Page 6 of Wedded to the Duke of Sin (Dukes of Passion #2)

CHAPTER 6

“ I assure you, Lady Alice’s reputation is quite safe with me.” Dorian guided his stallion around a particularly treacherous patch of mud, ignoring Gerard’s skeptical expression. “You are beginning to sound like a mother hen.”

“Someone has to.” Gerard kept pace easily on his own mount. “Especially since you seem determined to court scandal.”

“Court scandal? I merely assisted a lady in distress.”

“At a brothel.”

“Pure coincidence.”

“And the musical evening?”

“I enjoy Mozart.”

“Since when?”

“I am wounded by your lack of faith in my cultural refinement.” Dorian’s attention wandered to the stream of fashionable riders entering the park.

The morning was perfect for riding—crisp spring air, dappled sunlight through new leaves, and…

There.

Lady Alice rode beside her friend Lady Joanna, looking distractingly lovely in a dark blue riding habit that emphasized her trim figure. Her copper hair gleamed in the morning light, and her cheeks were flushed from the exercise.

“Ah.” Gerard followed his gaze. “Now I understand your sudden interest in morning rides.”

“I always ride at this hour.”

“No, you don’t.”

Before Dorian could respond, Seraphina joined them, her mare falling into step beside her husband’s horse. “What are we discussing?”

“Dorian’s newfound appreciation for early morning exercise.”

“How fascinating.” Seraphina’s knowing smile was eerily similar to her husband’s. “And would this appreciation have anything to do with certain other riders?”

“I am beginning to miss the days when you two weren’t reunited,” Dorian muttered, but he was already guiding his horse toward Alice.

She spotted him approaching and promptly turned her mare in the opposite direction.

“Not so fast, my lady.” He circled around, cutting off her retreat. “Leaving so soon? But we’ve only just begun our morning constitutional.”

“Your Grace.” Alice’s voice could have frozen the Thames. “How unexpected.”

“Is it? I rather thought you might be avoiding me again.”

“I never avoid anyone. I merely choose my company with care.”

“And yet here we are.”

Lady Joanna’s barely suppressed laughter suggested she was enjoying this exchange far too much.

“A temporary lapse in judgment,” Alice said sweetly. “One I am rectifying immediately.” She made to turn her horse again, but Dorian matched her movement.

“Come now, surely you can spare a few moments for old friends?”

“Old friends? We met barely a week ago.”

“Under rather memorable circumstances.” He lowered his voice. “Though if you’d prefer to recreate our first encounter, I am sure Madame Rosa would be delighted?—”

“You are absolutely the most—” She broke off as another rider approached.

Dorian’s smile dropped as he recognized Lord Treyfield.

The older man’s expression was pleasant enough, but something in his eyes set Dorian’s teeth on edge.

“Your Grace. Lady Alice.” Lord Treyfield’s gaze lingered for a moment too long on Alice. “What a charming picture you make.”

“Lord Treyfield.” Dorian shifted his mount slightly, positioning himself between Alice and the Earl. “I wasn’t aware you frequented the park at this hour.”

“One must keep up with Society’s movements.” Lord Treyfield’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Speaking of which, I’ve been meaning to discuss certain business matters with you. You have fobbed me off for long enough?—”

“How fascinating,” Gregory cut in as he approached their group. “But surely such discussions can wait for a more appropriate venue? Lady Alice was just telling us about the progress of her brother’s courtship with Lady Evelyn.”

Dorian hadn’t noticed Gregory’s arrival, but he could have kissed him for the intervention.

Alice seized the opening.

“Indeed! Such a successful courtship. Though we really must be going—they will be expecting us for breakfast.” She nodded to the company. “Your Grace. My lords.”

As she rode away with Joanna, Dorian caught a flash of confusion in her eyes. She had noticed his reaction to Lord Treyfield—damn it all.

“Your Grace,” Lord Treyfield’s voice hardened slightly. “We really must speak soon. About Lawrence’s affairs.”

A messenger boy appeared before Dorian could respond, holding out a folded note. “Beggin’ your pardon, Your Grace. Most urgent, they said.”

Dorian recognized Sarah’s handwriting immediately. “If you’ll excuse me.”

He didn’t wait for a response before turning his horse around.

“Dorian,” Gerard’s quiet voice stopped him. “Remember what we discussed.”

“Always.” But Dorian’s mind was already racing ahead to what could have prompted Sarah’s urgent message.

As he rode away, he caught one last glimpse of Alice’s retreating figure.

Sunlight caught her hair, transforming it into a fiery spectacle. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine a simpler world—one where he could simply pursue a fascinating woman without the weight of promises and secrets between them.

But he had sworn to protect Sarah and her child. And Lord Treyfield’s growing interest in his movements suggested that he might be running out of time.

Still, as he urged his horse toward the city center, the memory of Alice’s flushed cheeks and flashing eyes stayed with him.

Heaven help him, but the woman was beginning to occupy far too many of his thoughts.

More dangerous still, he was starting to enjoy it.

“Your horse will collapse if you keep up this speed,” Gregory called, catching up to him near Berkeley Square. “Though I must say, watching you flee from both a lady and a lord makes for entertaining sport.”

