Marquess of Diamonds: Lords of Scandal Read online

  MARQUESS OF DIAMONDS

  LORDS OF SCANDAL

  TAMMY ANDRESEN

  SWIFT ROMANCE PUBLISHING CORP

  Copyright © 2022 by Tammy Andresen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Queen of Hearts

  Other Titles by Tammy

  About the Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  Lady Abigail Williams sat on the settee in her parlor ready for her dear friend, Lady Daisy, to arrive. Anticipation made her clasp and unclasp her hands as she attempted not to fidget. Her mother despised fidgeting.

  The afternoon sun streamed in through the windows warming the room. It was a delightful day to see an old friend.

  And even better because Lady Daisy Longrove had had some delicious experiences to share that Abigail couldn’t even dream of. But she’d like to. She sighed. Dream that is.

  She placed her hands over her heart as she considered her friend.

  Daisy had very recently become engaged to the Duke of Danesbury, which was the only reason her mother had permitted her to have Daisy for this visit.

  Not a fortnight ago, her mother had insisted that Abigail cut all ties with Daisy. Odd, how her friend becoming engaged to a duke changed everything, including the course of their friendship.

  Abigail wondered if her mother would be so forgiving of her own daughter if Abigail should step out in such a way. Not that she ever could. Her mother had the sharp vision of a bird of prey.

  And big plans for her only daughter.

  “Now,” her mother said from just behind her. “We won’t even hint that we’re aware of Lady Daisy’s past scandal.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Past scandal? Was that what they were calling it? Daisy and a known rake—and fortune hunter—had been caught kissing in the garden at Lady Westmoreland’s ball. Her older brother had refused the man’s suit and then his best friend, the Duke of Danesbury, had swept in, offering for Daisy himself and saving her from certain ruin.

  Was it just Abigail or did the entire thing sound terribly romantic?

  Like a story she might read in a book…

  At least one of the books she kept tucked behind the headboard in her room so that her mother would not discover the titles. Not that they held anything truly scandalous, but even simple romances were frowned upon by her mother. She thought them trite.

  One of her blonde locks fell over her shoulder and she brushed it back, attempting not to sigh in longing.

  How she would love to participate in a story like that. Yes, she’d marry as her mother wished. Yes, she’d make a good match and be a dutiful wife and mother, but just once…

  A partial sigh escaped her lips. Just once she’d like to know what if felt like to be bad. A little.

  “I know,” her mother said, patting Abigail’s shoulder. “It’s difficult to think that such scandalous behavior on Daisy’s part is now going to be rewarded.”

  Abigail blinked, looking back at her mother. Still beautiful, her mother stood straight and tall behind Abigail, her blue eyes sparkling as she shook her head. Her mother had been engaged shortly after her first ball, to an earl no less, and the fact that Abigail had been through an entire season without an offer grated.

  Well, not to Abigail.

  She’d been mostly relieved.

  She’d had interest from at least a few suitors. But her mother insisted that Abigail needed to work on the delicate art of appropriate flirting. Whatever that was.

  Abigail refrained from saying that in order for her to flirt, she had to actually hold some interest in the fellow she was flirting with. Her mother didn’t wish to hear it and would only chastise Abigail’s naïve nature. Abigail might also point out that flirting was what Daisy was likely doing when she was pulled out to the garden, but she didn’t utter those words either.

  With her mother, it was best to say as little as possible.

  The door opened and their butler escorted Daisy inside the room.

  Abigail stood, beaming at Daisy as she held out her hands to her friend. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Her mother sniffed behind her as Daisy reached her, and the two embraced. “I’m glad too,” Daisy answered quietly. “I’ve so much to tell you.”

  And Abigail wanted to hear all of it. Every word. Just as soon as she could get her mother out of the room.

  Abigail linked her arm with Daisy’s. “It’s such a fine day. Perhaps we should stroll about the park.”

  She gave her mother a quick glance, noting her mother’s wrinkled nose. “In the sun?” The older woman asked with the slightest huff punctuating the last word.

  Her mother swore that keeping her face out of the sun’s rays would ensure her skin remained young and vibrant. If her mother’s skin was evidence, then it was true. But still, Abigail enjoyed the warmth after a long, cold English winter. “We’ll wear our sunbonnets,” Abigail assured her mother with a smile.

  “It’s good to see you, Lady Hamilton,” Daisy said with a curtsey.

  “And you, Lady Daisy,” her mother replied. “Soon to be Her Grace.”

  Daisy blushed, pink filling her cheeks.

  Her mother stepped forward, her gaze sweeping down Daisy. “You do sparkle, dear. You always have.” Then she looked at her own daughter. “My Abby could use some of that magic. Perhaps you could help her.”

  Daisy’s brows shot up as Abigail started in surprise. Her mother didn’t wish for her to act like Daisy…did she?

