Secrets of a Duke's Daughter (The Duchess's Investigative Society Book 1) Page 8

  Cassie hastened ahead and his stomach slowly sank when he realized where she was headed. Apparently she did not care one jot for her own safety or his sanity because she had not dropped whatever it was she was pursuing. When she came to a stop outside the solicitors and headed inside, he shook his head. He should have known the stubborn, determined Cassie would ignore his demands.

  He paused. Should he follow her inside or wait? He leaned against the wall and watched the office for some time and ground his teeth together. When she emerged, he would...

  Well, he’d scold her as a brother would, yes?

  He certainly would not think about kissing her into submission. He would tell her in no uncertain terms that her behavior would warrant a letter to Anton at the rate she was going, and he would be stern, and maybe even a little furious.

  That would be the end of it with any luck and he would not have to spend another minute worrying about her. Because, Lord knew, the last thing he needed was Little Cassie Fallon on his mind any longer.

  She exited, followed by a short gentleman who gestured wildly then dipped his head in a curt manner. Cassie put hands to her hips, her expression tight, her lips pouty. The man gave another dip of his head and headed back inside, shutting the door before Cassie could turn and utter another word. Whatever she had asked of the man, she must not have received the answers she was looking for.

  Luke peered up the road, looking for an opportunity to cross. His gut clenched when he saw the man approach her. His senses sparked into awareness, noting the man’s worn clothing, the confidence of his gait and the broadness of his shoulders. His clenched fists offered evidence of a recent fight and dark, ashen, unshorn hair touched his collar. Everything about him shouted danger.

  The man’s attention remained fixed on Cassie.

  Damn it.

  He waited only a moment more, skirting past one carriage and pausing in the middle of the road as a wagon zipped in front of him. The man grabbed Cassie’s arms.

  Whoever he was, Luke was going to have to kill him. He crossed the road and felt the breeze of a vehicle whipping past him as the man shoved Cassie to the ground. She stumbled backward and fell hard on her rear.

  Heat burned through his veins. Luke dashed over to her and took her arms in his hands. “Cassie? Are you hurt?”

  She stared up at him, wide-eyed. “I-I—”

  He followed her gaze in the direction of her attacker but the man was lost to the crowd. Luke would not forget his appearance easily. “Cassie?”

  She gave a shaky smile. “I am well.”

  He aided her up and her legs trembled beneath her. One arm looped around her, he urged her to lean on him and motioned for a hack. He bundled her inside and she must have been terrified indeed as she did not offer up one word of protest. He ordered the carriage to depart for her home and settled beside her then she sank gratefully into his arms while he murmured comforting words. Once her trembling had ceased, he eased her back and cast his gaze over her.

  “Are you certain you are not hurt?”

  She lifted her hands. “These sting a little but that’s it.”

  He pushed the little buttons of her gloves through the eyelets and drew the fabric slowly down. He turned her hand this way and that. Had he been less furious, he might have taken more time to appreciate her delicate hands against his dark kid gloves. “A little red but no damage.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Apart from my gloves.”

  “Why are you always getting dirty in my presence, Cassie?”

  He clamped his mouth shut and resisted the desire to slap a hand to his forehead. She might not understand the unintentional double meaning behind his words, but he certainly did and the last thing he needed right now was to be thinking of anything remotely dirty.

  She gave a little shrug. “Rotten luck I suppose.”

  “What did he say to you?”

  A line formed between her brows. “To stop.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Just to stop or else.” A shudder wracked her, and Luke took her back into his hold and rubbed a hand up and down her back. “His words were most threatening.”

  “He had no limp,” Luke mused. “Which means you have drawn the attention of not one but two people.”

  “You do not know I was being followed,” she murmured.

  He fixed her with a stern look. “I think it is about time you told me the truth, Cassie. Why are you receiving threats and being followed?”

  She opened her mouth then shut it.

  “I won’t leave your side until you tell me the truth,” he vowed.

  There wasn’t a single chance he was letting her get harmed again, regardless of the promise he made to Anton.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cassie studied her red palms. The sting from her fall lingered. This was no ordinary investigation—no thieving servant or scandalous elopement. She had yet to uncover anything of substance, yet someone thought her dangerous enough to threaten her. She imagined whoever was behind this attack had thought the pampered daughter of a duke would give up after such a threat.

  They thought wrong.

  It only confirmed her suspicions that Jane was indeed right, and her brother was not dead. This company had to be involved somehow. If only the solicitor did not refuse to give her any information. He repeatedly told her it was confidential and refused to even consider there might be something untoward about the will.

  “Cassie?” Luke prompted.

  She lifted her head and met his gaze. It would be much easier to ignore his demands of the truth if he did not look so wretchedly handsome. Today, his waistcoat sat slightly askew though that could well have been from when he had lifted her from the ground and drawn her into his arms. Her fingers twitched with the need to straighten the buttons and press a palm against the solid strength of him.

