Page 24 of Sweet Duke of Mine

UNWANTED VISITORS

“ W here is he?” Daisy pounced on her unsuspecting brother the minute she stepped into the kitchen. She then strode across the room and opened the cupboard where she’d left Alastair’s mended clothing. Her heart dropped to see it bare.

“He said he’ll be back later today.” Gilbert’s cheeks flushed. “He also said that he loves you. And he wants to marry you.”

“When?”

Gilbert’s eyes scrunched together in confusion. “When… will he marry you?”

“No! When did he leave?” The hour was early, and yet the house was unusually quiet. Foreboding curled around her. She’d known he was gone the moment she’d opened her eyes. It was almost as though her soul could feel his absence.

“Half an hour ago, maybe more? He said he’d be careful.” Gilbert drew back his shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure.”

Daisy ran her hand through her hair and scowled when her fingers got caught in tangled curls. She’d come downstairs in such a hurry that she hadn’t bothered with her appearance whatsoever.

Was there something to worry over or was this feeling— this fear —a result of having lost him once before? He’d said he was going to speak with his uncle today, so this situation wasn’t entirely unexpected, but he hadn’t informed her that he would be leaving so early.

Still, if nothing was wrong, why had her heart dropped the moment her hand met the cold, empty mattress?

Daisy forced herself to breathe, to think , but her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She paced the length of the kitchen, torn between clinging to reason and surrendering to the gut-wrenching certainty that something was very, very wrong.

If Alastair was right about his uncle, then perhaps she had nothing to fear.

But if he was wrong…

The thought was unbearable.

“I need to go after him.” The words tumbled from her lips before she had fully processed them. It was likely too late to catch up with him, but standing here and doing nothing was impossible. There had to be something—anything—she could do. She’d figure it out on the way.

She turned on her heel, only to curse under her breath. “Drat it all, I need to get dressed first!”

Not waiting for Gilbert’s response, she tore up the stairs two at a time, barely registering the feel of the wood beneath her bare feet. Once in her chamber, she dressed with trembling fingers, pulling a plain gown over her chemise, skipping stockings altogether. Her hair remained unbrushed, but she shoved her feet into her half-boots and barely managed to button them before rushing back down.

Gilbert stood at the door, arms crossed, his jaw set with a stubborn determination .

“I’m coming with you,” he announced, his chin lifting in defiance. “I can afford to miss a day of school. I can’t afford to lose my sister.”

Something inside her softened. Her brave, wonderful brother.

“You’re not going to lose me,” she promised, though her stomach twisted as she said it.

She should have argued, should have sent him somewhere safe, but the truth was—if there was trouble at Alastair’s townhouse, she could send Gilbert for help. Her brother was young, but he was fit, and he was smart.

And, it seemed, he wasn’t going to back down this time.

Instead of protesting, she reached for Gilbert’s hand, squeezed it tightly, and nodded toward the door. “Come on, then.”

But when she opened it, her blood turned to ice.

Standing just outside were two men she’d hoped never to see again—the men who had tried to kill Alastair.

Her pulse thundered in her ears, her breath caught painfully in her chest. Thank God Alastair wasn’t here.

Whereas minutes before she’d wanted nothing more than to see his face, now, she desperately hoped he stayed away—long enough for her to outmaneuver these villains.

Summoning every ounce of composure, she plastered on her best shopkeeper’s smile. “Good morning, Officers.” Her tone was smooth, pleasant. Not at all like she was staring down two murderers. “If you’ll excuse me, I was just walking my brother to school. Perhaps you can return later today—I’ll be happy to provide you with samples of my newest gentleman’s soaps.”

“I’m afraid our business can’t wait.” The larger man blocked her path, his stance heavy with the sort of arrogance that made her skin crawl. “If you and your brother don’t mind stepping back inside. ”

“Not at all, Officer…?” She tilted her head, playing the part of the polite, cooperative citizen. A good shopkeeper always remembered names, after all.

“Giles,” the shorter one answered. “And this is Officer Brown.”

Daisy nodded thoughtfully. “Always a pleasure to know with whom I am speaking.”

Brown scowled, looking impatient.

"Now, then," she said breezily, as though her entire body wasn’t coiled like a spring, "I’m happy to help, but my brother needs to get to school. He’s working toward perfect attendance, and he mustn’t be tardy over something that isn’t urgent."

Her voice dripped with good-natured authority, a tone that had tamed many a difficult customer.

“Run along, Gil,” she added, keeping her expression serene but sending him a look that could cut glass.

Get help.

Gilbert hesitated—she could feel him weighing his options. But then, playing his part, he gave a slow, reluctant nod, looking for all the world like an obedient little brother.

But as he turned, Brown’s hand shot out, fingers clamping around Gilbert’s arm.

“You aren’t going anywhere.” The horrid man was relishing this.

