Coming in May of 2018

Theo tipped his glass of whisky back and finished it in a single swallow. His third in as many minutes. Any moment now the burning liquid would begin to numb the fresh wave of loss he’d felt before coming here.

His last lead had gone cold. For the past two years, he’d been searching for his sister. The one person in this godforsaken country that he loved. Or maybe it was just him that had been forsaken. He wasn’t sure.

“I’ll have another,” he waved at a barmaid, who grimaced in response. He wasn’t certain if that meant she wouldn’t serve him or she just disapproved. He hoped it was latter because he needed the forgetful bliss alcohol could provide. The worst part was, he was part of the reason Camille was gone.

“Bloody hell,” he murmured under his breath as the memories replayed in his mind. She’d come to him for help but he’d turned her away. Why had he done that? He knew the reason of course, but it still made no sense to him. He’d been mired in his own difficulties and sure they were more important than whatever Camille was about to say.

The hurt in his sister’s eyes couldn’t be measured and he’d instantly regretted his choice. They always helped each other. He’d allowed his own hurt and anger to cloud his feelings.

His head dropped into his hands as the memories continued to plague him. Where was that whisky? That was the last time he’d seen her, before she’d disappeared. Not six months later, their father had passed away. He’d become the Duke of Pennington but even his title couldn’t help him find her.

In fact, he’d found it a hindrance, particularly in places such as this. So he’d posed as a commoner, to try and gain any information he could. He’d traced her to the docks from a nearby tavern, The Kicking Horse. But that was as far as he’d gotten. He believed her ship had sailed to France but he’d been unable to find anyone who could confirm it and her trail had gone cold.

So he’d returned to the last place that he knew she had been, The Kicking Horse.

By all accounts, she hadn’t been here against her will. In fact, the tavern wench who’d seen her said she’d been with a man and they’d been happy, smiling at one another. It gave him some consolation, though he missed her.

A new serving girl weaved her way through the crowd, her tray unsteady. He assumed she was new, anyhow. She had that look like she was unsure of what was happening around her. Her eyes were wide as her feet stumbled about, trying to avoid patrons.

He felt a pang of sympathy. She was lovely, really, with her dark hair pulled back at the nape and wide blue eyes that seemed to beg for someone to save her. As with all tavern wenches, she showed a fair amount of bosom and while it wasn’t overly large, it appeared exactly right for fitting into a man’s hand.

He shook his head. Christ, he had to slow down on the whisky if he was ogling some poor girl. He blinked to clear his vision but he couldn’t help but look at her again as she stopped just next to him and began to serve drinks to the fellows beside him.

Her back was to him but he grudgingly noted the tininess of her waist and the perfect lines of her neck as silky tresses brushed down it. He gave himself another shake. He’d never been a man to indulge himself in the pleasure of women. He’d kept his dalliances few and far between. Not that he didn’t have his share of female attention. But he found it sordid, distracting him from more meaningful pursuits.

The one time he’d fallen in love, she’d only proven what a distraction affection truly was. Sarah had not only broken his heart, she’d clouded his judgment. He’d never forgive himself.

The serving girl made to leave but one of the men at the table stopped her. “What’s yer rush?” He crassly grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into his lap. “Ye just got here.”

He could see her trying to push away. “There are a great many customers and I—”

There was no mistaking her accent. It was as refined as her looks. But what would a woman of grace being doing serving in a place like this?

“Don’t ye sound lovely.” The man holding her captive spoke Theo’s thought aloud. “I’ve always wanted a woman like you under me.”

With those words, she jerked away, knocking into the table, as the freshly poured drinks tipped wildly. Theo was up before he could think too much and caught the table, righting it. But the drinks did not recover as well and several spilled, crashing to the floor.

She jumped back as the liquid soaked her, bumping into him. Without thought he wrapped his free hand around her waist. “I’ve got you,” he whispered close to her ear.

She turned back to him then, as those wide blue eyes stared into his, her mouth forming an O. For just a second, he pressed her closer and she felt like nothing he’d ever held before. Then he tucked her behind him.

The men at the table stood. “You idiot,” the man who’d just held her roared. “Yer paying fer those drinks.”

The others grumbled in agreement and Theo let go of the table, standing straighter. “You should have kept your hands to yourself.”

“Stay out of it.” The man stepped closer, waving his finger in Theo’s face. “It’s not your concern.”