  Abigail had spent her entire life sitting up straight, smiling politely, sipping tea demurely, as she played the pianoforte with practiced ease. She’d been groomed to perfection.

  And Daisy had landed her duke by being…well…less than perfect. Quite the opposite really.

  And while Abigail privately delighted in Daisy’s victory, surely her mother did not. Every other word she’d uttered on the topic had been condemning.

  Abigail’s brows lifted as she linked arms with Daisy, pulling her back toward the front door.

  They stopped for their sun hats, Abigail dutifully tying her ribbon under her chin before they made their way outside. Their Mayfair address afforded them lovely views of the park and as they entered the gate and started down the path, Abigail plucked at the ribbons once again, removing the bonnet.

  “Abby,” Daisy said with a laugh. “Careful or you’ll freckle.”

  Abigail sighed at the truth of those words. Her skin was so pale, it freckled easily. “Why must I show evidence of every tiny indiscretion?”

  Daisy squeezed her hand. “You’re a sweet person who’s kind and honest. Duplicity is not in your nature.”

  Abigail wrinkled her nose. “I’m boring. That’s what I am. Which means you must tell me every exciting thing that’s happened to you over the last month. I need to live vicariously through you.”

  Daisy laughed as they started down a sid
e path, winding and tree-lined. In hushed tones, she told Abigail about Lord Edgemere’s kiss and the Duke of Danesbury’s intervention. But the story didn’t end there. She went on to tell Abigail how the duke had wooed her, convinced her that Daisy’s heart and hand should be his.

  Abigail sighed, touching her heart. “Oh Daisy, how wonderful.”

  Daisy gave her a rueful smile. “It didn’t always feel wonderful. In fact, there were times where I was shaking in my shoes with worry. And then there was my brother. We’re still recovering from the terrible disagreement we had.”

  The Marquess of Hartwell. Abigail felt her insides flutter as she pictured the dashing lord. She’d met him once, not that he was likely to remember her.

  He’d barely glanced at her as they’d been introduced.

  But she remembered him. Tall, dark, brooding, and handsome.

  He was the stuff of dreams. Fantasies.

  “But you are recovering?”

  Daisy nodded. “I think so. Slowly.” Her friend really frowned for the first time since she’d arrived. “He’s so stubborn. And unruly,” Daisy said staring off into the park.

  And dreamy. Abigail sat on a nearby bench, covering her heart. “He just needs the right woman to soften him and teach him to compromise.” She could write a book about compromising, as she’d done it all her life. Always following her mother’s rules.

  Daisy shook her head. “Perhaps,” she said, then came to sit next to Abigail. “That’s how it’s been with His Grace but with Hart…” Daisy wrinkled her nose and then let out a long breath. “He hardly spends any time with women of quality. Not even me. I’m not sure he even remembers what to do with one.”

  Something inside Abigail’s chest fluttered. She swallowed down a lump. “Perhaps I could be of service.”

  Daisy scrunched her brows. “How so?”

  Abigail shrugged. “My mother says that I didn’t receive any offers because I’m not a practiced enough flirt.”

  Daisy tsked. “You just didn’t meet the right man. That’s all.”

  Abigail smiled, appreciating the sentiment. “Still. I could use some practice with gentlemen and sounds like your brother could use some too.”

  Daisy sat back on the bench. “It’s not a bad plan except for one small detail.”

  “What is it?” Abigail asked, spinning to face her friend. “Tell me.”

  “Hart is opposed to anything that’s actually good for him.”

  Abigail’s mouth twitched. “Perhaps you should present it to him as though it were bad. Very, very bad.”

  Daisy’s brows shot up. “Abigail. I do believe that that is a marvelous idea and so devious coming from you. What’s happened to the woman I’ve known all these years?”

  Abigail only smiled outwardly, but inwardly she answered. She was tired of doing everything exactly right. She wanted just a bit of bad too. And the Marquess of Hartwell? He was perfect for the task.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Hart sat at his desk at the Den of Sins and cursed a good string as he stared at the books in front of him.

  They were dismal.

  His nickname at the club was the Marquess of Diamonds. It was meant as a joke, mostly. Hart had a reputation for being rather surly. Even more so of late.

  A thief had been systematically stealing from them. Large sums that had massively cut into the profits of his illicit gaming hell.

  What the hell he was doing all this for if he was losing money?

  He’d invested in this place as a way to make enough to embark on a legitimate venture into a diamond mine in India. The mine was meant to be a boon to his marquessate. A way to put money away for any lean years ahead.

  He’d had a few in the past. Ones that had nearly hurt the people who depended on him, and he wouldn’t allow that to happen again.

  He let out a frustrated growl. Owning a gaming hell was also meant as an outlet for his less-than-proper tendencies.

  What he’d gotten was a whole lot of trouble and not much else.

  He raked a tired hand through his hair.

  Which led him back to his current batch of problems. His best friend Chance was supposed to be helping him. But Chance had gone and gotten engaged to Hart’s sister, Daisy.

