Page 3 of Dominating the Duke

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LINCOLN'S INN, LONDON

OFFICE OF SOLICITOR JERVAIS AIKERS

Percy was sure he'd seen the tantalus storing myriad bottles of fine spirits in Aikers's office before, but somehow he'd never previously noticed the handy supply. Perhaps he'd never before needed a tot of good Scottish whisky as much as he did in that moment.

When his solicitor's assistant handed him a healthy pour in a fine crystal tumbler, Percy tipped back his head to allow the fiery liquid of the gods to slide down his throat. He grimaced at the intense effect and let out the breath he'd been holding.

To say the meeting with Captain Goodrum had not gone well would be an understatement. Not only had he not gotten what he wanted, which was a rare enough occurrence for him, but he'd been totally unsettled by the damned woman. Who the hell was she, and why did she seem so familiar?

He blamed himself a bit for being caught off guard by Mrs., er, Captain Goodrum. When he first saw her, she'd seemed utterly harmless in a modest muslin dress dotted with violets. How was he to know she'd turn out to be a disagreeable iron maiden who dared cross him in his request to abandon his brother financially in his absurd lewd book venture?

He knew just the man to take care of that bit of uneasiness, and he sat across from him now. Jervais Aikers had been his man of business ever since he'd inherited the dukedom. He'd also served his distant cousin, the former duke who'd suffered an early death after an attack of apoplexy.

Gradually, over the years, as he'd come to rely more and more on Aikers, he'd discovered that the man was more than a financial adviser. Jervais had no equal in the rooting out of things other people did not want revealed to the light of public scrutiny.

After Percy had exhaled heartily, and the amber liquid of the Scottish gods had found its way to his center, Aikers leaned back in his chair and gave him an assessing look. "What's on your mind, Chelmsford? I don't believe I've ever seen you in such a state."

Percy leaned forward and rested his forehead on his hands for a bit before launching into his tale of woe. "You see...I, um...there's this woman..."

"Ah, a woman," Aikers said knowingly.

"No--God, no. Not that kind of woman." Percy shook his head vehemently.

Aikers's eyes widened, as if he didn't know there could be more than one sort of woman problem for which his clients needed his services.

Percy continued. "This woman is destroying not only my brother but my entire family.

Now real concern shown from the solicitor's eyes, and he leaned forward. "She's a blackmailer?"

"No--she's my brother's business partner. Her money is behind his god-awful erotic publishing venture."

* * *

El fumedas she traded jabs with Jacob Wolsey who spent two hours every Wednesday training her in the fine art of boxing. She'd found him in a small village in Devon in the midst of a deadly match and had paid him to come to work for her. His tasks now were varied, including self-defense training for the women she had serving at her various estates, readying themselves for service at the great houses of England. She made sure she paid him enough to keep him from straying to the professional fight circuit.

Sword work, her favorite form of destruction, she saved for Fridays with Harve', main trainer for the Gymnasium Society in London.

The breath whooshed out of her lungs, and she suddenly found herself flat on her back, staring up into the frightened face of the young Devon fighter. His strong arm pulled her back to her feet as if she weighed nothing. "I'm so sorry, Captain Goodrum. I've never seen you miss a cross punch like that."

She waved off his concerns. "Never mind. I'm fine, really," she insisted and tried to even her breathing.Damn that gutless Percy.He'd made her lose her edge. He'd made her lose the intense single-minded focus for which she was famous. And that she would not tolerate.

She couldn't shake the urge to find the witless bastard and challenge him to a fight he'd not easily walk away from. The mere thought of engaging him in a close-contact battle of will and strength made parts of her she hadn't noticed in years rouse into heated awareness. She wished there were two of her so she could slap sense into her girlish, fluttering twin.

Instead, she brushed the dust from the floor of her private gymnasium off the soft pantalons she used for fight practice. El motioned for Jacob to follow her out of the unused ballroom in her London townhouse they used for self-defense practice. An unbidden smile curved her lips momentarily, causing poor Jacob's cheeks to color. She could not remember a single time since she'd acquired the townhouse that the ballroom had been the scene of dancers fluttering across the floor. That life and milieu belonged to another world, the same world inhabited by the high-in-the-instep Duke of Chelmsford.

She shook out her long hair from the cap she used during her rigorous classes and followed the young man out into the fresh air of her mews in the alley behind Grosvenor Square. It was long past time to forget the arrogant bastard from her past and move on with her life.

* * *

Early June,1826, a week later

Forbidden Pleasures Books

Percy strolled into his brother's office on Holywell Street as if his visits were an everyday occurrence. He carefully moved aside the bookstore cat from the chair across from Daedalus's desk and placed the stubborn creature on the floor next to him. He knew from past visits that the damned cat would crawl right back onto the chair as if he weren't there and leave trails of cat hair on his fine dark woolen trousers.

Daedalus turned and started so at the sight of his brother that he dropped the usual towering stack of books he seemed to be forever moving from one side of his office to the other. To what purpose Percy couldn't possibly fathom.