A Duke Is Always Wicked

Chapter One

Chapter One

London, 1816

Popular Gaming Establishment, The Devil’s Lair

“You seem distracted tonight, mon amour. Do I not please you?”

Benedict Kingston shook his head a bit to clear the fog that had settled there and leaned in a bit closer to the lady sitting on his lap intending to feather kisses along her neck to make up for his lack of attention, but after having to push aside the many feathers she wore across the top of her nearly nonexistent bodice, and got a whiff of her overly oppressive flowery perfume, he decided that tonight would not be the night to take Anabella Blanchet to his bed. He prided himself on perfection, and tonight he simply would not be giving the lady his best.

“Anabella, I’m afraid the rigors of the day have me over-tired. Perhaps another time.” He traced the skin along her arm and smiled when her lips pouted prettily. There was no doubt Anabella knew how to please a man, and he was certain that she wouldn’t leave the Lair to go home alone. There would be another man waiting to sample her charms, there always was.

Anabella moved to straddle him as he sat in the chair. Her bosom bouncing nicely as she adjusted herself. She was a temptress. “Ah, mon chou, but I can make you forget about your troubles.” Her voice was sultry, and her moves practiced. She leaned in closer allowing him a generous view of her breasts, which wasn’t all that difficult considering her bodice did little to cover them in the first place. Her fingers traced over his ear as she began untying his cravat. Her warm breath fanning over his throat as she whispered, “Fais moi l’mour, darling.”

Under normal circumstances, he might have taken her up on her offer to make love to her, but tonight she was becoming more of an annoyance than an enticement. He gripped her waist with both hands and lifted her off his lap.

“Take a bit of advice from a man who knows more about seduction than most and what men crave in a woman, you are trying much too hard.”

He watched as her eyes narrowed into angry slits and her lips pursed in outrage. “You are a bastard, monsieur.”

Kingston’s grin transformed into something more feral. “That’s another thing, love. You and I both know you aren’t French. Hell, all of London knows you are not French. Your accent is almost as bad as that little black mole you paint on the edge of your lips.”

The sharp crack of her hand against his cheek was loud enough to be heard in the gaming rooms upstairs, but he would not give her the satisfaction of a reaction. “I believe you know the way out.”

Anabella’s cheeks were red and blotchy now as she stood before him fuming with rage. “I hope you die old and alone with rats feeding upon your cold black heart.”

Kingston rolled his eyes as he walked toward the door. “Now we can add overly dramatic to your list of attributes, Annabella.” He opened the door and stood to the side hoping she would leave without causing any more unnecessary drama.

His smile widened as she stomped from the room, her skirts swishing past him, while she spouted even more vile curses from her lips. He sighed heavily, glad to be rid of her histrionics, and was about to close the door when he saw Sam standing across the hall. “Can this wait till tomorrow, Sam? It’s late and after spending most of the evening entertaining the prince, I just want to get some rest.”

He watched as his second in command shuffled his feet nervously and looked down awkwardly. “I’m not certain this can wait. There is a lady to see you.”

He dropped his arms to the side and threw back his head in annoyance. “Bloody hell, another one?! Do the ladies in London have nothing better to do than to see whose bed they can crawl into?”

Sam cleared his throat loudly and swallowed hard before placing a hand over his eyes as a cloaked figure stepped from behind him.

“I’m not here to warm your bed, Mr. Kingston.”

Her cultured voice alone was enough to bring his cock to attention, it was soft and soothing, unlike many of the women he encountered, but when she lowered the hood that obscured her face, he was taken aback. She had the face of an angel, well, a very severe and angry angel. She took a step forward. The tilt of her chin and the way she moved, spine straight, head up, the way her eyes met his unafraid, confirmed that she was indeed a refined lady of some prominence or means.

“And that statement, my dear, is the biggest disappointment I have had in some time.”

The angel before him didn’t even crack a smile. “Might I have a word with you or not?”

Kingston glanced over to Sam before looking back to the lady before him. “Certainly, if you will come inside and have a seat, I will be with you momentarily.”

