. Villain. Abomination, she wanted to spit at him.

Yet she couldn’t risk Emily. She had no time to consider alternatives, no other choice.

For Emily’s sake, she told herself.

“You have my word. Tomorrow night,” she replied, her fingernails digging into her palms

“Excellent. Oh, and Lady Louise?” Now he did turn, his expression almost paternal. “Do not try anything foolish. I have eyes throughout London. If you try to run, if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will know. And little Emily will pay the price.”

The front door slammed behind them with finality.

Louise’s knees gave way. She sank onto the settee, her whole body trembling.

Eight thousand pounds. How could George have been so catastrophically foolish?

“Louise?” Emily’s voice drifted down from the landing. “Are the bad men gone?”

“Yes, darling,” she cleared her throat. “Stay with Mrs. Fielding a moment longer.”

Louise pressed her palms against her eyes, trying to think past the panic clawing at her throat.

She had no one to turn to. Their solicitor had abandoned them months ago when the money ran out. Their remaining friends had gradually disappeared as their circumstances declined. And George …

George had left them to face this alone.

Tomorrow night.

She climbed the stairs on unsteady legs and forced her expression into something resembling calm before entering Emily’s room. Her sister sat on the bed with her arms wrapped around her knees, while Mrs. Fielding hovered nearby, wringing her hands.

“Those men won’t hurt us, will they?” Emily’s question carried a fear no six-year-old should feel.

Louise sat beside her, pulling the child into her arms. Emily smelled of lavender soap, and her eyes sparkled with innocence, and Louise would do anything to protect that.

“No, my darling. I won’t let them.”

Mrs. Fielding caught Louise’s eye over Emily’s head, her expression grave. They’d been through enough together these past months for the housekeeper to read the truth Louise couldn’t speak aloud.

“Shall I prepare some tea, my lady? And some milk, for Lady Emily?” Mrs. Fielding asked carefully.

“Please. And perhaps check on the others below? They … I was told they are in the cellar.”

The housekeeper’s mouth tightened, but she bobbed a curtsy and left them alone.

“Louise?” Emily pulled back to study her sister’s face with those too-perceptive eyes. “You look sad.”

“I’m not sad. Just thinking.”

“About George?”

“Among other things.”

Emily was quiet for a moment, then asked in a small voice, “Are we going to lose our home?”

The question pierced Louise’s heart. How many times had this child overheard conversations not meant for her ears? How many worries had she been carrying in secret?