Baron of Clubs: Lords of Scandal

  BARON OF CLUBS

  LORDS OF SCANDAL

  TAMMY ANDRESEN

  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

  Epilogue

  Earl of Spades

  Other Titles by Tammy

  About the Author

  Keep up with all the latest news, sales, freebies, and releases by joining my newsletter!

  * * *

  www.tammyandresen.com

  * * *

  Hugs!

  CHAPTER ONE

  The loud thump on the wall was the first indication that something had gone very wrong out in the hall. Had a maid knocked over a vase?

  Lady Elizabeth Stanton sat up straighter in her chair. The maid pinning her hair stopped too, turning toward the door. Lizzie couldn’t remember her name. She’d only arrived at the beautifully appointed but intimate home of Miss Arabella White in the wee hours the night before.

  A friend of her brother’s, Arabella had offered to allow them to stay because…

  Well, that was complicated.

  Lizzie suspected that Arabella and her brother were in love. Complication one. Especially considering her brother was an earl without a cent to his name. He needed to marry an heiress and Arabella, nice as this home was, most definitely did not have the sort of money her brother needed.

  At least part of the reason he needed those funds was to help Lizzie wed as well. Mostly because they had no money to provide her with a dowry. But also because her brother seemed determined to keep her in a protective bubble, so she’d not been allowed into society at all with the exception of a single ball.

  The confines her brother had placed around her after their parents’ death had been a great comfort at first. But more and more often of late, she felt as though she might burst if she did not escape them.

  Which was why the ball had been so thrilling…until Baron Purewater had arrived.

  He was a tall man, thickly muscled with the sort of brooding stare that spoke of mysterious secrets and a dangerous past.

  And when he looked at her, her stomach twisted in fits of fear every time. Something about him frightened her half to death.

  But she digressed.

  Her brother had fallen in love with a woman that, if he married her, would likely mean that Lizzie couldn’t marry at all.

  She winced to think of her brother marrying another woman, a woman he didn’t love, for Lizzie’s good. The situation was impossible and meant only one of them got to happily wed. Her or Reginald. It couldn’t be both.

  Another thump interrupted her thoughts, and she stood, realizing that the noise wasn’t another vase crashing to the floor.

  Last night, her brother, Reginald, had arrived home in the middle of the night and explained that he’d been attacked by thieves. Even worse, he worried for their safety still and so he’d brought her to Miss Arabella’s residence as an act of protection.

  But as another crash echoed just outside the door, she didn’t think his choice had worked.

  In fact, she was certain danger had followed them here.

  The maid screamed, clutching at Lizzie just as pistol fire boomed through the house.

  Lizzie might have screamed too. She couldn’t be certain.

  But as yells and fighting sounded in the hall, she held the other woman as they both sank to the floor.

  She could die here never having done a thing.

  Her heart pounded in her chest as fears she hadn’t realized she’d even had before now danced before her eyes. She’d be tucked away forever, like a flower in a greenhouse that never feels the wind.

  With that she rose, lifting the maid with her. With a small shove, she pushed the woman toward the chair. If she was going to die, her last act would be brave…

  With that thought she pushed herself toward the door and wrenched it open. She had no idea what she might find or how she might help, but she’d face death the way she’d never lived.

  Her gaze swept over the scene. A man lay on the floor, her brother held Arabella in his arms, and Baron Purewater stood next to them, larger than life. His sandy hair looked windswept as his hazel eyes pierced into hers.

  In an instant, he’d crossed to her, broad shoulders filling her view. Had he just fired the gun? Was he here to steal her away?

  She shivered in fear. That was fear wasn’t it, as he looked down at her and uttered the first words she’d ever heard him speak. His voice was so deep and masculine it only added to his air of power. “Are you all right?”

  “I…I…I’m fine.”

  He stepped farther into the room, his body nearly touching hers. A part of her hesitated. This man unsettled her. “You’re certain?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  He leaned down closer and squeezed her fingers. “Lizzie.”

  How did he even know her nickname? Her breath caught as her chin tilted up, her body trembling all over. “Yes?”

  “If you ever need anything. If anyone attacks again…” Then he stopped, pressing a card into her palm. “I’ll help you.”

  “Help me?”

  “Anything.”

  “Anything?” She shook her head to try and make her mind work. What was he offering precisely? And why did she even care? Of course, she’d not take him up on it. She couldn’t.

  But despite her fear, some wild plan began to form.

  Reginald needed to marry the woman of his choice.

  And Lizzie…she needed to escape. Not just the danger. No, deeper, way down, she needed more. More from life. Adventure. A chance to really live.