Daisy’s stomach clenched, but her smile didn’t falter.

But inside? Inside, she was already planning how to rip these men apart.

“Unhand him!” Daisy demanded before a hand covered her mouth. With no onlookers to help, the two bobbies clumsily dragged Daisy and Gilbert back into the front room of her shop.

The instant the hand left Daisy’s mouth, she inhaled, intent on letting out a piercing scream. She didn’t get the chance, though, before pain exploded along the side of her face.

She barely registered the sound of the door slamming shut as she staggered, reeling from the blow.

“Daisy!” Gil’s cry made her chest go tight.

Her ears rang. Her cheek throbbed. But she still managed to meet her brother’s stare. He was ineffectively pulling against the officer’s hold.

“I’m fine,” she assured him.

Stay alert.

Officer Giles flexed his fingers like he was considering hitting her again, then grabbed her wrists instead. She didn’t fight him. For now.

“So, we’re offing her too?” he asked, tightening his hold.

Too??? Oh, God. Did that mean Alastair was already… no. She refused to believe it.

Brown shrugged. “His Lordship said no witnesses. Nothing to lead the authorities back to him.”

A cold knot formed in her gut.

Officer Brown sighed, irritated. As if Daisy were nothing more than an inconvenience. “Let’s get away from the windows.”

“Right.”

Daisy and Gilbert were rudely shuffled back to the kitchen, away from the street. But being in her element meant she was not without options.

Her pulse pounded as she mentally considered possible weapons.

Cast iron pots. Knives. Boiling water.

She just had to wait for the right moment.

“Let’s deal with the boy first, eh. Then we can have a spot of fun with her.” The fiend’s breath blew hot on her neck. And although his nearness physically repulsed her, it didn’t matter.

“What do you mean, ‘deal with the boy’?” she demanded .

Above all, she would protect her brother.

“You’ll know soon enough,” Officer Brown responded in clipped tones.

“We’ll slit his throat—make it look like a burglary.” Her captor was glancing around. “But tie him to a chair first.”

“We should charge extra for two of ’em. His Lordship can afford it.” Officer Giles sounded almost gleeful.

Charge him extra. Daisy’s breath shuddered in her lungs. Gilbert, caught by the other corrupt policeman, was looking on with more than a hint of terror in his eyes.

“But why? Why are you doing this?” Daisy tamped down her panic. None of this made sense, but if she and Gilbert were going to get away from these thugs safely, she needed to keep them talking.

The two men exchanged a look. Then Brown shrugged.

It was Giles who answered. “Commoners can’t be dukes.”

Daisy blinked. “What do you mean?”

“The boy—Lord Calvin says it goes against nature—even if he is Lovington’s spawn.”

Lovington’s what? But… “I never! He isn’t!” The absurdity of it nearly made her laugh—if the situation weren’t so dire. “Gilbert is my brother . He is my father’s son.”

Brown arched a brow, unimpressed.

She had to make them listen.

“My mother gave birth after we were forced off the duke’s estate. Gilbert is no heir to anything, least of all a dukedom!” Her voice rose as she shook her head, pleading. “This is a horrible mistake. If Lord Calvin believes my brother threatens his claim, he couldn’t be more wrong. Please. Go back and tell him—he has nothing to worry about.”

“She’ll say anything to protect him.” Officer Brown’s eyes narrowed, darting around the room. “Close those curtains.”

Officer Giles kept hold of Daisy’s hands behind her back, but he’d inadvertently loosened his grip .

“But this is a mistake!” She kept her voice lowered, as calm as she could. “Gilbert has no relation to the Duke of Lovington! Lord Calvin is mistaken!”

“Enough from you,” the man beside her snapped.

Daisy flexed her fingers, preparing to act—but then she hesitated.

Something had changed.

Gilbert no longer looked quite so terrified. His wide eyes had narrowed, his focus shifting just over her shoulder.

Someone had entered through the garden entrance.

As much as she wanted to turn around to see who it was, she remained focused on their captors.

"The two of you must be thirsty."

The words slipped out smoothly, though every inch of her was strung tight.

Giles hesitated, and his hand dropped away from her wrist.

Brown’s expression darkened. “This isn’t a bloody tea party.”

Daisy forced a laugh, casually shifting a step toward the counter. “No, but I have scones. Preserves. Cream. And I’ve mixed a new blend of tea, you must try it.”

Another step.

She lifted the kettle off the stove. “It’ll just take a moment.”

Tightening her grip on the wooden handle, Daisy whipped around.

Officer Giles yelped in agony as scalding water doused the lower half of his face.

And then?—

A gunshot.

The thunderous explosion ripped through the room right before a dark stain bloomed across Officer Brown’s chest.

The bobby’s eyes widened with shock, lips parting as though he might protest. But no words came.

