Sins of a Duke (17 page)

May and Milton were both seasoned soldiers who’d
served with her father on dozens of campaigns. They had both killed, and knew how to do it well and efficiently. And both had fortunes resting on the rey’s success. Her breath quickened, and she worked to slow and steady it.

As they made their way back to the box, the pathways and clearings seemed even more crowded, the visitors more raucous. A juggler strolled by, half a dozen apples in the air and a loose mob following behind him to wager loudly on when and how many pieces of fruit he would drop. She edged closer to May.

“Too much liquor flowing tonight, I think,” the lieutenant said, giving her a reassuring glance. “We’re nearly back to safety.”

Her heart thudded again. She couldn’t even see if Melbourne still walked behind them. What if Captain Milton had killed him already? Gasping, she turned around so quickly that May stumbled.

The duke walked calmly a pace or two behind them, his expression cool and aloof, still convinced of his own invulnerability. “Is something amiss, Your Highness?” he asked.

“No. I thought you might have toddled off somewhere to neglect your duty to me again.”

“I never forget my duty, Your Highness.”

Yes, and everyone knew that. He couldn’t be bribed, and he wouldn’t be coerced, the fool.

“Here we are. You go on ahead, Your Highness.”

At May’s instruction she lifted her gaze. The rey sat in the box beside her mother, both of them looking in her direction. Harek stood a little to one side gazing at the fireworks, a glass of something red in his hand. She didn’t see Milton anywhere, though in the jostling, jovial crowd that wouldn’t have been easy had he been standing in plain sight.

“How was your tour, daughter?” her father asked, ges
turing for her to approach.

“Very enlightening,” she returned, trying to keep from shaking as she released Lieutenant May’s arm.

When she glanced back at Melbourne to thank him for his services as guide, she caught sight of Milton beyond, closing on them quickly. Steel flashed in his hand.
Oh, God
.

Without thinking she threw herself on Melbourne, wrapping her hands into his lapels and twisting him around with all her strength. She kissed him hard as they half-stumbled away from Milton, in the direction of the box. His arms reflexively closed around her, but she scarcely noticed as she put herself between him and the captain.

“Melbourne’s asked me to marry him,” she said in her loudest voice, praying both Milton and her father would hear, “and I’ve said yes!”

S
ebastian scarcely heard what Josefina was shrieking, but the kiss registered, along with the very public setting. He grabbed her shoulders to shove her as far away from him as he could.
Damn her
.
Damn her to h
—

Then just beyond her shoulder he saw the knife, saw the soldier, Milton, hurriedly ducking away into the crowd, and a thousand things exploded into his brain. She’d been right. Embry had meant to kill him tonight. At that moment, Josefina Embry had just saved his life.

In that instant, his world shifted. Swallowing, he pulled her hard against his side. “I meant to ask your permission first, Your Majesty,” he ground out. “My feelings overcame me.”

“They overcame both of us,” she joined in, her voice shaking. He risked a glance at her. Her face was as white as his felt, her expression verging on hysteria.

Strangely enough, that calmed him. He needed to take charge. Milton was still somewhere with the knife, and
Josefina might well have just placed herself in danger, as well. Whatever else had just happened—he would deal with the ramifications later. Now he needed to take responsibility for the action itself, settle as much of the outside chaos as he could.

“I hope you will forgive our ham-fistedness and give us your blessing,” he continued, guiding her toward the box.

Embry had shot to his feet at Josefina’s announcement, his face nearly as pale as hers. So he’d been taken off guard, too. By now everyone in the gardens would be hearing the news—the Duke of Melbourne had just announced his marriage to Princess Josefina of Costa Habichuela.

“Let go of me,” Josefina muttered through clenched teeth.

“Shut up,” he breathed back, stopping in front of her parents. “Your Majesties—”

“Welcome to the family, Melbourne!” Embry bellowed, thereby informing anyone who might have missed Josefina’s shrieking that there had just been a betrothal. “Or I must call you Sebastian now, I reckon.”

Sebastian tightened his jaw. “Yes, please do.”

The Duke of Harek, whom he’d nearly forgotten, abruptly shoved a chair aside so hard that it cracked the box’s railing. “Just a damned minute,” the duke snarled. “You and I have an agreement, Your Majesty. I will not—”

“We talked, Charles,” Embry interrupted. “We did not and do not have an agreement. Now please desist, and we shall discuss it in private later.”

“We certainly will.” With a furious glare at Sebastian, Harek pushed past the lot of them and strode into the crowd.

“Perhaps we should go, as well,” Queen Maria said unexpectedly. “We’ve created quite a stir, and with only two guards—”

“You’re right as always, my dear. Lieutenant, lead the way back to the coach.”

Sebastian didn’t correct the queen by pointing out that only one guard seemed to be present at the moment. There were far too many people about, and if Captain Milton still intended on killing him, he didn’t want to inform anyone else that he was suspicious.