  Her brother Reginald crashed into the room. “What’s happening here?”

  Lizzie blinked, then looked at her brother. She knew least of all what had transpired, but as her brother hustled her out of a room for the second time in less than a day, she glanced back at the baron.

  Dangerously handsome and frightening beyond measure, he’d also just made a blanket offer to aid her.

  How far did that offer extend and did she dare find out…

  Colton Grey, Baron Purewater, watched the flames of the fire dance as he sipped the whisky in his hand.

  He’d barely slept, having been up all night chasing the thieves who had plagued the Den of Sins, the Gaming Hell in which he’d recently become a partner He should be exhausted, but his thoughts would not quiet.

  Arabella, the only female owner of the club, had hired the Earl of Edgemere, Edge, to help root out the men stealing from them, and he’d been doing an admirable job.

  The problem…

  Now the thieves were after the earl. And his family too. Even his beautiful and fragile sister, Elizabeth.

  Lizzie.

  The name made him straighten away from the fire.

  From the first moment he’d seen her a fortnight ago, she’d called to him on some primal level, pulling him toward her like a moth to a flame.

  Perhaps it was her wide-e
yed stare, her gaze the color of melted chocolate. It might have been her delicate features brushed with the sort of pale pink that looked too perfect to be real, or maybe it was the fullness of her mouth.

  But whatever the reason, meeting her had felt like a punch in the gut.

  His reaction had been immediate and violent. It had sucked all the air from his lungs and stolen his voice. He was a man who normally kept silent because he didn’t want relationships with anyone. They only led to hurt and heartbreak. But suddenly, he couldn’t speak if he tried. She’d tied his tongue.

  He tried to keep up his façade of practiced indifference, but when her gaze skittered from his, he knew that she knew…

  Lizzie turned him into jelly.

  He growled, tossing the rest of the drink into the fire even as he swiped an angry hand through his hair.

  He’d made a life for himself remaining apart from people. Separate.

  He never relied on anyone, and no one counted on him. Ever.

  Colton frowned. After he’d left home, refusing his father’s support at the age of eighteen, he’d been too busy just providing the basics of living to care about frivolities. Not that he’d minded that life, it had been honest and forthright. Unlike his father who’d been as morally bankrupt as he was cruel. But somewhere along the way, being alone became his armor.

  He wore it well.

  Which made this obvious attraction a damned nuisance.

  Still, obtaining a wife held certain advantages.

  He’d need an heir to carry on his title as the baron. And while he didn’t have personal relationships, he took his duty to the barony, the people who depended on him, seriously. With the attraction he felt toward Lizzie, she’d be a good candidate. He could provide the barony with an heir and work out the itch she’d caused. Once scratched…

  He knew she didn’t have a dowry and her brother wanted to marry Arabella. Would Edge allow him to court his sister?

  How the hell did he do that? He had no experience with courtship, hadn’t lived as a lord of the realm for a decade.

  He turned and headed for the buffet where the liquor was kept, then refilled the very glass he’d just tossed into the grate.

  He couldn’t make up his mind on anything.

  Whether to have a drink.

  Whether or not to pursue Lizzie. He didn’t actually have a good record where ladies in need were concerned. Despite his best intentions, whenever he became involved in a woman’s life, things tended to go very wrong. But he couldn’t deny the pull Lizzie had over him. And then there was the offer he’d made today…

  A knock sounded at the door, his butler entering. “My lord.” The man gave a short bow. “You’ve a visitor.”

  “Now?” It had to be after midnight. Besides, no one visited him ever.

  “That’s right. She…” the butler leaned forward, “claims it’s an emergency and that she’s come with your express permission.”

  Need crashed into him like waves on the shore. Lizzie.

  He didn’t even bother to wait, setting the drink aside, he strode past the butler and made his way to the entry where, sure enough, Lizzie stood in the entry, a trunk behind her.

  A trunk.

  Her hands trembled, and her eyes went wide.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to leave London,” she whispered.

  “What’s happened?”

  She shook her head. “You said you’d help me earlier tonight.”

  “I did.”

  “Would you…if I asked,” she swallowed, shrinking down lower, “would you consider marrying me?”

  Satisfaction rippled through him and his answer popped out of his mouth before he even had a chance to think it through. “Yes.”

  Her eyes grew impossibly wide as she sat on the very trunk she’d somehow gotten into his entry. “I didn’t actually think you’d say yes.”

  But his mind had begun to work again. The details of a plan forming. “If you need to leave and we’re to wed, that makes our destination rather obvious.”

  “Does it?”

