Duke of Chance: Lords of Scandal Page 2

  Had she made a terrible mistake or jumped into her future with both feet?

  Chance recounted the coins on the abacus, carefully subtracting any payouts. Hart had been right. They were short.

  “What the hell happened?” Chance asked, raking a hand through his hair as he looked at the coins again.

  They’d only been operating the Den of Sins a few weeks, but the tally always came out. “Is it a fluke?”

  “Being this short?” Hart asked, frowning down at the table. “It’s a large sum to be a mistake.”

  Chance nodded, scrubbing his face.

  Arabella came to stand at his other shoulder. “There were a lot of different men poking around operations tonight.”

  Chance growled out his frustration as he pressed his hand flat on the table. “Well, that’s a disconcerting thought if one of the men we’re thinking of making a partner helped himself to the pot.”

  East shook his head. “We can’t make that assumption. We’ll choose the men we planned to choose, and each of us will pick one to train. We’ll also monitor him until we figure out this shortage.”

  Chance nodded. It was a good idea. East, despite looking like he could be a bareknuckle boxer, was smart as a whip. Always had been. “East, can you count today’s take again? I trust you more than myself.”

  East nodded. “Of course. Arabella, would you mind helping?”

  “Not at all.” The two sat down, carefully going through the numbers again.

  Chance stood, stretching his back. He hated the mistake, but East’s plan would hopefully keep them from experiencing additional losses. They’d watch the staff and the new co-owners carefully. Perhaps he’d increase the guard, have men keeping track of all the tables.

  Hart scrubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll say one thing. Being out late is a whole lot more difficult when it isn’t for fun.”

  Chance smiled at that. It was true. A quick glance at his pocket watch told him that it was near two in the morning. “We’ll be in our beds soon enough.”

  Hart nodded. “I begin to understand why no lords hold onto this place for any length of time, despite the amount of money it makes.”

  Chance’s grin spread wider. “The last round of men ended up settling down. You’re not thinking of succumbing to the marriage noose, are you?”

  Hart shook his head. “You know I’m not. My sister and my aunt are the only women I can handle in my life at the moment. And even they’re too much at times.”

  Chance slapped his friend on the back.

  As a man who was nearing thirty, the thought had crossed his mind more and more often of late. Not as a temptation, or even resigned determination. The feeling was more like sick dread.

  Ultimately, he’d have to get married.

  As a duke, he needed to secure his line, but damn, he hated the idea. He’d been married once already. Not a state he wished to repeat.

  But he didn’t have a choice. He needed an heir and he wasn’t getting any younger. He had some time yet, but eventually, he’d have to wed no matter how distasteful he found the state of matrimony.

  He sighed, Hart giving him a long look. “What bothers you? The idea that I suffer in the care of Daisy, or that you’ll have to marry again at some point?”

  Chance looked away. His friend knew him too well.

  He hadn’t seen Daisy in years, not since her parents’ funeral when she’d been no more than twelve. He’d been dealing with his own loss at the time, and then he, Hart, and East had fallen into a pattern of spending time together in less-respectable venues.

  “How old is Daisy now?”

  “Nineteen.” Hart grimaced. “And, unfortunately for me, she’s turned into quite the beauty.”

  Chance raised his brows. Daisy had been cute enough as a girl. She had Hart’s same dark hair and deep brown eyes. But a beauty? He could hardly believe it. Still, he didn’t contradict his friend. “Attractive and rich. I can see how that would be a problem.”

  Hart scowled, ignoring Chance’s last comment. “I know we’re just starting on the club and now this.” He waved at the coins. “And we’ve got the new men to train, but honestly, my aunt has reported that the Baron of Edgemere has been sniffing about her. I don’t like it.”

  Chance stood up straighter. Even among rakes the man had a reputation. “Edgemere?” The man was a devil. And the idea of little Daisy being trampled by such a rogue rankled. And trampled she would be. He was handsome as sin, to hear the ladies tell it, and just as unscrupulous. There were dark rumors swirling about the man. Rumors that surely made Hart nervous. “What would a man like that even want with the likes of Daisy?”

