Rescued by a Duke (14 page)

"Lucien."

The footsteps in the hall ceased. Silence, then footsteps toward the study. Lucien stood just inside the doorway. "You bellowed, brother dear?"

Garrett came around the desk. He pointed to the settee. "Sit."

"Am I a dog? To obey your commands now?"

"If only it were so simple."

Lucien took his time strolling across the room. He sank down on the settee, sprawling out on the cushions. "What do you want this time?"

"I want you out."

"Then why did you order me
in
?"

Garrett walked to the settee. "I want you out. Gone. Never to return."

Lucien sat up, his eyes large, his previously languid movements now jerky and nervous. "What in the world are you talking about?"

"I think you know." Garrett crossed his arms.

Lucien pointed toward the entryway. "You mean your lady friend?"

"Her name is Miss Douglas."

"Oh, that's right. I've gotten her mixed up with all of my other conquests." Lucien smirked.

Garrett leaned over his brother until their faces were inches apart. "You will not go near her again. Do I make myself clear?"

Lucien held up his hands. "So I was right. She is your woman."

"Miss Douglas… it's not like that."

Lucien raised his eyebrows. "Like what?"

"Like the way you treat women and then dispose of them."

Lucien grinned. "So you're trying to say you love her?"

"My emotions are none of your concern."

Lucien sat up straight when Garrett backed away to lean against the desk. "I never thought I'd see the day when my stoic brother would actually fall for a woman. It's about time."

"Enough. I didn't call you in here to discuss my life. You need to leave. Now."

Lucien held up his hand. "Just a minute. You have no right to—"

"I have every right. And even if I allowed you to stay, out of the goodness of my heart, I shan't. I can no longer be associated with a man such as you."

"And just what kind of man am I?" Lucien leaned forward.

"Untrustworthy. Disloyal." Garrett rubbed his face. "The term
viper
comes to mind."

Lucien stood. "I knew you weren't fond of me but I never knew you felt this strongly."

"Stop the theatrics. You could not care less if I approve of you or not."

Lucien shrugged. "It's true enough, I suppose." He stretched his arms over his head, lowered them, and eyed Garrett. "Well, I'll be on my way, then." He raised his eyebrows and held out his hand, palm up.

Garrett crossed his arms. "Not this time."

"What do you mean? You've always provided me with money. How am I to live out in the world without it?"

"That's your problem. Maybe it's time you earned your own keep by an honest day's work."

Lucien scowled. "How can you expect me to work when I've had no training? No work experience?"

"Again, not my concern. I've tried for years to get you involved in the estate. You always laughed in my face, only too glad to flit through the door while I stayed here and took care of everything alone." Garrett walked toward the doorway. "Let's go up and retrieve your things. It's time to go."

"But—"

Garrett clenched his hands into fists at his sides. Heat rushed to his face. Was it red? He cared not. "No. You're leaving.
Now
."

****

The plans for the wedding were in full swing. It was to be a fairly modest affair since Sasha had no family, and Lady Johnsing would not have tolerated a lengthy engagement after what she had walked in on in Garrett's study.

That was fine with Sasha. It still seemed like a dream that she was to marry a man whom she loved, and who loved her. But he was a duke! And she was… Many tongues would wag at their wedding.

Everyone would want to know who she was and where she came from. She'd gathered from her time with Garrett that the high society of London had their own ideas about what should be done, when, and with whom. Sasha's life had never revolved around such rules. Her life had been only about survival.

Garrett had come up with an explanation and would share his fabricated story with any of the guests who enquired. It had something to do with her being a distant cousin, as he'd told Lord Phillbush that day. Sasha shivered.
Lord Phillbush
. If it was
he
she prepared to marry… Nausea gurgled through her stomach. His pudgy girth. Wispy hair. Obnoxious giggle. Disgusting kiss to her glove!

It made no difference what Garrett told the
ton
about her background or even if they believed it. Her life story was as far from the
ton's
as the earth was from the sky, and there was nothing she could do to change it. Even so, they would never accept her if they knew the truth. But would they accept her even if her background was kept secret?

She shrugged. Once they were married, Sasha would have more than she'd ever dreamed possible and was determined to embrace her happiness and new life with both hands. She'd never thought to have a home again, and certainly not one like this. It would be her honor to spend the rest of her life trying to make Garrett happy and content.

Knock. Knock
. "Come in."

Maryann entered, carrying another gown for Sasha to choose from.

She sighed with pleasure. "Maryann, you're spoiling me. I only need the one gown. Any of the three will suffice. They're all beautiful."

"'Tis not me spoiling you, your grace, 'tis his grace. He had them all made especially for you."

"I'm not 'her grace' yet, you know. Not for another few days." She giggled. "But isn't it exciting?" Her spine tingled. She'd be nobility! It was almost too much to imagine. Her mother would have been so proud.

Maryann grinned. "'Tis indeed. I'm so glad…" She averted her gaze, peering somewhere across the room.

"What's the matter?"

"I'm glad 'tis you who will be my mistress. You've… come to mean quite a deal to me."

Moisture formed around Sasha's eyes and clung to her lashes. What a sweet woman her maid was, and what a comfort to her in every way. She held out her hands toward her. Maryann laid the dress on the chair and came to sit on the bed beside Sasha, leaning forward when Sasha opened her arms and wrapped them around her, pulling her tight. "I, too, am pleased to be your mistress. Although I hope you know by now that I think of you as more than that. To me, you are family. And you know how important family is to me since I've been alone." Both women cried until tears dripped onto their clothes.

