Chapter Two
Chapter Two
The Next Day
Kingston sat in his office on the second floor of the gaming house, going over the numbers from the night before. Prinny and his entourage of admirers and followers had decided to spend a good portion of their evening at The Lair. The friendship he had developed with the future monarch was advantageous, to say the least but could at times be tedious. One advantage was that the prince’s visits to his establishment tended to be quite lucrative. His profits seemed to increase considerably anytime the prince and his close circle of friends decided to gamble the night away. It seemed that the gentlemen of the ton were even more anxious to lose money when the future king was in attendance. He paused when there was a knock on the door. It had to be Sam, no one else would disturb him at this time of day.
“Come in.”
But it wasn’t Sam that opened the door. Instead, it was his friend and confidant Charles Newberg, the Duke of Avanley. “Prinny had mentioned that he was here last night. I imagine you are rather happy with the result of his visit.”
Kingston leaned back in his chair and motioned for his friend to take a seat. While society dictated that he should have stood and bowed in reference to Avanley’s title, their relationship was much more casual. Of course, when in public he would show the respect that was due his friend, in private they could be more informal.
“The money others lose while trying to boost their standing in the prince’s eyes does help make up for his losses that I have to pay back as a measure of friendship.”
Charles’ laughter was deep and low as he took a seat in front of his friend’s desk. “Yes, it can be tiresome at times being in Prinny’s favor.”
Kingston shrugged his shoulders in resignation agreeing with his friend. “I thought you and the ever lovely, Isobel would have already quit London and retired to Avanley Hall for the summer.”
Charles’ eyebrows rose slightly higher. “Since you broke the news to us that we had been summoned to Brighton for two weeks to entertain his majesty, we decided there was no need to leave London in a rush. The house party we had planned to host at Avanley Hall will have to wait till next year.”
“It’s only two weeks, surely you can find the time to still host your party.”
Charles’ lips lifted on one side in a lop-sided grin. “Time we may have, my willingness to lose any more of it where my wife is concerned is limited, however.”
Kingston grinned mischievously at his friend’s comment. Charles had been one of the biggest rakes, if not the biggest in London, before he was forced into a marriage he did not want with the beautiful Isobel. Their relationship may not have begun on the best terms, but it did not take long for Charles to fall in love with his lovely bride, and he has been reluctant to leave her side ever since.
“You know I have other reasons for joining the prince when he retires to Brighton at the end of the season.”
Charles leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You want to expand your empire and open another gaming house in Brighton.”
Kingston reached for a bottle of brandy on his desk. “Would you like a drink?”
Charles shook his head. “No, thank you.”
“Very well, you truly have become domesticated.”
“I wouldn’t say that, but when you do have a wife and children your priorities tend to shift more in that direction.”
Kingston wouldn’t know anything about that. His father’s main priority was making money and teaching him the necessary skills to do the same and after losing his mother at the young age of seven, he knew little else.
“I want you as well as Hawksford and Leicester to invest with me. Davenport is even thinking of throwing his hat in the ring, so to speak. As the new Duke of Stafford, he has the funds to invest and thinks a fortune could be made there.”
Charles sat back and regarded his friend from across the desk. “Who will run the new establishment? I know you aren’t willing to leave London or The Devil’s Liar, and if Sam takes over the new place, that doesn’t leave anyone here to watch the gaming and allow you to chase your more… pleasurable pursuits.”
Kingston grinned wryly thinking of Annabella and how he had refused her charms the night before. “All the details have not been worked out yet, but I’m sure we could come up with a solution.”
“Perhaps while we are all in Brighton, we can help you come up with an idea.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in.”
This time it was Sam standing in the doorway. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but James has returned from the errand you sent him on last night, and I thought you might wish to speak with him.”
Charles stood from his seat. “I suppose I will see you in Brighton.”
Kingston rose in one fluid motion to shake his friend’s hand. “If not before.”
He watched as Charles left the room before turning to Sam. “Send him in.”
He resumed his seat as James, another of his employees, came in, hat in hand.
“Did you follow her?”