He crumpled .

Daisy’s breath left her in a shudder.

Alastair stood in the doorway, pistol in hand, his gaze cold and unyielding.

“Step away from her or you’re next.” His attention was just over her shoulder, and the words were calm. Deadly.

But Daisy recognized the tension in his shoulders, the fire in his eyes.

He had come for her. He had come for them.

But it wasn’t over.

Daisy was grabbed again, from behind—the injured man’s arms like iron bars.

The boiling water hadn’t been hot enough. She had hoped it would subdue this villain but instead, she’d only enraged him.

She struggled, but he was too strong. With a swift motion, he snatched the bread knife from the counter and pressed it hard against her abdomen.

She should have been terrified as the murderer began dragging her toward the rear exit.

But Alastair was here. And he had to know the truth.

“Gilbert truly is my brother.” The words flew from her lips, unbidden, urgent. If these were her last moments, she wouldn’t leave this question unanswered.

Truth mattered. It meant everything.

Alastair’s eyes flicked from Giles to her, his gaze warming for just an instant.

“I know.” His voice was steady, certain. “You would have told me if he wasn’t.”

Daisy resisted the tugging. “I would have.”

Alastair trusted her. Without hesitation, without question.

“Not that I wouldn’t be proud to have you for a son, Gil,” Alastair said. “Especially one who reads as much as you do. It’s easy to overlook the value of a good philosopher.” All his attention was on the man behind Daisy, even though he was speaking to Gilbert .

Gilbert , who had silently moved closer to the stove and carried something behind his back.

The Treatises of Government by John Locke.

God bless this boy.

Gilbert swung the book with all his might, slamming the heavy volume into the side of Giles’s head.

A grunt. A curse. A stumble.

Daisy twisted free, just as Alastair launched himself across the room.

A flash of steel. A struggle for the knife.

Alastair wrenched it from Giles’s grasp and twisted his arms around the man’s throat, locking him in a vise-like grip.

“I’ve got him.” His voice was deadly calm, his knuckles white. “Are either of you hurt?”

His gaze swept between Daisy and Gilbert, sharp and searching.

“He hit Daisy,” Gilbert answered. He was pale as a ghost but standing taller than she’d ever seen him before.

Alastair glowered.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Now that you’re here.”

Her hands trembled, and her knees felt as though they might give out beneath her. For the first time in her life, she truly understood why ladies fainted.

Alastair, still restraining the stunned villain, glanced between them, concern still haunting his eyes. “You were amazing. Both of you.”

Daisy exhaled, trying to steady herself. “You came.”

Her voice was barely a whisper, but Alastair heard it. He met her gaze, unwavering. "Best grow accustomed to it."

And then, before she could say more, the kitchen was suddenly swarmed with uniformed men.

“Good show!” A burly, broad-shouldered man stepped forward, clapping Alastair on the shoulder before jerking his chin toward the now-subdued Giles. “We’ve been trying to get solid evidence against these two for months. Looks like today’s our lucky day.” He reached into his coat and produced a polished badge. “Inspector Barrington. I’ll have my sergeants take this one back to Scotland Yard, but I’ll need statements from all of you.”

Daisy forced herself to nod. She wasn’t the kind of person to collapse in the face of adversity. She never had been.

She was her aunt’s niece—the girl who had learned that the best way to get over adversity was to move on to the next challenge. She had built a life, a home, a future.

And so, she would hold firm now.

She would not fall to pieces.

“Of course. We can talk in the dining room.”

But her feet didn’t move.

Alastair was beside her in an instant. He pressed his hand gently against her back. “You’re shaking.” His voice was for her ears alone. He wound his arm around her waist. “Are you up to this?”

She nodded, even though she wasn’t sure. But what choice did she have? This needed to be done. And after that…

After that… She didn’t know…

Inspector Barrington gave her a kind look. “This will only take a moment,” he assured her. “But it’s important.”

Gilbert, who had barely spoken, let out a breath and grinned up at Alastair. “Good shot.”

Daisy let out a shaky laugh, the sound both normal and absurd in the aftermath of all that had happened.

Gilbert was safe.

Alastair all safe.

So why was she on the verge of hysteria?

“This way.” Alastair led them from the kitchen, guiding Daisy with the same confidence he always had, as if he knew her house as well as his own. She hadn’t even realized she was clutching his hand until she felt his reassuring squeeze in response.

They were fine. The villains had lost. And Alastair had most of his memories back.

Still, her insides trembled at the near-tragic turn of events.

And she had questions.

Many questions.

Alastair pulled out a chair for her, and Daisy sank into it gratefully.

She inhaled deeply, gathering her composure as Alastair took the seat beside her. Across from them, Gilbert straightened his spine as the inspector retrieved his notepad.

Daisy folded her hands in her lap.

Finally, she would have some answers.