  Fingers pressed to her lips, she weighed her options. She could lie she supposed or tell him it was nothing. He could not force the truths from her mouth after all. But she needed to fix this for Jane—and soon. As determined as she was to do this alone, she might need help.

  Or at the very least protection.

  He did not have to know of her sisters’ activities or how she even became involved in this, and maybe if he saw the scant evidence she had, he might believe her.

  Might.

  She would have to be persuasive indeed.

  She inched up her skirts and Luke swiftly averted his gaze. “Cassie,” the word came out a strangled warning.

  Ignoring him, she tugged the will from the hidden pocket sewn inside her skirts.

  He glanced down, a brow raised. “A hidden pocket?”

  “Where else are we women meant to put things of importance?”

  “I would wager few women have such pockets in their skirts—only you.”

  “I suppose you have seen up enough skirts to know.”

  He fixed her with a look that told her now was not the time to be discussing his rakish reputation. She was not certain why she had even brought it up. Maybe to warn herself not to be taken in by his tender care of her, not to let herself weaken.

  She would rather the ground open beneath her than offer up another kiss and be rejected yet again, but when he touched her so sweetly and cared for her welfare in such a manner, she could not help wonder if maybe this time he would not say no.

  Foolish woman that she was.

  Why did she have to start finding Luke attractive now? Why did she find herself craving his touch so suddenly?

  “This is the will of the late Mr. Parsons.” She peeled open the bundle of pages and handed it to him.

  He cast his gaze over it, taking his time to flick through each of the pages. “It looks fairly normal.”

  “Except here.” She gestured to the company name.

  “The shipping company.” His dark brows lifted. “That was why you were trying to find them.”

  “You can see they have been granted ownership of a house in Scotland.”
>
  He shrugged. “It happens. It could be to repay a debt or because it was a friend’s company.”

  “The company does not even seem to exist!” Cassie proclaimed. “But it is more than that. The house was a favorite of Jane’s and her brother had promised it would be gifted to her, either after his death or upon her marriage.”

  Luke winced. “Brothers sometimes lie.”

  She shook her head. “You knew Theodore. He was a man of honor and he loved Jane sincerely. Do you truly think he would overlook such a matter?”

  He rubbed a hand across his chin. “It seems strange but surely she can contest the will?”

  “She is trying but we both know it will come to naught.”

  “So you were hoping to find out what happened to the house?”

  She nodded. “I may have to visit it at some point.”

  “That’s over a week’s journey, Cassie. Your absence will be noticed.”

  “There is more, though.”

  He grimaced. “Of course there is.”

  “Jane does not believe Theodore is even dead.” He went to respond and she held up a hand. “And I believe her.”

  “Cassie, she is a grieving woman. A brother’s death can be hard to accept, especially when he passed at such a young age and in such a horrific manner.”

  “Please listen and try to set aside your assumption that a woman is too fragile to think straight after bereavement. Believe it or not, we are quite able to know our own minds even after such tragedy.”

  “Trust me, Cassie, I am entirely aware that you know your own mind.”

  “Jane is convinced the body found was not that of her brother.”

  “But he—”

  “Was identified only by his jewelry and pocket watch. Who could say if that corpse was truly him? And Jane is adamant that he never wore his signet ring on that hand. Not to mention he had given up gaming hells more than six months ago. He should not have even been in that area.”

  “He might have had a lapse in judgement.”

  “Might have, but when you look at the evidence, it seems odd, do you not think, that if he was merely set upon by thieves, why did they not take his jewelry? And why burn his body?”

  “It would be hard to sell the jewelry if they killed him. They likely took his coin and hoped to hide their crime by burning him.”

  Cassie huffed out a breath. “I knew you would not believe me.” She set her jaw to prevent it from trembling with frustration. It seemed even Luke could not see her as anything other than a silly little woman with a head for fanciful stories. “I just knew it.”

  She rose from her seat and reached for the door. She could not bear to be in his company a moment longer—not when it was clear he did not respect her one bit.

  He latched a hand around her wrist. “Wait.”

  ***

  HE’D REGRET THIS. Not as much as he regretted not taking her up on that kiss but a sizable amount, Luke reckoned.

  “I believe you.”

  Her mouth formed an ‘O’ shape then she relented and returned to the seat next to him. He released her wrist.

  “In truth?”

  “Yes.”

  He was no liar, and he did believe her, though whether he really wanted her involved in whatever the devil was going on was another matter. However, he did not think for one minute Cassie would cease her investigations. If he knew anything about her, it was that once her curiosity was sparked, she would dive headlong into anything, with little worry as to whether the situation might be dangerous or not.

  His promise to Anton no longer drove him—no, now it was his genuine fear for her welfare. She had roused a wasps’ nest and was going to get stung if he did not step in and help her.

  “And I am going to help you.”

  She blinked several times. “In truth?”

  He smirked. “Yes.”

  “I did not ask for your help,” she pointed out.

  “You are going to take it, though. Someone does not like you looking into the situation and I’m certainly not willing to let you do this alone.”

  “You cannot order me about, Luke. You are not my brother, you know.”

  “Believe me, I know.”