  Hart shook his head. “Let me see. Well-connected, sizable dowry, and honestly, Chance,” he said, swiping his brow, “she looks like a brown-haired angel. I’m her brother and I can’t even believe it. Which is why I know exactly what Edgemere is thinking. If he must marry, it might as well be with someone as lovely and sweet as Daisy.”

  Angel? Lovely? Daisy’s young round face rose from his memories. “Sweet?”

  A frown pulled at the corners of Hart’s mouth. “Still naïve and ridiculously optimistic. I wish I had a bit of positive outlook, though. Somewhere along the way, we’ve become rather jaded, haven’t we?”

  He opened his mouth to protest or ask for more information or…he wasn’t certain. But just as he did, a loud knock sounded at the door. “Who the hell could that be?”

  “I’ll find out,” one of the guards said as he crossed the room and called to the knocker. In a moment, he unbarred the door and let in a man.

  Dressed in servant’s livery, the footman made a beeline for Hart. “My lord,” the man gave a deep bow, “I’m sorry to bother you here but—”

  “How did you find me?” Hart growled out, his face taut with tension.

  Chance cocked his head as he listened to the exchange with even sharper interest. Was this one of Hart’s servants?

  “Your butler informed me.”

  Clearly not one of Hart’s.

  “And why did he do that?”

  “It’s an emergency, my lord. Your aunt told me not to return without you.”

  The room stilled as all eyes turned to the footman.

  “An emergency?” Hart repeated, color draining from his face.

  “Yes. With Lady Daisy.” And the man, bowing again, held out a letter.

  Hart snatched the parchment, and ripping it open, scanned the contents. “Bloody Christ,” he snarled as he shoved the paper at Chance.

  Chance took it and read down the hastily scrawled note.

  How odd.

  They’d just been talking about this very thing. And it would seem that Daisy had landed herself in a very large mess with the Baron of Edgemere.

  “I have to go,” Hart pushed out through clenched teeth.

  “I’ll come with you,” Chance said, looking back at East to ensure that he and Arabella had the club in hand. East gave a quick nod.

  “Come to my aunt’s? Why?” Hart was already charging to the back room to retrieve his coat and hat.

  “What if you need a second?”

  Hart came to a halt. “Good point. Because if that filthy piece of horseshit hurt Daisy, I’m going to tear him to shreds with my bare hands.”

  “Should I come too?” Arabella asked. “It occurs to me that Daisy may need a bit of support.”

  Hart’s hand sliced through the air. “Stay here. Secure the club. Chance and I will see to this.”

  “That’s going to go well,” Arabella muttered, but sat back down.

  Chance gave a nod, following behind Hart.

  Had his friend wished to go to bed? Their night was just beginning.

  Chapter Two

  Daisy sat at her dressing table, quietly brushing out her mass of brown curls. Several more pieces had come out of her coif and after an hour of uselessly attempting to tuck them back into her upsweep while her aunt paced and lectured and paced some more, she’d given up.

/>   She’d excused herself and retreated to the sanctuary of her room where she’d changed into a simple gown of pale pink, a shade she knew complimented her skin and then undid her hair, letting it fall loose about her shoulders.

  She might as well look good for whatever was about to befall her.

  Who knew when or if her brother would arrive tonight? If he didn’t arrive soon, she’d just go to bed and attempt to sleep.

  She doubted she do much of that either.

  For whatever reason, her confidence that she’d felt was crumbling, and she was beginning to worry…

  Well, first, that her brother might challenge the man she loved to a duel. What if she lost one of them because of this?

  That was truly dreadful, and the idea made her hand shake as the brush stroked down her hair.

  But even if Hart didn’t go that far, would he refuse the match?

  Her stomach fluttered as she thought of all the words her aunt had likely said in that missive.

