Chapter 1
Dominic Mercer let out a breath while studying the ivy-covered townhouse nestled in the corner of a street in London.
There was no reason for a duke to linger out in the street like this. He’d stationed his barouche just out of sight, needing the extra time to consider how he would handle this… situation.
Because even as the seventh Duke of Wycliffe, he couldn’t control everything in the world.
I don’t even know how someone dares summon a duke if they are not royalty.
But apparently they did when they were Cassian Ashbourne, the Viscount of Quinley.
The front door opened before he had finished climbing the stairs. A short footman offered a short bow. “Your Grace. Welcome to Ashbourne House. May I take your hat?”
He blinked, waiting for the footman to correct himself. Perhaps the lad had been practicing his greeting, especially since Dominic had yet to offer a card. But the man stared blankly at him so he had to say, “What hat?”
“I… Oh. That is, your coat?”
“This is not a strong start,” Dominic noted.
The footman scratched his cheek. “Your… anything?”
“No. I take it you were expecting me, which means the viscount is expecting me?”
Dominic hardly knew the young viscount who had to be five years his junior. In fact, he knew precisely eight facts about the viscount and the eighth one was most likely the reason he was here. Which left him not just annoyed, but wary.
And he had reason for it. Already Dominic knew the darker and danker corners of London. He liked watching the gambling, the risk, the danger. Not for himself, but to see others survive and fight their way through it.
Except he had left it behind seven months ago.
All because of Ashbourne. I wonder if he knows it. How could he? Perhaps this is a friendly call. A strange invitation poorly worded.
The thought almost made him laugh.
“Right, yes. The viscount is…” The footman paused.
Another voice, a soft and serious tenor, spoke for him from down the hall. “In the drawing room, Johnson. Your Grace, welcome. Johnson, make sure we are not to be disturbed.”
While Johnson eagerly obeyed, Dominic was able to lay eyes on the viscount.
Cassian Ashbourne was nearly as tall as he. With dark blond hair and green eyes, he cut a fine figure around London according to all accounts. He was a very particular and careful gentleman who, as the acting figurehead for his four younger siblings, took his responsibilities extremely serious.
The viscount looked back impassively before nodding for him to follow him into the room.
“I wasn’t certain if you would come today.”
Glancing about the room, Dominic paused to raise his eyebrow. “It was a rather interesting invitation. My appearance seemed… necessary.”
“Yes, it was. Shall we sit?”
The two gentlemen circled each other, putting distance between themselves before sitting.
“I have something to say,” Ashbourne announced at last.
I would hope so if I came all this way.
Except he wasn’t entirely certain he wished to hear a word from the lord. They didn’t have anything in common. They didn’t run in the same circles. Quite frankly, of late, neither of them ran in any circles that he knew of. This brought him little comfort.
Dominic finally gave a curt nod. “Go on.”
Squinting at him, Cassian abruptly rose. He moved a few feet before pausing at a small round table with a chess set.
“Once upon a late and dark evening,” he said quietly, “there were two gentlemen. Family, even. One of them had discovered a most… unfortunate secret.”
That is hardly a strong enough word.
Dominic said nothing but felt every muscle in his body begin to constrict, tightening as though he could become an impassive wall that could never be touched.
“They had been very close even for being family. It was a most complicated conversation. A difficult one. Neither party was happy and the argument exacerbated into something much more complicated. What made it worse was their location. A quiet corner on a bridge at night was hardly seemly, but it was supposed to be private. So when they fought, it may have appeared to some who might have seen, who could have thought––”
There came that aggravating knot inside his gut.
Raising a hand, Dominic was relieved when Cassian abruptly stopped speaking. “I know the end of the story, Ashbourne.”
And God, how I wish I didn’t. If only this was a courtesy visit. But the quiet threat in the invitation couldn’t be ignored. What does he wish of me? My silence? Seven months have proven this!
“As we both know you did,” the young lord pointed out curtly. “And we both know some matters are best left… buried.”
Dominic thought about denying what he had seen. What he knew had happened that night. But it hardly seemed worth the fight, and he didn’t have the energy to muster up lies.
Nor did he think Ashbourne would care for such tedious arguments.
Discomfiting silence filled the room. It took all of Dominic’s self-control not to charge out of the room. He did not flee from danger. He understood risks. But this situation was beyond all of it.
If I was alone in the matter, then perhaps that would have been manageable. But another lord knowing what I saw? Him of all people?
He sat straight in his seat to show the viscount that he would not be intimidated. As much as he didn’t want to know, it could be helpful information. Was the viscount looking to buy his silence?
“You do not know everything,” Ashbourne announced. He had a glass of brandy in hand. Where it came from, Dominic didn’t know. But the viscount swirled it without drinking. “You couldn’t.”
That garnered a small huff of annoyance. “Is that so?” He gave a short shake of his head. “I know enough, Ashbourne, about your argument with your uncle. You two were not quiet. The details don’t matter, not when we know the outcome. Burials and all.”
The swirling of the glass stopped. Cassian set it down to make his way back to his seat to stare back at Dominic.
“If word gets out, now or in ten years, your knowing of what happened that night will look just as awful,” Ashbourne pointed out sharply. “We would both be torn down for our actions. Us, our families, and our family names.”