“I disagree.” Theo began just as the man swung his fist directly at Theo’s face. He side-stepped the blow. Rather impressive, he thought to himself considering the amount of whisky he’d consumed, and gave the man a quick fist to the gut.

He doubled over even as one his compatriots came at Theo. Readying himself for the fight, he didn’t have a chance. A very large man grabbed him and the would-be assailant by the collars of their shirts. “That’s enough.” His voice boomed, silencing the noise around them. “All of you out.” Then he looked over Theo’s shoulder. “And you are fired. Leave with ‘em.”

He heard a soft gasp that turned into a choking noise from just behind him. She’d been fired. What was worse, they’d all be tossed out on the street together. Theo would have to continue this fight outside or leave her to their whims.

He’d two pistols holstered under his coat, but he’d prefer not to have to use them. So giving the incredibly large innkeeper his best smile, he pulled out several pounds from his waist coat. “We’ll happily leave. Here is money for the damages and another round of drinks for these fine gentleman. The fault was not theirs.”

The innkeeper fisted the coin and nodded to another wench to serve the drinks. Without another thought, Theo reached back and grabbed the woman’s hand, pulling her out of the inn and onto the dark street. Fortunately, his carriage was just outside, his driver being of the highest quality and before she could say a word, he was pushing her into his carriage. Then he climbed in and snapped the door shut.

“Sir,” her strangled protest caught him by surprise. “What do you mean to do with me?”

He blinked several times. “I meant to remove you safely from those hooligans.”

“Fair enough,” she huffed a breath. “But what then?”

* * *

Lady Ella McIntire sat across from this total stranger in his dark carriage and took a calming breath. He didn’t seem to want to hurt her. But what did he want from her? What would happen to her tonight? And if she made it through this, what was to come of her the next night and the night after that and after that?

She had no one in this world. Her father had passed month ago, and finally having run out of pin money, she managed to secure that job, though she wasn’t entirely certain how. But it had been all that stood between her and a workhouse and now it was gone.

“What then? Those men won’t attack you. They won’t…” He let his words trail off. “You were in distress.”

He was right of course. She had no desire to be that man’s or any man’s whore. But honestly, she was running out of options. She had to eat, and it was preferable to do so with some sort of shelter. “That job was all that I had.”

“I see,” he rubbed his eyes, using the heel of his hands. The carriage was dark but she could still tell that all of this troubled him. “You’re not a commoner. How can that be?”

She swallowed. Might as well tell him as much of the truth as she dared. There was little point in hiding it. “My father passed a month ago with substantial debt. I was only able to keep enough from the debtors to support myself for as many weeks. I had only just gotten that job as a means to keep myself fed.”

His hands dropped. “Surely there is something else you could do?”

She shrugged. “I could be a governess or a tutor but they require a recommendation and I have none.”

“I see,” he said again.

Which was his way of not saying anything really, she supposed. A tiredness made her shoulders droop. Tonight everything appeared absolutely hopeless. “What do you mean to do with me?” she asked again.

His hands dropped from his eyes but he said nothing as he stared at her. “I don’t intend to do anything with you.”

Relief made her sink against the seat, but it was momentary. She had no food, no place to go as she had no coin, no one to help her. She cleared her throat then. “You are not in need of any services are you?”

“Services?” his strangled voice filled the carriage.

Oh dear, had he thought she meant something illicit? “A maid or a cook? Do you have children? I could tutor them. I am well-versed in several languages including Latin and French.”

“French?” he repeated with a note of excitement.

“Mais oui, monsieur,” she replied with her best French accent.

“Can you converse in French?” he asked then.

“Of course,” she leaned forward in her seat, excitement filing her for the first time in a month. “Do you know someone in need of tutoring?”

“Oh no, of course not.” He shook his head and then wrapped on the carriage wall to get the driver’s attention. “Return to my lodgings at once,” he shouted. The driver snapped the reigns as the carriage picked up speed.

Ella nearly fell back in her seat but just caught herself. Oh dear, she thought again. Truly, what did he intend to do with her?

Want to read more?

Coming soon:

My Duke’s Desire

My Earl’s Enchantment

Earl of Dryden

The Earl of Coventry also plays a major role in this story and Earl of Sussex. But he is an important character is another’s author’s book. Earl of Harrington by Dawn Brower features the Earl of Coventry as his daughter marries.