  She should return downstairs in case he arrived. Try to mitigate the situation as best she could. Not that her aunt wouldn’t have her say. She most assuredly would.

  After setting down the brush, she rose from the chair, and started across the room when the door burst open.

  She stopped, swallowing a yelp of fear. Hart stood before her, looking as mad as she’d ever seen him in her life. For the first time, a bit of fear snaked down her spine. “Hart.”

  “What have you done?” He rumbled a near shout, taking long strides into the room.

  “I—” she started, her arms circling about her midriff.

  “How could you be such a fool?” he raged, his voice echoing off the walls.

  “I—”

  “Is there a possibility of a child?”

  “What? No!” she gasped, for the first time feeling a bit of her own anger. “Of course not. We only kissed.”

  “Only a kiss? Bah!” He slashed a hand through the air. “I’ve already heard that part of your dress was removed? That’s far more than just a kiss.”

  She winced. That was true, and upon reflection, a bit difficult to get around. “We got a bit carried away. We were celebrating.”

  “Celebrating?” Hart yelled, beginning to pace the room.

  But when he moved, he ceased blocking the door, and Daisy realized they weren’t alone as she caught sight of two other people just outside the door. Not only was her aunt in the hall, but standing next to her was the Duke of Danesbury.

  A shiver ran down her spine when their gazes met, his eyes a mesmerizing shade of tawny gold, and she cursed herself. How could he still elicit that reaction after all this time?

  His jaw was just as chiseled, his shoulders broad compared with the narrow taper of his waist. He stood, looking both stern and masculine. And while the Duke of Danesbury appeared carved from marble, the sight of him never failed to make her wish to melt. A puddle at his feet was all she’d ever been.

  She scolded herself instantly. After all, she was in love with another man. A ridiculously handsome and titled man. How could she still shiver at the very sight of Chance? Her brother’s best friend? She’d had an absurd childhood infatuation with the man. Well, he’d been a teen then, but at ten years her senior, he’d only seen her as a little girl.

  And she’d been so young and silly compared to Arabella. The beautiful Arabella had always been part of their adventures, but Daisy had been too small and too annoying to join in the fun, according to them.

  But she’d so wanted to be part of their group, take part in their adventures.

  And most of all, she wished for the Duke of Danesbury to see her as something other than a little girl.

  And now here he was.

  He wasn’t likely to see her as a child after today. A trollop perhaps? A fool? She winced.

  “What exactly were you celebrating?”

  “He asked…” She swallowed down a lump. “He asked me to marry him.”

  “Marriage?” Hart’s face turned a distressing shade of purple.

  “Hart, please breathe,” she whispered taking a half step toward her brother. “You’re scaring me.”

  “I’m scaring you?” He bit back, scrubbing his hand through his normally neat hair. “The man is a fortune hunter, Daisy. And little naïve imp that you are, you just stepped right into his trap.”

  She cringed at that. It was one thing for Aunt Mildred to say those words. Her aunt was rather effusive by nature and had an air for the dramatic. But Hart? He never spoke to her like that. Technically, he didn’t talk to her much at all, which made this all the more painful. “Hart?” Her voice trembled with her hurt.

  “He wants your dowry, and knowing I’d never agree, he’s attempting to force my hand by ruining you.”

  Inside, she died a bit. Could that be the only reason why a man like Edge would want to marry her? A wave of concern washed over her. “That’s what Aunt Mildred said.”

  “Because it’s true.”

  “Or,” she drew in a tremulous breath, “because no one in my family has any faith in me.”

  Hart stopped in his tracks and stared at her, not saying a word as his face fell from angry to sad to crushed. His dismay crushed her too.

  “What am I to do now?” he asked.

  For some inexplicable reason, her gaze darted to Chance, his golden gaze burning into hers. It near stole her breath, and she had to force out the words. “Allow me to marry.”

  “Out of the question,” Hart fired back.

  “Why?” She took two more steps, reaching her brother as she clasped his hands in hers. “I can assure you, the feelings are real.”