“Oh?” Dominic scoffed but the seed of doubt was planted.
The viscount talked faster, leaning forward.
“My uncle’s death was ruled an accident, and our partial mourning period is over.
It has been calm and quiet, has it not? But as time presses on, I cannot mend all the harm and chaos that my uncle caused during his lifetime.
Certain… matters are bound to come to light.
If they point toward my uncle, then it means they will ultimately point toward both you and me now. ”
The words sounded rehearsed with a tinge of panic. It took an extra minute for Dominic to understand what was truly being said.
He wants this to be his leverage, not mine. He wants to manage the situation before anything can happen. Because if it did… He’s right. No one in London would accept their family if there was the whisper of suspicion about them colluding with their uncle. They would have to flee the country.
“Then you wish to keep the truth hidden,” Dominic murmured.
The duel. The accident. All of it can stay silent and sealed.
“Yes,” Ashbourne said.
He considered this before asking the gentleman, “Is this supposed to protect me or you?”
Ashbourne didn’t even blink before telling him, “I want to sleep reassured every night that I have your word and your protection.”
“Very well.” Then he paused and frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”
There was a new light in Ashbourne’s eyes. He had a plan, Dominic realized, and that was why he had been brought here.
“You are in a separate muddle of your own, are you not? As stated in your late father’s will, you must marry within ten years of taking on the dukedom or everything not entailed will be turned over to the Crown and removed from you. I’ve heard the gossip. It’s true?”
Though he speaks casually, he knows it isn’t gossip. Ashbourne wouldn’t bring it up if it was. Blast it, how did he find out?
His hands balled into fists. Keeping his father’s solicitor on for even a minute after the old man had passed nine years ago had been a mistake Dominic had regretted daily.
But he had finally removed the man and hired someone else.
Then he spent five hard years doing everything he could to manage some hidden debts and investigate removing that rule to the will.
But it didn’t work. Without a wife in hand, the majority of his inheritance––which he had limited access to until he wed––would escape him.
How Dominic loathed it. Everything was always right out of his hands.
“That is correct,” he finally admitted.
I didn’t come here for a negotiation. What is he up to?
“Very well.” Ashbourne sat back down. “You require a wife and I require your silence and security. What could be a happier outcome than a marriage?”
That hadn’t occurred to him. Dominic controlled his expression, forcing only a blink. “Between our families? You wish to be united?”
“It is by necessity,” Ashbourne reminded him. “Aren’t most marriages strategic for money or land? This is to manage some… secrets. It would bind us and ensure we never betray the other.”
“You remove the risk,” Dominic murmured, seeing it now.
Cassian was a devious man; how Dominic had never noticed before, he didn’t know.
“You may marry my eldest sister. Verity.”
“And has your sister,” Dominic managed to ask politely, “agreed to this arrangement?”
“She will do what is necessary for this family.”
Standing, Dominic frowned and opened his mouth to object. That response told him everything he needed to know. And he didn’t like it. All of this plan was making sense now, and he didn’t care for it.
I could refuse. I am the last of my family, after all, and I could surely bear any brunt…
Besides, who knows what truth could come out?
Maybe nothing will happen. This could all be for nought.
I don’t wish to marry a lady who doesn’t even know what she is getting involved in.
Women are supposed to have a choice for their husbands now.
I could say no, I could refuse the offer, and leave.
Maybe Ashbourne wouldn’t do anything. Or he might say something.
He could complicate my life. Make it unpredictable. Plan doubts. The risks are building…
Dominic looked at Ashbourne who wasn’t saying anything. It was like he knew he had Dominic trapped. They could keep control of the situation and work together, or they could stand apart––and most likely, fall.
He didn’t like unpredictability, not like this. Not when his life was at risk.
“That is… an effective proposal. Very well.” Dominic forced himself to accept while he started for the door, ready to be out of here. “I’ll speak with my solicitor at once for the contract.”
“I’ll be waiting for it.” Ashbourne followed behind as they reached the door. “It’s not as though I have any duels to worry about.”
His words caught Dominic and he paused while opening the door.
Right then, there was a flash of movement. His eyes realized they weren’t alone. A gasp sounded. He turned in time to catch a figure falling right into him.
“Oh! I beg your pardon,” the soft voice came, a hand falling on his arm. He looked and he stared. Big hazel eyes consumed his vision. His hands tightened around her––a small waist––when she wobbled on unsteady feet. Her lips curled when she spoke, “I didn’t see you there.”
He tried to remember how to remove his hands. “I believe,” he said in the meantime, “we share the fault.”
The two of them were too close. He could almost touch her nose with his. A tall woman, he realized, and decided he appreciated a tall lady. When she inhaled deeply, her ribs expanded. The motion had him loosening his grip.
He smelled lilacs.
Whoever she was, the young woman used that as her opportunity to move back a step. He thought it best to do the same.
“And I believe that you were standing where you should not have been.”
Dominic raised his eyebrow at the bold young lady.
“Verity.” Ashbourne was no longer forgotten as he came around Dominic. The young woman straightened. “You’re speaking to the Duke of Wycliffe.”
“Oh?”
There was a breath and Dominic realized what the viscount was going to say. He had no chance to brace himself.
“And your future husband.”
“Ah.”