Page 42 of Her Duke’s Second Chance (Regency Second Chances #1)
CHAPTER 2
“ W ell, this is a surprise. A lady of your standing, strolling into a brothel.”
Dorian Fairfax watched the young woman’s eyes widen at his words.
“Tell me, are you conducting research, or have you simply developed new tastes?”
She was lovely—all flame-red hair and flashing green eyes. The way she held herself, spine straight as a sword despite her obvious discomfort, spoke of impeccable breeding.
What in God’s name is she doing here?
“I beg your pardon?” Her voice quivered between outrage and disbelief.
He moved closer, enjoying the way she lifted her chin in defiance.
“Oh, there’s no need to be shy. Everyone has their curiosities.” His lips curled into a knowing smile. “Though I must admit, I didn’t take you for the sort who’d care to see what happens behind closed doors.”
“You know nothing about me or why I am here,” she snapped, though he noticed her fingers twisting in her skirts.
“I know enough to recognize a lady of the ton when I see one.” His gaze swept over her deliberately. “And you, my dear, are very far from Mayfair.”
“How observant of you.” Her voice could have frozen champagne. “Do you make a habit of accosting lost ladies, or am I simply fortunate?”
He chuckled. “I would say the second, my lady. Allow me to introduce myself. Dorian Fairfax, the Duke of Ashthorne,” he offered with a mocking bow. “At your service.”
Before she could scoff at his response, her eyes widened slightly at his title. Well-bred, indeed. Most women would be stammering by now.
“Lady Alice Keswick.” Her curtsy was minimal at best. “And I am most certainly not at your service, Your Grace.”
The way she said his title made it sound like an insult.
Intriguing.
He knew of the Keswicks, of course—an old family whose fortunes had seen better days.
That explained some of her desperation, though not her presence at Madame Rosa’s.
“Tell me, my lady, are you here pursuing some academic interest in the demimonde ? Taking notes for a scandalous novel, perhaps?” His smile turned wicked. “I would be happy to assist with your… research.”
“You know nothing about me or my reasons for being here.” She glanced toward the door, but he had already positioned himself between her and any escape route. “If you’ll excuse me?—”
“I know enough.” He caught the scent of jasmine as she tried to step around him. “You are certainly not one of Rosa’s girls. Your dress alone probably cost more than they make in a month.”
“How dare you comment on my?—”
“Of course, if you are interested in a career change…” He let his gaze drift deliberately down her figure, noting the way her breath caught. “I am sure Madame Rosa would be delighted to add such a rare jewel to her collection.”
Color flooded her cheeks. “You are absolutely the most?—”
“Charming? Perceptive? Devastatingly handsome?”
“Insufferable man I’ve ever had the misfortune to encounter.” She attempted to push past him again, but he caught her arm.
The contact sent an unexpected jolt through him.
“You stick out like a diamond in a pile of coal, darling. You are not meant to be here.” His tone grew serious. “I don’t know why you are here, but I do know you shouldn’t be. The fact that you came here alone tells me one thing—you are desperate. And desperation, my lady, is dangerous.”
Something flickered in her eyes—fear, perhaps, or recognition of the truth in his words. But she quickly masked it with anger.
“How dare you? You know nothing about me, about my situation, about what I’ve had to?—”
“About what you’ve had to endure?” he cut her off, his voice hardening. “Spare me the dramatics, sweetheart. You are a lady. Whatever problem you think you have, it’s not worth risking your reputation—and your safety.”
The pet name seemed to infuriate her further.
Good. Anger was safer than the alternative… safer than the way his body had responded to her proximity.
“You think you are so clever, don’t you?” She jerked her arm free. “Just because you’ve made a profession of debauchery, doesn’t mean you understand me.”
“Oh, I understand you, my lady.” He stepped closer, close enough to see the faint dusting of freckles on her nose, to watch her pupils dilate despite her anger. “You are out of your depth, playing a dangerous game. Tell me, what happens when you lose?”
“The only game being played here is yours,” she shot back. “Do you practice these little speeches in front of your mirror? ‘Oh look at me, I am so worldly and mysterious?—”
Her imitation of his voice coaxed a genuine laugh from him. “I assure you, my natural charm requires no rehearsal.”
“Charm? Is that what you call this high-handed behavior?”
But there was a hint of answering amusement in her eyes now, making them sparkle like sun-caught emeralds.
Dangerous, indeed.
“Consider it concern for your welfare.” He moved closer still, and he heard her breath hitch. “These halls hold more peril than you know.”
“I am perfectly capable of—” She stopped abruptly as voices approached from the corridor.