He stepped aside as the lady gracefully sailed past him and he had the opportunity to get a closer look at her. Her deep blue eyes were framed with long dark lashes, her skin was fair and from what he could see, flawless, and her full pink lips were made for kissing. Everything about her; her voice, the way she walked and held herself, her looks, all confirmed his suspicion that she was indeed a lady of quality. But what would a lady be doing at The Devil’s Lair, at this hour especially?

“Please have a seat, I will be but just a moment.”

He closed the door and looked at Sam as he whispered softly. “While I do appreciate variety, I must ask, who the hell is she?”

Sam once again had that glum-faced look that suggested he was about to impart some sort of tragic news upon him. “She is Lord Pettigrew’s sister.”

“For Christ’s sake! Will I ever be free of that idiot?” Kingston replied rather loudly, his vexation evident.

Lord Pettigrew was a young lord that came into his title at the ripe age of twenty and two and had lost nearly everything he owned at the Lair a few months earlier. Kingston had tried to stop him from gaming on numerous occasions. He even went as far as to invite him for drinks in his private apartments hoping he could have a conversation with the foolish young man before he lost his entire inheritance. His efforts were met with fiery resistance and at last Kingston washed his hands of the situation and decided that Pettigrew could reap what he sewed, let the duns have their way with him.

Pettigrew had come to him after the fact accusing him of not running an honest establishment, and any sympathy he might have had for the young man vanished at that point. Now it seems, Pettigrew has sent his sister to plead his case. Unfortunately for them both, he was not feeling the least bit generous or forgiving.

He narrowed his eyes just a fraction as he looked back at Sam. “Wait here, this will not take long and then you can escort her out.”

Sam nodded as he resumed his place against the back wall. Kingston took a deep breath, clearly not in the mood for this conversation.

When he walked back into the sitting area of his apartments on the bottom floor of The Devil’s Lair, he saw that the lady was sitting with her back rigid and her hands clasped tightly in her lap. He took a moment to admire her appearance and lamented the fact that her overly large cloak concealed her figure leaving it entirely up to his imagination. Luckily, he had a vivid imagination. Momentarily taken aback by her stunning beauty, he shook his head and remembered that he was about to send her on her way, not try to lure her into his bed.

“How may I be of assistance to you, Miss Pettigrew?”

Kingston watched her as she wet her lips with her tongue before speaking. It was an innocent action and one certainly not meant to make his cock tighten, but it did, nonetheless.

“I came to speak with you about my brother, Mr. Kingston.”

He moved over to the edge of the room where a decanter of brandy sat and poured himself a glass. “Would you like a drink, Miss Pettigrew?”

He saw her perfect little nose twitch just a bit. “No, thank you.”

“Very well, go on, you were speaking of your brother.”

She blinked her eyes a few times as she watched him move around to take the seat in front of her.

“Yes, it seems my brother has made some foolish decisions that have left us in a dire situation.”

Kingston took a sip of his drink never taking his eyes off the woman before him. She was so beautiful he was having a difficult time concentrating on her words. “Your brother is a bad gambler, Miss Pettigrew.”

“Obviously. I didn’t come here to argue facts with you, Mr. Kingston.” There was a bitter edge of cynicism to her voice.

“Then why are you here?”

He saw her cheeks pinken as if she were embarrassed by the situation.

“I came to…plead with you to have mercy on him.” She nearly strangled on the words as they left her lips.

Kingston could tell by the expression on her face that the idea of pleading for anything was abhorrent to her. “Miss Pettigrew, please let me save you the trouble and the discomfiture. I saw the path your brother was headed down and believe me I tried to stop him. There were numerous occasions that either I or my associate Sam, whom you met earlier, tried to get your brother to stop gambling. I had conversations with him regarding his carelessness, but he insisted that it was none of my concern. As a result of his foolish pride, I now own everything he possesses.” He gave her a lingering look. “Well, almost everything.”