  “Gretna Green.” Occasionally, life handed a man the perfect solution. If they eloped, he’d not have to court her at all. No worry about socially acceptable behavior. Hell, he’d not even have to worry about messy feelings getting in the way. He’d be wed inside the week.

  She rose again, her eyes so wide, she looked like a frightened doe. “All the way to Scotland? I’ve never left England…”

  “You said you needed to go.”

  “I…” She swallowed again, her spine straightening. “I do. I’m ready.”

  He turned back to the butler who’d followed. “Pack my things. We’ll leave inside the hour.”

  Decision made. Simple.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Lizzie attempted to hold her seat as the carriage gave a wild pitch, one of its wheels surely bouncing in and then out of yet another rut. But even holding the leather strap fastened to the ceiling with a white-knuckled grip, Lizzie’s bottom lifted well off the bench and then smacked back down as a decidedly unladylike grunt erupted from her lips.

  It had been like this for the last two hours at least. Having left in the dead of night with nothing but a small parcel of clothing, they’d started on their journey.

  Their journey…

  The two words shivered through her as she looked at the man sitting across from her. The sky had just begun to lighten, but the interior of the carriage was still largely cast in shadow. Still, she could feel the intensity of his stare, his penetrating hazel eyes sending a shiver down her spine.

  Or was that just her memory? Surely, she couldn’t actually see the color in the dark?

  Baron Purewater. Never had a name suited a man less.

  Even now, her heart sped up as she looked at his shadowy figure on the other side of the carriage.

  Her future husband.

  Her thrumming pulse sped even faster. What had she done?

  “You should sit next to me,” he said, the low timber of his voice pulling a squeak from her throat. “I could keep you from pitching so much.”

  “I…I’m fine,” she murmured, pushing farther into the corner to try and mitigate the bouncing. And possibly move a bit farther from him.

  The roads shouldn’t have been this rutted. They still travelled close to London, where the condition of the roads was usually better. They had days to go before they reached Gretna Green. But the recent rain had likely washed away much of the gravel and the darkness prevented the driver from swinging around the holes…

  They hit another, sending her flying up in the air and wildly swinging her arms out. Generally considered petite, Lizzie wasn’t the strongest person physically, and as she sailed through the air tethered with nothing but the strap her hand had looped through, she knew her body was likely to slam back against the seat. Even well-cushioned as the bench was, the contact would bruise.

  Her body arched and then began the swing again, her breath drawing in with a hiss.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, tensing for the smack her backside was about to take.

  Instead, a large hand flattened on the small of her back, seeming to suspend her in midair.

  She opened her eyes wide, surprise drawing her mouth into a small O as she stared at her rescuer. This close, the particular mesmerizing shade of his eyes, the thin straight nose, lean cheeks, and square jaw were clearly visible, and her gaze roved over them, seeming to drink in the sight. There was something so…arresting about his face. Her stomach gave a wild flutter with his proximity. “Th-th-thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said in that same low, flat tone that made her wonder what he was thinking. Did he feel? At all? Ever?

  Still holding her aloft halfway between the seat and the arc of her bounce. He swung around her, then sat on her bench and lowered her back to the seat.

  He had the look of a man with physical prowess, but she had to blink at just how smoothly he’d enacted all those moves in s
uch a small space. He had neither appeared awkward nor cramped and as he pulled her tightly against his side. She placed a hand to his chest.

  Her intent was to keep some space between them but as her fingers landed on his hard pectoral muscle, she automatically flexed her fingers, noting the firm, masculine shape of the muscle. She swallowed down a lump. “You…you needn’t sit with me. I’m fine.”

  The truth was, despite the fact that she’d asked to elope with this man, she wasn’t entirely certain she trusted him still. He was a stranger and an often silent and brooding one at that.

  A fact that likely made her plan ill-advised.

  And then there was her brother. Was he worried sick? She winced at the idea of hurting him. She’d truly wished to help both herself and him.

  Purewater frowned at her, his hand remaining at her back. “Don’t be ridiculous. You look like a ribbon on a maypole.”

  Very true.

  But his words, delivered in that same flat, gravelly tone, coupled with his frown made the knot of apprehension in her belly tighten.

  She barely knew this man. And while his physical pull stole her breath, his constant frown and unnerving eyes made her…uncomfortable. Nervous even.

  And honestly, a bit intimidated.

  All well and good, in theory.

  But as she stared at the Baron of Purewater, his face only inches from hers, the hard lines of his body pressed to her much softer, weaker form, and she resisted the urge to shrink away.

  Hopefully, she hadn’t made a terrible mistake.

  Colton looked down at the vulnerable beauty currently encased against his side by way of a single arm and clenched his jaw even tighter than it had been the past several hours.