The man nodded. “I did, sir. She took a hack to a small townhouse far from the fashionable side of London. It belongs to an older lady, a widow. Miss Pettigrew was staying with her while in London. Apparently, she is friends with the lady’s granddaughter.”
Kingston folded his hands together, the tips of his fingers resting under his chin. “I commend you on discovering so much in such a short time, James. What else do you know?”
“Her given name is Sophie. I learned that from the gentleman who lives next door. He seems to have developed an interest in the girl, but she spurned his advances.” James grinned just a bit. “The man selling bread on the street told me that part.”
Kingston frowned wondering if the man had been a nuisance to Miss Pettigrew. “I want you to keep an eye on her and find out as much as you can about her situation.”
“That’s going to be difficult, sir. She took the mail coach this morning to Abingdon in Berkshire. She is returning to her home there.”
Kingston stood abruptly. “Surely she isn’t traveling alone!”
“That she is. The gentleman we spoke of earlier was right upset about it, calling her a foolish chit for refusing his offer and leaving to return to an empty home where she has no protection. If you ask me, she needed protection from him.”
“Bloody hell!” He began pacing the floor behind his desk. “I knew she was lying to me.” He spun around to face James. “Pack your things. I want you to leave for Abingdon right away. Find out where she lives and report back to me. I want to know everything.”
James looked at him in surprise. “Everything, boss?”
“Damn it, yes! But don’t let her know. Keep quiet and be discreet.” He stalked to the door and jerked it open. “Sam!”
His second-in-command jumped slightly before rushing over. “James is leaving today for Berkshire. See that he has what he needs.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll see to it that he is gone within the hour.”
Sam’s sense of urgency didn’t appease his foul mood. “And Sam, find her goddamn brother!”
Both James and Sam rushed from the room to do as they were instructed, and Kingston went back into his office slamming the door behind him. He walked over to his desk and poured himself a hefty glass of brandy. He paused with the glass just at his lips. He never should have agreed to meet Miss Pettigrew. She had played upon his sympathies and now he couldn’t get the blasted woman out of his head. Damn her brother for being a foolish and reckless arse. He turned the glass up and drank the entire contents before slamming the empty glass back down on his desk.
He moved around to retake his seat behind his desk. He had work to do and thinking about the lovely and misfortunate Miss Pettigrew wasn’t getting it done. “Could this day get any worse?” he mumbled to himself as he resumed going over his ledgers. His words were prophetic, because in a few hours, he would realize just how much worse it could be.
Two Hours Later
The day had not gone as expected, but Sam had assured him that James was well on his way to Abingdon to find Miss Pettigrew and would probably make it there before her since she was traveling by a much slower method of transportation. Once he discovered the circumstances surrounding the young lady, he could do what he needed to appease his conscience and then he could put her out of his mind forever.
Papers and ledgers were spread across his desk. He was looking over the contract for a building he was interested in leasing in Brighton when he was once again disturbed by a sharp tapping on the door. Sam opened the door just enough for Kingston to see half his face.
“For God’s sake, Sam, what is it now? At this rate, I’ll never get anything done today.”
Sam pushed the door open a little wider. “You have another visitor.”
Kington waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t have time for any more visitors. Send them away.”
Sam swallowed nervously and tugged at his cravat. “This visitor isn’t going to be sent away so easily.”
Kingston paused, narrowing his eyes curiously. “It would not be the prince. You have the good sense to know not to have him wait. Is it one of my friends, one of the dukes?”
Sam shook his head causing Kingston’s frown to intensify. “Well, who the bloody hell is it then? A visiting royal dignitary? Wellington? Or is it Napoleon himself?”
“I’m afraid it is much worse. Your uncle is here.”
Kingston’s mouth nearly dropped open in surprise. “My uncle? The Duke of Kenworth?”
Sam nodded and nervously looked back to the door. “He insists on seeing you.”
“I’m not interested in anything he has to say.”
A deep booming voice sounded loudly from behind Sam causing his friend to jump and Kingston to rise quickly from his seat. “But yet you will hear me out nonetheless, Benedict.”
Kingston sighed heavily and inclined his head to Sam who quickly left the room closing the door behind him. His uncle moved further into the room. He had aged considerably since he had last seen him. He was more stooped over than before and the lines on his face were deep and sagging. His white hair was thinning on top and when he walked, he did so leaning heavily on the black cane he wielded like a weapon.