She stood from her seat rather abruptly. “Yes, I can imagine. Edward has never liked anyone to tell him what to do.” She walked a few steps away. “The furniture and paintings were the first things to disappear. Edward always assured me that it was necessary for him to maintain the lifestyle fitting his position.” She turned back to face him. Her eyes were so expressive and filled with contempt. “The servants were the next to go and then the house. I suppose if I was successful in convincing you to return what Edward has lost, it would make no difference. If he didn’t gamble here, it would be somewhere else. I do have one request if you will oblige me.”

He leaned back and contently took another sip of his drink. The way she was looking at him was making him feel uncharacteristically sympathetic and that was a weakness. Weakness was one thing he could not afford.

“I’m not sure I can help you, Miss Pettigrew, but I am listening.”

She nodded her head causing her dark chestnut-colored curls to bounce with the movement. “After Edward lost the house, I moved into an old abbey that had belonged to my mother’s family. It’s small but adequate and all that I have left, but I know it is only a matter of time before he wagers that too. I am asking you not to allow it.”

Kingston stood from his seat and watched as she instinctively moved back from him. “You said that you moved into the abbey? Surely, you are not living there alone, Miss Pettigrew.”

She turned her face quickly away from him. “I misspoke. Of course not.”

Kingston didn’t believe her. He knew a lie when he heard one and her eyes once again gave her away. “I will not allow your brother to wager here again, Miss Pettigrew, but as you are aware, I can’t stop him from gaming elsewhere.”

She nodded perfunctorily. “I understand that, and I am not asking for anything more. Thank you for your time. While I didn’t get everything that I came here for, at least I have your assurance about the abbey.” She swiveled around to leave, and Kingston rushed to the door to open it before she reached it.

He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips thinking it very small and cold. “I am sorry for your troubles, Miss Pettigrew.”

He stood to the side as she swept past him. When she was out of hearing, he looked back to Sam. “Escort her out of here, then have a man shadow her and find out everything he can but make certain he knows to be discreet. I don’t want her to discover that I am having her followed.”

Sam nodded and rushed after her. Kingston walked back into his sitting room and poured himself another drink. Lord Pettigrew and his attractive sister were not his concern. The sooner he was assured of her safety and well-being, he could put her out of his mind completely and get back to his plans for expanding his business to Brighton. He had already discussed his idea with the prince and if he were lucky, he had a few infamous dukes that might be interested in investing in the endeavor. He did not have time for Pettigrew or his sister.

Sophie climbed into the hired hack after telling the driver her destination. She would not be returning to the abbey tonight. Luckily her friend Jeanine was in London visiting her grandmother and had offered to let her to stay with them. The invitation was a godsend as she didn’t have much money left. The money she would save by staying with her friend would afford her the luxury of a meal tomorrow when she took the mail coach back to Berkshire. It would take a few days to reach the abbey and all the money she had brought with her to pay for her room at the inn and something to eat.

Her hands were still shaking from her encounter with Mr. Kingston, the proprietor of the Devil’s Lair. When she made the decision to travel to London, it was with the intention of finding her brother and bringing him back to Abingdon. She did not, however, decide to visit Mr. Kingston until after Jeanine suggested that she should ask him for his help. It had made her feel sick to think of begging the man for what her brother had so carelessly lost at the tables. She had been halfway hoping he would take pity on her and grant some of what was lost back, but she could not ask, and it was ridiculous to think he would have any sort of compassion for her and her situation.

She had not known what to expect when she went to the infamous gaming establishment nor had she expected to find the proprietor, Mr. Kingston, to be a well-dressed attractive man. In her mind, she had pictured him as an ogre or pox-ridden villain. But he was nothing like what she had envisioned. Jeanine had offered to go with her, but she was already ashamed of the predicament her brother had forced her into, she had no desire for her friend to see her beg to a man she had never met. So, she had swallowed what little pride she still possessed and managed to get Mr. Kingston’s assurance that he would not allow her brother to gamble further.