“Melbourne!”

He flinched at the stunned tone of Shay’s voice. Drawing himself in more tightly, he faced his approaching brother. “We’ll discuss this later, Charlemagne. I need to see my betrothed and her parents to my coach.”

Shay visibly shook himself, obviously realizing that a public outburst from another member of the Griffin family would only make matters worse. “Of course,” his brother said, moving aside as the lieutenant, Embry and his wife close behind him, left the box.

His hand still wrapped hard around Josefina’s arm, Sebastian pulled her down the steps with him. “You are hurting me,” Josefina hissed, pulling against him.

“I don’t particularly care,” he returned, shifting his grip a little but keeping her close beside him.

“I saved your life.”

“Thank you. Though yelling ‘assassin’ might have been at least as effective, and fewer people would be staring at us and gossiping right now.”

“As if I
want
to marry you,” she retorted. “I only had a second. It was all I could think to do.”

Rather, he imagined it was all she could think to do without exposing her family for the frauds they were. “You and I are going to have a very serious, very private little chat,” he breathed. “And you are going to tell me every bloody thing you know, so I can hopefully find a way to extract us from this disaster.”

“That’s well and good for you,” she whispered back, “but I
am
the disaster.”

And ten minutes earlier he’d sworn to cut all ties with her. Shakespeare’s “tangled web” didn’t even begin to describe the mess he’d fallen into.

Captain Milton emerged from the crowd ahead of them. He muttered something at the rey, who shook his head. Sebastian narrowed his eyes. Tightly as he’d been holding himself in over the past days, his control was beginning to fray. It was bad enough that he had to smile at the man who’d most likely ordered his murder. With the would-be assassin rejoining the party, the response he should make and the one he wanted to make were miles apart.

“Sebastian,” Josefina said, her voice low and urgent, “don’t do anything to reveal that you knew about—”

“Your Majesty,” he interrupted, as they reached the coach, “I have to apologize again for not broaching the subject of marriage with you first. I beg your understanding, and ask that you take my coach home and allow me a few hours to consult with my staff so I may present you with a proper assessment of what I can do for Costa Habichuela in exchange for Josefina’s hand.”

The rey’s expression shifted from guarded to self-satisfied, the pompous oaf. “That’s very gentlemanly of you, Sebastian. We shall see you in the morning, then.” He offered his hand.

Finally and reluctantly releasing his grip on Josefina’s arm, Sebastian shook the rey’s hand. If he’d had only himself to consider, he would have flattened the bastard. He forced a smile. “Until tomorrow.”

Green closed the coach door and stepped back. The groom and Tollins exchanged a glance that Sebastian couldn’t read, and then Tollins clucked at the team and they were off.

“Where to, Your Grace?” the groom asked, as Lieuten
ant May and Captain Milton fell in behind the coach, leaving the two of them in the darkness.

“I don’t recall asking you to remain behind,” Sebastian stated, facing the servant.

“Begging your pardon, Your Grace, but coach tiger ain’t my usual position. I reckon that you brought me along to keep an eye on things, and so I am.”

“Hm.” Sebastian looked around at the crowd of horses, grooms, and vehicles. Overhead, a burst of fireworks winked white into the sky. “I need to get home,” he said, heading for the bridge. It was still early, and Peep was probably still awake. He did not want her to hear this particular news from anyone but him.

“I’ll hire us a hack,” Green said, matching his pace.

He needed to think, and what he wanted was a few moments in private. At the same time, he knew that Embry had other soldiers, and he couldn’t guarantee that Josefina’s stunt had caused them all to withdraw. If he’d been the rey, he wasn’t certain how he would proceed—a chance at additional riches versus permanently closing the mouth of someone who might expose him.

From the manner in which she’d acted, Josefina clearly thought that Embry would choose the riches. With her one loud statement she—and her father—most likely thought they’d silenced him, and gained his cooperation. Well, he’d allow them to think that. For the moment.

“How did you manage it, Josefina?” her father chortled in between bouts of outright laughter. “You said he was suspicious of us!” He put a hand over his chest, as if he couldn’t contain his amusement. “I nearly removed him from the equation. Good Lord. You should have said something!”

Josefina sat in the opposite corner of the coach and rubbed her arm. Sebastian’s grip would leave a bruise. “I
suppose everyone has their price,” she improvised. “When he realized that Harek was on the verge of proposing, I think he understood what an opportunity was about to pass him by.”

“Excellent, excellent, excellent. I’ve always said if there’s one constant in the hearts of all men, it’s greed. Our entire endeavor works because of that principle.”

“Are you happy with the match,
mi querida
?” her mother asked.

The future groom wasn’t. He was furious at the idea of having to marry her. No doubt he would find a way to escape it and to see her hanged at the same time. Once she’d made the announcement, extricating himself from it had been the only thing he’d even mentioned. But if the alternative to her declaration was seeing him stabbed in the back, she would accept his anger. “We will be wealthy beyond our wildest dreams,” she said aloud.