  The man was completely smitten and had all but forgotten about the club.

  Then there was East. He’d travelled to Dover to try and get answers from the former owners, but he’d come back empty-handed and acting odd.

  Arabella, the boldest woman Hart had ever known, had been a great asset but there were some things she just couldn’t do, and tracking a thief through the dirt and grime of London was one of them.

  It was just too dangerous, even as adept with knives as Arabella was.

  Which left Hart to complete the bulk of the investigation.

  They had a few new partners, too. A Scot named Lockton and a baron they’d nicknamed Clubs. Ace rounded out the new men and Hart liked all of them, but he didn’t know any of them well enough to really trust them.

  Which left him holding a steaming bag of dung.

  He growled out. Why did Chance have to go and get all soft on him? Sure, he could marry Daisy. It made his sister a duchess and kept her out of the clutches of the Baron of Edgemere, disaster that he was.

  But did that mean that Chance had to rewrite every priority? Though the man looked…happy. Lighter and less haggard than he had in years.

  Not that Hart was fooled. Sure, Chance looked better off now, but give him a few years of marriage and babies, and Chance would want illicit adventure once again. Wouldn’t he?

  They’d chosen this life for a reason. A life of loose women, heavy drinking, and gambling because they weren’t meant for happily-ever-afters and staid lifestyles.

  Hart looked at the small room that surrounded him. So much for adventure. There was nothing fun about this.

  All he’d done is redouble his responsibilities.

  He stood, then stretched his back as Lockton appeared in the open doorway. “You look chipper.”

  Hart grimaced, knowing full well he looked like hell.

  He’d spent half the night trying to track Sir Thomas.

  The fifth man they’d brought in as a partner, he’d been quiet and more withdrawn than the other men. Not that his personality bothered Hart. There was nothing wrong with keeping to oneself.

  But after they’d caught a petty thief at the tables, he’d identified Sir Thomas as his employer. The man who’d put him up to the job of theft.

  Sir Thomas hadn’t been seen since that night, though Hart had been trying to track him down.

  With a frustrated growl, Hart barked at Lockton. “You look like a rose in full bloom yourself.”

  Lockton, nicknamed the King of Thieves, as a nod to his penchant for security, gave Hart a rare smile. “I smell about as sweet too.”

  A chuckle floated up Hart’s throat. He liked the man. “You smell more like the docks to me.”

  Lockton canted his head. “I’ve got a friend who runs a scratch boxing club. Went down there because two nights ago, our friend, Sir Thomas was there, betting on a fight.”

  Hart straightened, his brows lifting. “You jest.”

  “I don’t,” Lockton said, then chuckled. “And what’s more. It’s a club that he frequents. Which means, I say we go back to the place every night until he returns.”

  Hart nodded his approval, some of the tension in his shoulders relaxing. Perhaps they’d get this case solved sooner than he’d thought and then he could go back to accomplishing his two goals.

  Would that lessen the knot of tension that sat in his stomach, making him tired?

  “Clubs can go tonight, ye look like you need a rest.”

  “Thank you,” Hart grunted as he ran a hand through his hair once again. Was he making a mistake trusting the new men? His exhaustion made him too tired to dwell on the subject.

  Lockton stepped into the room, holding out a sealed slip of parchment. “This came for ye.”

>   Hart grimaced, taking the paper from his hand, noting the seal was from Chance. But as he ripped open the page, it was Daisy’s handwriting that met his gaze. Perhaps having his sister become a duchess was a mistake after all. Now she could use the ducal seal to summon him at will, which was exactly what she was doing.

  She needed to see him right away about a matter of some urgency at Chance’s home. She’d await him there.

  Letting out another string of curses, he heard Lockton laugh.

  “Good news?”

  “My sister,” he muttered, scrubbing his face. “Are you interested in a bride? I think arranging a match between her and Chance was a mistake.”

  Lockton’s thick brows lifted. “And face the ire of the Duke of Danesbury? Ye must think me a mad egit.” Then Lockton disappeared again as Hart donned his coat. Might as well get this meeting over with.

  But as he nodded off in his carriage, he wondered if perhaps he should have gone home first. He was damned tired and weary to the bone.

  And the morning only got worse as he entered Chance’s foyer to find Chance standing next to Daisy, his arm possessively around her waist. Their wedding was just a few days away and Daisy and their aunt practically lived at Chance’s house as they made all the final preparations.

  He stopped well short of them, likely glowering. “You summoned?”

  Daisy lifted her nose higher in the air. “I requested.”

  Chance narrowed his gaze as he shifted Daisy closer.

  Like Daisy needed protection from her own brother.

  Granted, the arguments between siblings had grown rather heated since the incident with Edgemere, but still. He loved Daisy. Even after the death of their parents when he’d sent her to their aunt’s instead of keeping her with him, he’d done so because he truly thought it best.