When the carriage came to a stop outside her friend’s grandmother’s townhome far from the mansions of Grosvenor Square and Mayfair, she climbed out without any assistance and ran up the steps just as rain began falling from the sky. The dark skies and cold wind seemed to replicate how she was feeling inside, alone and hopeless. Her brother had constantly gotten into trouble growing up, but to lose everything her family owned, throwing everything away gambling, drinking, and heaven knew what else he was involved with. He might be three years older than her, but she couldn’t help but feel responsible for him. Her search for him in London had come to no avail, and now she would return to the abbey alone.

She removed her cloak and hung it on the pin beside the door just as Jeanine ran down the stairs to greet her.

“Sophie? Thank goodness you are back. I have been so worried. You really shouldn’t have gone out alone, especially at this time of night. Are you alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he? I should have gone with you.”

Sophie gave her friend a tired smile and tried to remain patient as her friend rattled on. “I am fine, Jeanine.”

Her friend took her hand and together they went upstairs. “You have to tell me more than that. Did you actually get to speak with Mr. Kingston? What did he say? Is he going to return what your brother lost?”

Sophie held up her hand. “Please, one question at a time. Yes, I was allowed to speak with Mr. Kingston, and no I didn’t ask him to return what my brother lost at his tables. I just couldn’t. Besides, he is in the business of running a gaming establishment and if he returned everything people lost, he would not stay in business very long. I did however get him to agree that he will not allow my brother to gamble anymore at the Devil’s Lair, but of course, you know as well as I do that is not a guarantee that the abbey will be safe.”

Her friend’s lips dipped into a deeper frown. “You can’t go back there, Sophie. It isn’t safe for you to stay there alone.”

Sophie felt her head begin to ache and she was incredibly tired. It wasn’t as if she wanted to return to the abbey. It was an old derelict building. There were a few holes in the roof that leaked when it rained, the old stone walls were cold and did little to offer any warmth or make one feel secure, most of the windows were cracked or broken and at night, it was the loneliest and most desolate place she could imagine. As much as she dreaded returning to the abbey, she knew she must, it was all she had left, and the only place she could think of where her brother might eventually show up.

“The abbey is my home now, as dilapidated as it is, and I must be there in case Edward returns. He is my brother and surely has not forgotten my existence entirely.”

Jeanine followed her into the bedroom they had allowed her to stay in while in London. Her bag was packed, and everything was ready for her departure first thing in the morning.

“Your brother should have someone beat him senseless for what he is putting you through. I can’t believe he would do what he has done and leave you alone to pick up the pieces. You must give some thought to your future, Sophie. You can’t stay at the abbey alone forever. You will need to make a living somehow. Perhaps you could apply for a governess position. With your education and your father being the former Viscount, it would be perfect for you.”

Sophie sank down on the bed. “Most good families do not want to hire the sister of a disgraced lord who gambled, drank, and whored away his inheritance living in their home and teaching their children. But I will find something suitable, don’t worry about me.” She squeezed her friend’s hand and tried to give her a smile that would belie the way she was feeling inside and convince her that she was indeed telling the truth. “I do have to get up early tomorrow and should get some sleep. It is already well past three.”

Jeanine sighed heavily. “I will expect letters from you.”

Sophie laughed softly. “I might have to invest in pigeons if I can’t afford the post.”

Her attempt at humor was not well received. “That’s not funny, Sophie.”

“I’m sorry. You will receive a letter from me as soon as I am back in Abingdon.”

Jeanine nodded and walked to the door. “I still think you should stay here with me until I return home.”

“Goodnight, Jeanine.”

Her friend closed the door and Sophie fell back against the pillows, a heavy sense of desperation hovering over her. She felt like weeping but there were no more tears. She had cried when the furniture was sold, and her heart broke even more when the horses, including her own horse that she had raised from a filly was sold at auction, and when she was forced from the manor house and had to move to the abbey, she had cried what she thought was her last tear, there simply was only so many. Now she had to be strong to survive and being strong meant that she had no time to feel sorry for herself. She lay still and stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes before closing her eyes. The sun would be up soon, and she would be traveling back to what was now her home, and she would have to make the best of it.