Page 1 of Wedded to the Duke of Sin (Dukes of Passion #2)
CHAPTER 1
“ L ady Alice, I must be frank with you about your brother.” The Countess of Westhaven’s voice carried the gentle sting of a silk-wrapped blade. “His absence tonight speaks volumes about his character.”
Alice Keswick clutched her glass of sherry, fighting to keep her composure in the Westhavens’ opulent parlor. The crystal chandeliers cast dancing shadows over the red and gold wallpaper, making her feel as though the very room mocked her desperation.
“My brother was unavoidably detained, my lady. I assure you, his dedication to Lady Evelyn remains absolute.”
Lady Westhaven’s perfectly arched eyebrow said more than words could convey.
“‘Unavoidably detained’ seems to be Lord Colton’s natural state of being.”
“Thomas has been making great strides in improving himself.” The lie tasted bitter on Alice’s tongue.
In truth, she hadn’t seen her brother in three days.
Across the room, Evelyn Savoy sat with a group of young ladies. Her gentle smile and quiet grace were everything a nobleman’s wife should be. Everything Thomas needed, whether he knew it or not.
“Has he?” Lady Westhaven’s steel-gray eyes narrowed. “The gossip from White’s tells a different tale. Something about a rather substantial gambling debt last week?”
Alice’s heart stuttered. Another debt? She affected a calm she didn’t feel. “Mere speculation, I am sure. Thomas has been quite focused on his estates lately.”
“Then perhaps he might demonstrate this new focus over tea tomorrow afternoon?” Lady Westhaven’s tone made it clear this was no mere social invitation. “My husband and I would be most interested in hearing about his plans for the future. For Evelyn’s future.”
Alice seized the opportunity. “We would be delighted?—”
“Let me be clear, my dear.” Lady Westhaven lowered her voice. “This is your brother’s final chance. I will not have my daughter’s reputation tarnished by an attachment to a confirmed rake who cannot even perform basic social obligations.”
Alice swallowed. The weight of her family’s precarious situation pressed down on her shoulders. The creditors’ latest letters burned in her mind—their London townhouse would be forfeit within months without the Westhavens’ influence and funds.
“I understand completely. We shall both attend, without fail.”
“See that you do.” Lady Westhaven rose, her silk skirts rustling. “Now, I believe Lady Joanna is trying to catch your eye.”
Indeed, Joanna Frowerton, Alice’s dearest friend, was gesturing subtly from across the room. But Alice’s mind was already racing ahead to the seemingly impossible task before her.
She had to find Thomas tonight.
An hour later, having made her excuses to Joanna’s family, Alice stood before The Golden Lion, one of London’s most notorious gaming halls. Her dark cloak concealed her evening gown, but nothing could disguise her gentility.
“Now here’s a pretty piece,” one of the burly guards drawled. “Lost your way, sweetheart?”
Alice lifted her chin. “I am looking for Lord Colton.”
The other guard grinned. “Aren’t we all? Run along, lady. This ain’t no place for?—”
Alice channeled every ounce of aristocratic authority she possessed. “Either step aside or explain to my brother why you delayed his sister.”
Something in her tone made them hesitate just long enough for her to push past.
The smoke, shouting, and the clash of dice and cards and coins inside assaulted her senses.
She spotted one of Thomas’s frequent companions at a card table.
Lord Rawlins’s eyes widened comically at her approach. “Lady Alice! Surely I am deeper in my cups than I thought?—”
“Where is my brother?”
“I am certain I couldn’t say?—”
She leaned close, dropping her voice. “Tell me now, or I’ll inform your mother about that incident with her prized roses last summer.”
Lord Rawlins’s eyes widened. “You don’t possibly?—”
“Yes, I do, my lord. Now, where is my brother?”
Lord Rawlins blanched. “Madame Rosa’s on Russell Street. But my lady, you can’t?—”
Alice was already moving, her heart thundering against her ribs.
Every second counted. Outside, the night air hit her like a splash of cold water, and she fought the urge to turn back and return to the safety of her world.
But safety was a luxury she could no longer afford.
Finding a hackney was surprisingly easy—apparently, enough lords frequented such establishments to keep drivers readily available.
The elderly driver barely blinked at the mention of her destination, though his knowing look made her skin crawl.