“I am not fleeing.” Dorian reined in his stallion, scanning Sarah’s note again. “This requires my immediate attention.”

“Everything seems to require your immediate attention lately.” Gregory guided his horse alongside. “Tell me, do you plan to spend the entire Season darting between running mysterious errands and giving Lady Alice meaningful glances?”

“There were no meaningful glances.”

“No? My mistake. You must have been admiring her horse.”

“Don’t you have someone else to torment?”

“Probably. But you are by far the most amusing.” Gregory’s expression grew serious. “Treyfield was watching you both rather closely.”

“I noticed.” Dorian crumpled the note in his fist. “He’s getting bolder.”

“Then perhaps it’s time to—” Gregory broke off as a carriage careened around the corner, its team of horses clearly panicked.

Dorian spotted the danger immediately—a young woman with a child had frozen in the street, directly in the carriage’s path.

Without thinking, he spurred his horse forward, cutting between them and the oncoming vehicle. His stallion reared, forcing the carriage horses to veer sharply.

The carriage lurched, nearly tipping to the side, before the driver regained control. Gregory had already dismounted to assist the woman and child to safety.

“Reckless as ever,” Gregory commented as Dorian rejoined him. “Though I suppose that’s preferable to watching you pine over unavailable ladies.”

“I do not pine.”

“No? Then why were you scowling at every gentleman who so much as glanced in Lady Alice’s direction?”

“I was merely concerned about her reputation.”

“Ah yes, her reputation.” Gregory’s tone shifted to something more serious. “Which, I imagine, is why she’s so desperate to see her brother married to the Westhaven girl.”

Dorian’s attention sharpened. “What do you mean?”

“Come now. Everyone knows the Coltons are practically penniless. Their father left them drowning in debt, and Colton’s gambling habit hasn’t helped matters.” Gregory adjusted his reins. “The Westhavens’ influence—and more importantly, their money—might be their only chance to avoid complete ruin.”

Dorian thought of Alice that night at Madame Rosa’s—her chin lifted in defiance despite her fear, her unwavering determination to protect her brother despite the cost to herself. Even now, she fought for her family’s survival with a quiet dignity that struck him deeply.

“She puts duty above all else,” he said quietly. “Even her own safety.”

“Indeed. Though I must say, most sisters wouldn’t risk walking into a brothel alone to save their brothers from financial ruin.”

She’s not like most sisters.

Gregory’s knowing smile returned. “Which brings us back to your obvious?—”

“Your point?”

“My point, you stubborn fool, is that you are fighting a battle on too many fronts.” Gregory lowered his voice. “Treyfield is circling closer. Sarah needs protection. And now you are developing feelings for a lady who thinks you are nothing but a rake.”

“I am a rake.”

“No, you are an honorable man pretending to be a rake because it’s easier than admitting you care about anything.”

Before Dorian could answer, another messenger approached at a run. “Your Grace! A message from Madame Rosa’s!”

Dorian snatched the note and scanned it quickly. His face darkened. “Treyfield’s men were asking questions. About Lawrence.”

“Damn.” Gregory’s humor vanished. “What will you do?”

“What I must.” Dorian turned his horse around. “Cover for me at the Rutherfords’ dinner tonight?”

“Always. But Dorian—” Gregory’s voice stopped him. “You can’t protect everyone alone.”

“Watch me.” Dorian mounted his horse, Sarah’s urgent note burning in his pocket.

Her second message in as many hours—the first had drawn him away from his morning ride in the park, but this one… This one had sent ice through his veins. If she was right about who she’d seen at Madame Rosa’s…

But as he urged his horse toward the brothel, he couldn’t quite silence the voice suggesting that Gregory could be right.

Madame Rosa’s private office suited its owner—rich but not gaudy, with an air of faded elegance that spoke more of discretion than scandal.

The madam herself, still handsome despite her years, sat behind her mahogany desk like a queen holding court. Her dark eyes, sharp as ever beneath artfully arranged silver curls, watched Dorian with concern.

“One of Lord Treyfield’s men was here,” she said without preamble. “Asking questions about the late Lord Treyfield.”

“What kind of questions?”

“Whether His Lordship had any particular attachments. If he spent more time with certain girls than others.” Her painted lips thinned. “He was quite insistent about it. Poor Jenny—she’s new, you see—nearly went to pieces when he started getting rough with his questioning.”

Dorian balled his fists. “Did they mention Sarah?”

“Not by name. But they’ll be back.” Madame Rosa leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Your Grace, I’ve kept many secrets over the years, but this man… there was something in his manner that worried me. The way he watched everything and everyone… This wasn’t just some hired brute.”

“Treyfield’s getting bolder.” Dorian moved to the window, watching the nighttime traffic in London’s less respectable quarter. “Or more desperate.”

“Either way, it’s dangerous.” Madame Rosa’s silk skirts rustled as she stood up. “I’ll keep Sarah’s name out of it, of course, but you need to move quickly. Men like him don’t stop until they find what they’re looking for.”

Dorian knew damn well that she was right.