Sasha missed her mother, but Maryann had proven to be a caring substitute. And since Sasha had not yet reached adulthood when her mother had died, these two women also had a special bond of friendship, as well. It was a relationship Sasha had never hoped to have and she would treasure it always.

Another knock on the door preceded its opening a crack. "It is I, Garrett. May I come in?"

"Yes, of course," said Sasha.

Garrett entered with a smile but quickly frowned. "What's wrong? Is someone ill?"

Sasha pulled away from Maryann and wiped her eyes. "No. Nothing. We're just talking."

Garrett rubbed his hand down his face and blinked. "Remind me never to have a talk like that with you, Sasha. I'd rather not cause you to cry."

She shook her head. "You'd never be able to do anything that would cause me pain, Garrett. You're too honest and would never lie."
As my brother
always did
. "That I am sure of."

He crossed his arms and raised the corners of his mouth in a smile. "That's comforting to know."

Maryann stood and left them. She was still sniffling, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief as she shut the door.

Garrett crossed the room and sat on the bed beside Sasha. He took her hands in his. "Darling, I need to leave for a while today."

Sasha tilted her head. "But the wedding…"

"Don't worry, my love, it will not interfere with our special day. The servants will have everything accomplished for the wedding on time. You have my promise."

"And I know you are a man of your word, though I will miss you today." Sasha wanted to ask where he kept darting off to. He hadn't offered an explanation, so it seemed he had a secret. And unlikely that he would tell
her
. Should she be concerned? She shrugged. He'd had a life before they'd met, full of business dealings and responsibilities. This probably had nothing to do with her anyway.

Garrett was an important man with many things to oversee. And he was so good to her, what right did she have to complain? Her life was becoming a sweet dream all because of him. She didn't need to know what he did with every minute of his time.

Chapter Eleven

Garrett hated to leave Sasha, especially with only a few days before the wedding. But he'd gotten a tip from another of his sources about Samuel's murder. All of the ones he'd investigated before had turned out to be false leads. This one might prove to be the same, but he had to try. Who knew when he might stumble across a viable clue?

Wouldn't it be wonderful if they could resolve this mystery before the wedding? Then the authorities could deal with the scoundrel for whom Garrett searched, and he and Sasha could start their married lives in peace.

This particular tip led him to a local inn in Chelsea, a nearby village. His thoughts floated from one subject to the next during his drive. Sasha and their wedding. Lucien leaving home, hopefully for good. Finding Samuel's killer. Garrett's life had spun upside down in the last few weeks. But not all for naught. His heart melted at just the thought of Sasha. Beautiful, sweet and pure. She might not be a member of high society, but the fact mattered not to Garrett. He loved her and she loved him. That was all he cared about.

As he neared the address he'd given and turned off beyond Sloane Square, the scenery changed. What had begun on his trek as a lovely drive through lush trees and well-to-do residences, past the Chelsea Common and Marlboro Gardens, was now dirt paths and poorly built shacks. He'd not been to this part of Chelsea before. But when would he have had reason to? Such abominable living spaces were something foreign to him. Something he had no desire to witness. But this was another clue for him to check out, and he had not the luxury of picking which one might be the one he sought.

Garrett frowned when he reached his destination and climbed down from the curricle, handing the reins to his groom. The place was rundown and seedy. Was this the type of place Samuel had usually frequented? And what had Sasha done while her brother was off getting drunk somewhere? Had she been left alone and unprotected? Anger surged through Garrett's veins. If he had met Samuel, would he have liked him? He shook his head. It mattered not and wasn't proper to think ill of the dead. More importantly, Sasha loved her brother and grieved his loss.

Garrett walked across a dusty path to the front door, which was only hanging by the top hinge. Loud voices floated through a small open window. He pushed the door open, a piercing squeak from the hinge following him inside. Once his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he glanced around the small room. A rank stench assaulted him. Unwashed bodies and alcohol. He gritted his teeth and forced down a lump in his throat. It was unpleasant, but he must find out what he could while here. And if it wasn't the right place, he would quickly and gladly leave.

Several round tables, all full of patrons, were positioned near three of the walls. A counter protecting four kegs was in the corner. Laughter and shouting reverberated around the small room. How could anyone hear another person speak? Garrett much preferred his quiet house and the clean, orderly way of life he'd grown used to.

"Can I help you?"

Startled, Garrett glanced down. A young barmaid in a dirty dress stood next to him. If she had not shouted her question, he would not have known she was there. Did the poor girl even have any hearing left, working there? She had a pretty face. Until she smiled. Where teeth used to be, there was now a row of rotted brown stumps. Her breath was revolting. Garrett swallowed hard. Time to focus on why he was there and forget the atrocious surroundings.

He nodded. "Yes, miss. I'm here to inquire if anyone has information on a fight which occurred a few weeks ago."

"You'll need to be more clear, me lord." She jerked her thumb behind her. "There's fights most every night here." At the corner table where she pointed, two men thrust their faces toward each other, their voices roaring. "See? Most every night."

Garrett raised his voice to be heard. He couldn't imagine living like that, with arguments and unrest as the normal daily situation. "The fight I'm inquiring about resulted in a man being killed."

The woman nodded. "I remember that. Fights can get bloody around here, but before that one, been a while since anybody was killed. Two young men. One down on his luck. One dressed rich."