The carriage rattled through London’s darkening streets. Alice leaned her forehead against the cool glass window, watching respectable neighborhoods give way to questionable ones.
What would her mother think if she could see her now? The thought brought an unexpected wave of grief.
Her proper, perfectionist mother would be horrified. But then she had never had to watch their family’s legacy crumble piece by piece.
When the carriage stopped before Madame Rosa’s, Alice’s first thought was how deceptively elegant the building appeared. No different from any other fashionable townhouse, save for the rich red drapes in every window and the steady stream of finely dressed gentlemen going in and out.
Taking a deep breath, she paid the driver and approached the entrance. A well-dressed man—not quite a gentleman but affecting the manners of one—gave her an assessing look.
“I am here to collect my brother,” she said before he could speak, forcing steel into her voice.
“Of course you are.” He crossed his arms, unmoved. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting to gouge his eyes out? Bad for business, that sort of scene. Best to go home.”
“Lord Colton,” she specified, lifting her chin. “I was told he’s here.”
The man’s eyes widened slightly at the mention of Thomas’s title, reassessing her bearing and dress with new understanding.
“His lordship’s sister, aren’t you?” His gaze swept over her again, noting the quality of her cloak and the proud tilt of her chin. “Well, now, that’s different.”
“Indeed.” She met his gaze steadily, though her palms were damp inside her gloves. “Shall I inform him that you delayed me?”
He stepped aside with an exaggerated bow, a hint of admiration creeping into his smirk. “Far be it from me to stand between family.”
Inside, Madame Rosa’s was somehow both exactly what she had expected and utterly foreign.
The familiar trappings of wealth—crystal chandeliers, gilt mirrors, expensive furnishings—took on a different character here. Everything was slightly too bright, too rich, too much. It reminded her of a stage setting she’d once seen, where everything normal had been exaggerated for effect.
Gilt mirrors reflected crimson wallpaper, creating an endless multiplication of decadence. Painted ladies lounged on velvet settees, their laughter too bright, their gestures too practiced. The air was thick with perfume and secrets and something else—desperation, perhaps, or desire. Or both.
A beautiful woman with elaborate dark curls caught Alice’s eye and smiled knowingly. “First time, dearie? You look a bit lost.”
“I am looking for Lord Colton,” Alice managed, fighting to keep her voice steady.
The woman’s smile turned sharp. “Let me guess—he promised to marry you? They all do, love. Best to learn that lesson early and save yourself the heartbreak.”
“I am his sister.” Alice couldn’t quite keep the exasperation from her tone. “Why does everyone assume I am here to cause a scene?”
“His sister?” The woman let out a melodic laugh, studying Alice with new interest. “Well, that’s a first. Though I suppose I should have guessed—you’ve got his eyes. Try upstairs, dearie. He’s partial to the blue room.”
Alice’s cheeks burned at the implication that this stranger knew her brother’s habits so well.
She made her way toward the sweeping staircase, its rich carpet muffling her steps. Her gloved hand trembled slightly on the polished banister.
Upstairs, the corridor stretched before her like something from a fever dream. Private rooms lined both sides, some with the doors closed, others standing invitingly open. Music drifted up from below, mingling with more intimate sounds that made her face flame.
“What’s a pretty thing like you doing up here alone?” A gentleman—she used the term loosely—emerged from one of the rooms, his cravat askew. “Care for some company?”
Alice quickened her pace, her heart pounding. She had to find Thomas quickly. This place was becoming more dangerous by the second.
She passed a room with blue wallpaper, but it was empty save for rumpled bedding that made her quickly avert her gaze.
Where was he? Surely Lord Rawlins hadn’t lied—the threat about his mother’s roses had been particularly effective.
Voices approached from around the corner. Alice panicked, reaching for the nearest door handle.
A flash of movement caught her eye as it swung open—another door standing ajar further down the hall. She darted toward it, praying to find Thomas.
She burst through the doorway and stumbled to a halt as she collided with a wall of solid muscle. Strong hands steadied her, and she found herself staring up at the most devastating man she’d ever encountered.
Dark hair, piercing blue eyes, and an expression that shifted from surprise to dangerous amusement.
“What do we have here?” His deep voice sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine as he studied her with predatory interest. “A lost lamb, wandering into the wolf’s den?”