  Her gaze searched his, her lips parting marginally. For the briefest moment, he imagined she might lean in and offer her lips once more. He’d have a hard time turning her away this time. There was only so much willpower one could have when offered such temptation. Instead, she shifted back and dropped her gaze to her lap.

  Luke cleared his throat. “You could just accept my aid and not argue with me.” He let his lips quirk. “A novel idea, I know.”

  “I know.”

  “So you will accept my aid? And my protection?”

  “I promised Jane I would see this through.”

  “You are allowed to say yes.”

  She gave a slight smile. “I was exceedingly determined to do this by myself.”

  “Naturally.”

  “It is easy for you to dismiss such an idea. You have never been underestimated in your life.”

  “Believe me, Cassie, I would never underestimate you.”

  “You would be entirely alone.” She shook her head. “You have no idea how often I am told how little I am or how utterly helpless I must be because I am a duke’s daughter.”

  “I very much doubt anyone has called you helpless.”

  “They may not say it so directly, but they say it nonetheless. Even you are always calling me Little Cassie Fallon.” She gestured up and down him.

  “I shall never do it again,” he vowed. “And believe me when I say I do not think of you as helpless or little.”

  Which was a huge problem. He needed to think of her as Anton’s little sister still. For some reason, his repeated phrase had dissipated.

  The carriage rocked over a bump and her hand flew to his chest.

  “I do not think of you as little,” he repeated, his voice gruff.

  She looked up at him from under her lashes. His cock twitched. Jaw tight, he tried to conjure the words that had prevented him from acting for so long but apparently his grasp of the English language had vanished. All he heard was the thud of his heart in his ears.

  She smelled of vanilla and soap. Her hair shimmered gold. She leaned in.

  By God, he was lost.

  He didn’t know who reached for who first. Her hand curled into the lapel of his jacket as he latched a hand around the back of her neck. Luke pressed his lips to hers—hard, demanding, fervent.

  She gasped.

  He took all he could, fire burning through his veins at the taste of her. A hand to her hips, he drew her closer and she made a tiny noise of desire.

  “Dear God,” he murmured before bringing his lips down on hers again with equal ferocity.

  He could kiss this woman for an eternity. It was no lie—he did not see her as little anymore. She was a grown, beautiful woman with the most kissable lips on earth and he’d be damned if he could resist her.

  “Guildbury Hall,” came a faint announcement from the front of the carriage.

  Luke broke away, his hand still latched under her hair. He stared at her for several moments, his breaths coming hard and fast. Her eyes were wide and lips soft and red.

  He dropped his hand swiftly. “Home,” he blurted out.

  Cassie eyed him, her mouth slightly ajar. Then she jolted into action. “Oh yes.” She snatched up her gloves. “I shall—” She twisted on the seat. “That is—” She clambered out of the carriage before Luke had a chance to help her. She paused by the open door for a moment. “Um…Good day!”

  He watched her scurry away then dropped his head into his hands. Just wonderful.

  Chapter Twelve

  The ball at Bishop’s Cross would usually have been the highlight of the Season for Cassie. Of course, usually, she was not investigating the suspicious death of a friend’s brother.

  Usually she had not just kissed Viscount Whitehurst.

  Her ch
eeks warmed in recollection and today she could not blame the close atmosphere of the ballroom. The spectacularly clear evening had allowed the huge doors of the room to be flung open, offering a gentle breeze that ruffled the feathers embedded in the elaborate hairstyles of many of the women. Unfortunately, the fresh air did nothing to erase the heat from Cassie’s face nor blow away the cobwebs of recollection that lingered in her mind.

  She glanced Luke’s way. Normally she would not have paid much attention to his activities at such an event. But, as she was far too aware, things were not at all usual at present.

  She blew out a breath. If only she could have cancelled but the invitation had been accepted ages ago and it would draw attention to her if she did not attend such events. If she intended to continue her inquiries, she could not afford for anyone to pay her notice.

  Or at least, more notice than a duke’s daughter usually garnered.

  Which was why she really ought to act normal. She had already declined several dances. She adored dancing. So what was wrong with her?

  Unable to stop herself, she sought out Luke again. Nothing had changed since the kiss. Women still surrounded him, he still laughed and smiled. Why had she never noticed how much he flirted before? Why had it only just occurred to her that women flocked to him like ants to jam?

  The kiss changed nothing. She would still investigate Theodore’s death and allow Luke to offer his protection. There would be many who would think her a vapid, silly thing due to her rank and privileged life but she was not foolish enough to turn down his offer. A man had threatened her and someone had died—even if it was not Theodore Parsons. If she was to help Jane, she needed to swallow her pride and allow Luke to play guardian.

  She also needed to forget the kiss.

  A loud laugh from Aunt Sarah dragged her attention sideways to where her aunt had cornered Mr. Wilde, who had a huge collection of cats which apparently warranted her aunt quizzing him about them. Although perhaps she was being unfair to her aunt. The man appeared quite animated in telling Aunt Sarah about his many, many animals.