“It’s been a long time, your grace. What brings you to London? You typically stay clear of the city unless your vote is needed in Parliament.” Kingston watched as his uncle came forward and sank down in the chair before his desk. His breathing was heavy, and his jowls sagged with the deep frown on his face.
“I wouldn’t be here now if you had answered my letters.”
Kingston resumed his seat. “Would you care for a drink?”
His uncle shook his head slightly. “My physician says I must give it up if I want to live to see Christmas.”
Kingston shrugged his shoulders dispassionately. “Then, by all means, you must follow your physician’s advice.”
His uncle took a moment to look around his office. “You have turned your gaming establishment into a profitable business. You have a head for numbers.”
Kingston regarded the man across from him wondering why he had chosen today to pay him a visit. “My father taught me what I needed to know. I am very proud of The Lair.”
“You have managed to become good friends with very influential members of the ton. Even the prince considers you a close confidant. It’s good for a man to have friends within the realm.”
“Why are you here, uncle? Do you have need of business advice or are you hinting at an invitation to Carlton House?”
His uncle tapped his cane loudly on the floor. “I don’t need help with either. Why did you not answer my letters?”
Kingston poured his drink and sipped it before saying, “Because I never read them.”
He watched as his uncle’s cheeks turned red. “I know things have never been good between us. Your father made certain that you felt the same animosity toward the family that he did himself.”
Kingston clutched the glass in his hand tighter. “It was my grandfather that caused the animosity when he cut off his only daughter because she married my father. I would not blame my father for the rift between us.”
A dark look of sadness crossed his uncle’s face. “My sister was the angel of the family. She never saw the evil in this world, only love. What my father did to her was unjustified and the rest of the family disagreed with his decision.”
“If you disagreed with him, why did you not reach out to your sister? Why did you go along so easily with her banishment?”
His uncle’s eyes flashed with fury. “I loved my sister and there isn’t anyone who will challenge that, but our father was a harsh man. I had already decided that when I became duke after his death, I would welcome her and your father back into the fold of the family. Unfortunately, her death came before that of our father’s.” He reached up and for a moment Kingston thought he saw the older man wipe a tear from his eye. “After your mother died, your father made certain that you were kept away from the family. And after so many years, we stopped trying. When you reached your majority, it was abundantly clear that you did not want to be associated with any of your mother’s kin.”
Kingston scoffed loudly. “Let’s skip through the touching family reunion and get to the point, why are you here? Why have you been sending me letters weekly for the past two months?”
“If you had read the letters, you would know that.” The older man said with a touch of sarcasm in his hard voice.
Kingston couldn’t help but grin slightly at his reaction. “Touché.”
The older man reached inside his coat pocket and coughed loudly into a handkerchief. “Both of my sons have died, James in the war, and Frederick when his ship went down in a storm as he was crossing the channel.”
Kingston held on to his resolve despite the small twinge of sympathy that sprung to life in his chest as he watched the man speak of losing his sons. “My condolences.”
“My physician says I have very little time left. If I make it to the new year, it will be because God decided to grant me mercy.” He looked up and grinned sardonically. “The life I have led does not garner mercy.”
“So, you are here to seek peace with me, ease your conscience before you stand in judgement?”
“No, damn it!” He tapped the cane loudly against the floor once again. “My conscience is clear. The only one I have wronged was your dear mother, and I will beg her forgiveness when I see her again. I am here because you are my heir. When I die, you will become the new Duke of Kenworth.”
Kingston sat quietly still for a minute before bursting into laughter. “You can’t be serious. I have never desired your title, nor your position in society. I have my own money, more so than the duchy even. I will not accept it. Let Kenworth go back to the crown.”
His uncle’s frown intensified, but instead of the burst of rage he expected from the man, he received a simple reply. “I thought you might see it that way. That’s why I brought this.” He pulled out a yellowed piece of paper and handed it to him. “Your mother wrote to me before her death. As I said, I loved my sister. When she became sick, I received a letter with another letter inside. She asked me to hold it for you and give it to you when you were a man. My sister always wanted you to be a part of the family.” He used all his strength to push himself up from his seat to stand before his nephew. “I will be in London till the end of the week. Read the letter and when you have made your decision, come talk with me. I will be at Kenworth House in Mayfair. I believe you already know where it is.”