  Hart grimaced down at her. “I’m sure your feelings are real, Daisy. But he’s a known debaucher. This is what he does. He convinces women to…” Her brother paused and glanced at the duke. “What’s the word I’m looking for here?”

  Chance’s brows lifted and Daisy’s face flamed with heat. “All the ones that cross my mind shouldn’t be uttered in the company of ladies.”

  Her aunt gave a melodramatic squawk behind them, but Daisy only straightened her shoulders. Somehow, her brother bringing Chance into this conversation was a bridge too far.

  The Duke of Danesbury was going to lend opinions on her future? Then by all means, let him. “Please, Your Grace, don’t hold back on my account.”

  Deuce. Bullocks. Bloody hell. Chance uttered several more curses under his breath as Daisy stared at him from her position next to her brother.

  Beautiful.

  That’s what Hart had said.

  Beautiful didn’t even begin to describe how Daisy looked now.

  A mass of the most lush, silky, brown curls flowed down her back, a halo forming about her head.

  Her brown eyes sparkled with emotion in the dim candlelight even as a flood of pale pink colored her cheeks, matching the delectable bow of her mouth. Her skin was smooth and pale, her features delicate, accentuated by her wide eyes. Her rounded face of childhood had given way to high cheekbones and a heart-shaped face.

  He’d never seen her like this. She was incomparable to every woman before her. An enchantress, a siren, a… He stopped trying to describe her, the words failing him.

  Sure, Arabella was stunning, but Daisy… There was something so vulnerable in her beauty. Petite, with exactly the right amount of curves, Chance had the most ridiculous urge to tuck her against his side and protect her.

  From rakes with debaucherous plans.

  From angry brothers and meddling aunts.

  But then who would protect her from him?

  A broken duke with a penchant for bad behavior?

  “What’s the word he’s looking for, Chance?” Daisy asked again, her mouth forming a hard, straight line.

  That mouth…it should never form such a harsh position.

  “He convinces women to share his bed. He uses them and then he throws them away,” Chance said, hating the words. They were the truth, and they needed to be said, but he didn’t li
ke doing it. He left out the even darker parts. The whispered stories of a woman who’d ended up dead because of Edgemere. He couldn’t go that far. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.

  He saw the uncertainty flash in her eyes. Naïve? Not after tonight. And he hated that most of all.

  “But he’s already asked me to marry him. He’s coming in the morning to speak with Hart,” she whispered, but her voice lacked conviction.

  “Daisy,” Hart bit out. “Everyone knows he needs a dowry. Everyone. As yours is one of the largest…” Her brother swept his hand through the air. “Can’t you see how we might have doubts? And then there is the way he’s skirted the rules. Don’t think he doesn’t know them. He’s intimately aware of every nuance, which is how he manages to regularly subvert them. And that is exactly what he’s doing now.”

  Daisy straightened. “He isn’t.”

  “How do you know?” Hart crossed his arms.

  Daisy’s gaze slid to Chance, more color flooding her cheeks before she answered her brother. “I can feel it when we’re together.”

  “What you feel is attraction, nothing more.” Hart’s fists clenched. “A feeling you will quickly regret.”

  She shook her head, that mass of hair moving and shimmering in the light. “I won’t.”

  Hart’s jaw hardened, his eyes growing fiery in the candlelight. “I’ll prove it to you then. By the end of tonight, you’ll be sorry you ever met Edgemere.”

  “Hart?” Daisy asked, her voice shaking as her hands clasped in front of her.

  But Hart was a man on a mission and stepping toward her, he grabbed her upper arm. Pulling her toward the door, Chance heard her gasp.

  Hart swept past him, dragging Daisy behind him. He caught her scent, fresh like dew on a summer morning, as she passed.

  Her eyes were wide and frightened as she moved by him, and despite his best intentions to let his friend handle the situation, his hand shot out. Not to touch Daisy but to stop Hart. Chance gave his arm a good hard smack.

  Hart halted, turning to look at him. “What?”