“But are you happy to marry him?” Maria Embry pressed.

“Of course she’s happy, my love,” her father broke in. “We’ve won. Still a few details to work out and all that, and I want the wedding to take place as soon as possible, but with Melbourne in the fold and under control, we can do as we please.”

She wished she could be so certain of that. A wedding would secure her family’s future, and Melbourne’s options were limited. His anger and disgust, though, troubled her heart.

“I’m glad he gave us until tomorrow,” her father was saying. “We need to draw up some papers, something to make certain he has to keep quiet about what he knows or incriminate himself. Oh, and I should give him a title.”

“He’s already a duke, Father.”

“What did we give Prinny?” he went on, as though she hadn’t spoken. “It can’t be as high as that—perhaps I’ll
make him a regular Knight of the Green Cross. You know, with the Duke of Melbourne involved now, we should have a loftier name the next time. Costa del Oro, perhaps. We would have to alter the prospectus and the bond and land sale documents, but we can certainly afford the expense now.”

Josefina sat silently, trying not to let her mouth gape open as her father happily plotted the formation of a new and improved country on the Mosquito Coast. He truly didn’t care what might become of any settlers who would arrive to find no gleaming capital city, no sparkling harbor, no Costa Habichuela at all. And no princess.

Once Sebastian discovered that an ex-patriot soldier’s daughter had publicly trapped him into marriage, she would likely be thankful that she could only be hanged the one time. Why hadn’t her father bothered to tell her that he meant to expand their scheme? He expected her to take the risks.

A soldier’s daughter. She’d slapped Sebastian. She’d put on airs. She’d given the impression that she barely considered him elevated enough even to speak with her. She’d taken him to her bed. He would never forgive her.

Josefina shook herself. What was wrong with her, pining over losing something she’d never had? It wasn’t as though they cared for one another. Their attraction was simply a mutual lust. Everything, everyone, was just a means to an end, and she’d played the last and best trick. And now more than ever she needed to keep Sebastian close by in order to keep herself safe, because he would never just let this go.
Never
.

A low stir of…something went through her. If the only way to save herself and Sebastian, save her family, save the other people who relied on her father’s wits, was to go forward with a wedding, then she would do it. And even if Sebastian hated her for it, he would marry her as
long as it appeared to be the right thing to do. Perhaps eventually he would even forgive her.

Stanton pulled open the front door as Sebastian reached it. “You’ve returned early, Your Grace. I hope—”

“Where’s my daughter?” Sebastian barked, heading for the stairs without bothering to shed his gloves or coat.

“I believe her to be in the billiards room with Mrs. Beacham, Your Grace. Is something amiss?”

Sebastian raced up the stairs. “The family will be arriving shortly,” he said over his shoulder as he ascended. “Show them to the morning room. If you see any Witfelds other than Caroline, send them away.” He frowned as he topped the stairs. This nonsense wasn’t their fault. “No. Send any extraneous Witfelds to the breakfast room. Have Cook make them sandwiches or something.”

“I’ll see to it, Your Grace.”

He reached the billiards room and pushed open the door. “Mrs. Beacham, please excuse us,” he said, keeping his voice low and even. “Lady Penelope will see you in her bedchamber shortly.”

The red-haired governess curtsied. “Good evening then, Your Grace. I shall be waiting, Lady Peep.”

“Very well, Mrs. B.”

The governess left the room, closing the door softly behind her. When Sebastian turned back to the room Peep was eyeing him, a too-large billiards cue in her small hands. He paced to the window and back, but the drive below remained empty.

Now that he’d gotten to her, he didn’t know what to say. In addition, he couldn’t stand still—with time to think, he would have to acknowledge what had taken place tonight and how he’d been so off-balance that he hadn’t been able to prevent it.

“Did you shoot someone?” Peep asked, leaning on the cue in a petite imitation of her uncles.

“No.”

“You’re making me very uneasy, Papa. I think you should tell me what’s happened.”

Bright as Peep was, she was still a little girl. His little girl. And there were some things about people and their machinations that he didn’t care to educate her about. Not yet. “Come here,” he said, taking a seat on one of the chairs lining the wall. “We need to talk.”

She laid the cue across the table and climbed onto the arm of the chair. “Is everyone well?” she asked, a quaver in her voice.

“Everyone’s perfectly fine.”
Wonderful
. Sending his daughter into a panic would complete the evening. “A very complicated thing has happened. The circumstances of it could change at any moment, and probably will, but I thought you should know how things stand.”

“Very well, as long as no one is hurt.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. How the devil was he supposed to begin this particular tale? “I kissed Princess Josefina,” he proffered.

Penelope narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t ruin her like Uncle Shay ruined Aunt Sarala, did you?”