Kingston watched as his uncle hobbled from the room, the sound of his cane clicking along the floors growing softer the farther he moved away. He held the letter in his hand, his fingers trembling as he unfolded the brittle yellowed parchment and saw his mother’s signature at the bottom of the page. The paper was old, and the ink was beginning to fade, but he could easily make out the words.
My Dearest Benedict.
I’m afraid that I will not be allowed to see you grow into the man I know you will be. Fate did not grant me that blessing. Your father will teach you the importance of taking care of responsibilities and business. He is a good man and I love him dearly. I have no regrets that I married him as he gave me my greatest gift; you. My only regret is that you will not know the love of my family. My father, your grandfather, is a harsh man, but in reality, he only wants what is best for the people he loves. I want you to promise me that when you are a man, that you will put aside any anger you may feel and take your rightful place as a member of my family. My brother will welcome you with open arms.
One day my son, life will take you down a different path than you expect. One that will fulfill your true destiny. A destiny that will see you take your true place among the ton. I feel it deep in my heart. I wish I could be there to see it, to see you do the amazing things I know you will be capable of doing. During your life, you will be given many choices and I know you will choose wisely and make me proud. It is my last wish that you listen to those who can help you and be willing to accept what will be given to you.
I may not be there in the flesh to show you the love and support only a mother can give but always know that I will be watching over you from afar. While my physical heart is growing weaker by the day, it has always been full to overflowing with love for you, my so. I wish you well, my love, and pray that you find happiness in this world. Never doubt the love and pride I have for you. I will always love you and your father more than my own life.
Love always,
Your mother
Kingston read the letter twice before folding it back and placing it in the private locked drawer in his desk. He reached over and took the bottle of brandy from his desk not bothering to refill the glass, he just turned the bottle up and drank. Getting foxed might not be the answer to his problems, but right now he didn’t want to think, and the liquor would dull his senses enough that he could forget all this nonsense at least for the remainder of the day. He walked from his office, passing Sam along the way.
“I will be indisposed for the rest of the day. Watch the tables tonight, Sam. I’m not certain I will make an appearance until tomorrow.”
Sam watched him warily but knew better than to ask questions.
Kingston walked downstairs to his private apartments and straight to his bedroom. He walked over to the table beside his bed and opened the drawer to take out the only picture of his mother he owned. It was a miniature but in it, she wore the bright smile that he still remembered as a young child.
He took another drink from the bottle. He had spent his adult life building an empire. The Devil’s Lair was the most popular gaming house in London, if not the world. It was held in high regard by the prince and the upper crust of London’s Beau Monde, and just now when he was looking into expanding his empire to Brighton, a move that would ensure that he had his hands in the ton’s pockets both during the London season and the off season as well. Especially when the richest members of the ton follow the prince to his palace in Brighton when Prinny quits London at the end of the season. Now his uncle shows up to tell him that he is his heir, that he, a man that never aspired to rise to such ranks would be the new Duke of Kenworth. His first instinct was to tell the man to go to hell. The title could disappear and be absorbed by the crown, but the letter his uncle had produced gave him pause.
He seldom thought of his mother. She had died when he was seven years old and his memories of her were fading with time. The thought that she had the foresight to write a letter that would influence actions that would determine his future was bizarre to him. Of course, his mother could not have known that tragedy would strike his uncle’s family taking both of his sons and heirs, but nevertheless, her words indicated that he should accept what was in truth his right to have, his burden to bear. Despite the fact that she had been gone for over twenty-four years, he didn’t want to disappoint her.
It was not as if he wasn’t competent for such a position. He dealt with the ton for most of his life and was friends with many of the upper echelon, but having the responsibility of a dukedom was unexpected. Despite his desire to refuse his uncle, he knew what he must do, what would please his mother. He just hoped the ton was prepared to welcome another wicked duke into their midst as one of their own.