Page 14

Rexford

S ince I’d opened King’s, everyone assumed I stayed up all night and didn’t wake until the afternoon. That was far from my reality.

Yes, the club didn’t strictly have a closing time, but I employed enough men I trusted to ensure it ran smoothly, so I normally retired just after midnight. I cultivated the perception of not going to bed until the sun began to rise with strategic appearances throughout the week.

But the truth was that I enjoyed waking early, when most of the people who’d been at King’s were just heading to bed. It was far more efficient to work when no one was around to interrupt me.

Today was no exception. I sat in my study, going through the reports Clarence had left for me.

It was a monthly ritual. In his position as club secretary, Clarence would prepare the accounts for me to review at the start of each month.

I never found mistakes, but I indulged the habit.

It seemed to bring Clarence some measure of satisfaction, and I owed him more than I could ever repay.

Mr. Henry Clarence had been my father’s steward and a reliable presence throughout my childhood.

If not for him, I would still be under my father’s thumb.

Clarence had risked everything to bring me the information that allowed me to secure my freedom.

Maintaining the facade that he was merely the club secretary was a small price to pay for his loyalty.

In truth, he’d always been more of a father to me than the Duke of Sherbourne.

As I scanned the accounts, the quiet morning passed quickly. I was nearing the end of my review when I heard it—the familiar dull thud of a cane, followed by a heavy footfall. The sound sent a jolt through me, though I quickly masked my reaction. I knew that rhythm well.

The Duke of Sherbourne had arrived.

Setting down my quill, I leaned back in my chair and savored the triumph that surged through me.

He’d sent a summons yesterday, demanding I appear at his house in Mayfair for a dressing down.

As I always did when he sent his yearly summons on my birthday, I’d ignored it.

My father had taught me well enough. Control the ground you stand on, and you control the game.

He flung the door open hard enough that it slammed against the wall, then remained silhouetted in the doorway for several long seconds, fury evident in the tight lines of his face. He’d never been one to conceal his anger, and in that moment, it was clear that he’d never been so enraged.

I leaned back in my chair. “This is an unexpected surprise. What could possibly bring the Duke of Sherbourne here so early in the day?”

He entered the room and stopped when we faced each other across my desk. He didn’t take a seat, choosing instead to remain standing as he looked down his nose at me. I leaned further back in my chair, refusing to cede ground. We were in my domain, and I was the one setting the rules.

“You’ve gone too far this time, Rexford.” The words were sharp, clipped.

When I’d been forced to spend time under his roof, he’d rarely referred to me by my name. To him I was simply “my son” or “my heir.” Now, I was Rexford. It was an acknowledgment, however grudging, of my independence.

“Please, have a seat, Father. You seem distressed.”

His grip tightened on the head of his cane. I’d seen him swing that cane at other men, but he wouldn’t catch me unaware. Not that I believed he would attempt to harm me. I was, after all, his only heir.

“I demand that you return Victoria,” he spat.

I raised a brow. “My sister has gone missing? How troubling. Why am I only hearing about this now?”

“This isn’t a game.” His cane struck the floor with a loud crack. “People are starting to talk.”

“That doesn’t seem right. She’s always been such a dutiful daughter. The perfect picture of decorum. What could she possibly have done to stir up gossip?”

Color rose in his cheeks, mottling his ruddy complexion. “She is not of age and is under my authority. You will return her to me.”

“And if I don’t know where she is?”

His eyes narrowed. “You and I both know that isn’t true.”

This was getting interesting. I waited.

“I’ve done what I can to quell the rumors,” he continued.

“That dreadful rag of a paper— The Mayfair Chronicle —has been asking questions, but I’ve put an end to the rumors.

Everyone will soon know that she’s returned to the country to care for family.

She is such a devoted and selfless daughter, after all.

” He smirked, clearly pleased with himself.

I crossed my arms and raised a brow. “If Victoria is in the country, I don’t see why you’re here.”

His cane struck the floor again. “You have until the sun sets to return her.”

I raised a brow. “After you’ve spread all those careful lies? It wouldn’t be very commendable if she returned so soon.”

“I could just as easily craft another story,” he sneered. “Perhaps her cousin recovered sooner than expected and Victoria was eager to rejoin society.”

“Or,” I countered, standing to my full height and forcing him to look up at me, “perhaps she won’t return at all.”

We stared at each other, the silence between us heavy and charged.

At last, he turned away. “You have until tonight. Then I’ll be forced to take matters into my own hands.”

He limped from the room, leaning heavily on his cane. I’d always considered Father’s cane an affectation, or a weapon he liked to keep close at hand. Now, it seemed necessary. As the sound of his footsteps faded, Clarence stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Did you hear that?” I asked.

He nodded. “What do you want to do?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “We can’t do anything without Moreland. He’s tied to Victoria now and integral to our plans to keep her away from the duke.”

Clarence inclined his head. “He spent the night at the townhouse.”

“Of course he did,” I muttered. I didn’t want to know the details, but I trusted Clarence to keep track of what happened between Moreland and my sister. “Send word that I need to speak to him.”

Clarence nodded again and left the room.

Father would stop at nothing to reclaim Victoria.

I trusted that he wouldn’t harm her, but once he had her back under his roof, he would lock her away to ensure she never escaped again.

He wouldn’t hurt me either. I was his heir, and he believed I would eventually fall in line.

But Moreland was in danger, and I needed to warn him.