Male voices. Drunk, by the sound of them. But Dorian barely registered them. He was too distracted by her proximity, by the way her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, by the delicate flush spreading down her neck and disappearing beneath the neckline of her gown.
She was the sort of temptation he’d spent years learning to resist—beautiful, passionate, and absolutely forbidden.
When she’d first burst into the room, he’d been annoyed at the interruption. He needed to find Sarah. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with a lady whose bearing screamed ‘nobility’ even as her actions whispered ‘scandal.’
Her hair, coming loose from its careful arrangement, glinted like copper in the lamplight. Those eyes—green as spring leaves—flashed with an intelligence that matched her beauty.
Everything about her drew him in, even as his better judgment screamed at him to keep his distance.
She shifted slightly, and the movement brought her even closer. Close enough to smell the faint traces of jasmine and something uniquely her. Close enough to kiss, if he were insane enough to contemplate such a thing.
Which he absolutely was not .
He was here on a mission of mercy, not seduction. And yet… there was something about the defiant tilt of her chin, the way she stood her ground despite her obvious fear, that called to something primal in him. That made him want to protect her and possess her in equal measure.
Something protective and primitive surged through Dorian. Before he could think better of it, he grabbed her hand. “Time to go.”
“What? No, I haven’t found?—”
“Whatever you are looking for isn’t worth what you’ll lose by staying.” He pulled her toward the door, ignoring her protests. “Trust me on this, if nothing else.”
She tried to dig in her heels. “You can’t just?—”
“Watch me.”
He practically dragged her down the hallway, taking a sharp turn to avoid the approaching group.
The back stairs would be safer than the main entrance.
She stumbled slightly on the narrow steps, and he steadied her with an arm around her waist.
“This is abduction,” she hissed, though she didn’t pull away from him.
“This is rescue.” He guided her through the kitchens, nodding to the startled cook. “Though if you prefer, I could leave you to explain your presence to Lord Chadwick and his companions. I believe I heard his distinctive braying laugh among that group upstairs.”
She paled slightly. “You know Lord Chadwick?”
“I know everyone worth knowing in London, sweetheart. And several who aren’t.”
They emerged into the cool night air through the servants’ entrance. His carriage was waiting in the alley, as instructed.
“Which is how I know exactly how quickly gossip about your little adventure could spread.”
Without ceremony, he yanked open the door and all but hauled her inside.
“Stay there,” he ordered, swinging up after her. He rapped sharply on the roof, and the carriage lurched into motion.
“I didn’t ask for your help,” she protested, sitting as far from him as the confines of the carriage would allow.
“And yet here we are.” He settled back against the leather squabs and stretched out his legs. “Now, what actually brought you to Madame Rosa’s establishment?”
She drew herself up, managing to look down her nose at him despite their height difference. “We shall discuss nothing of the sort. In fact, we shall not discuss anything at all.”
“As you wish.” He studied her with undisguised interest. “We can simply enjoy each other’s company in companionable silence.”
She let out what sounded suspiciously like a snort—most unladylike. “There is nothing companionable about being kidnapped by an arrogant rake.”
“Kidnapped?” He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I am wounded. Here I am, playing the gallant knight, rescuing a damsel in distress?—”
“The only thing distressing me at the moment is your presence.”
“And yet you are safer here than you were ten minutes ago.” His voice grew serious again. “Whatever brought you to that place, whatever desperate circumstance drove you there, there are always better solutions.”
She turned to stare out the window, but not before he caught the flash of genuine pain in her eyes. “You know nothing about my circumstances.”
“Then enlighten me.”
“Why should I?” She turned back, all flashing eyes and righteous indignation. “You’ve already decided who and what I am. As if being a lady is all that matters. As if duty and responsibility and family count for nothing against propriety and reputation.”
“You can’t simply abduct every lady you find in a brothel,” she continued, still maintaining her distance. “It’s hardly proper behavior for a duke.”
“Indeed?” His lips twitched despite his best efforts. “And what would you know about proper behavior for dukes, my lady, Given our current circumstances?”
She lifted her chin regally, though the effect was somewhat mitigated by her disheveled hair. “I know enough to recognize when one is being infuriatingly overbearing.”
“Overbearing?” He leaned forward slightly, enjoying the way her breath caught. “I prefer to think of it as… decisive.”
“Is that what you call manhandling a lady into your carriage?”
“Would you prefer I left you to your investigation?”
The flush that colored her cheeks was fascinating. The way it spread down her neck made him wonder just how far it might go.
She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
And she was going to be nothing but trouble.