A Duke Is Always Wicked

By Rebecca Leigh

Sophie Pettigrew was in dire straits. Her brother, Edward, had been in London living the high life since he came into his title of Viscount Litchfield after the death of their father. Now, he had gambled and lost everything. The only thing Sophie had left in this world was a derelict old crumbling down abbey and a small allowance left to her by her mother which was barely enough to buy food. She was desperate and desperate times called for desperate measures.
When Sophie walked into the famous gaming house, The Devil's Lair, to plead with Mr. Benedict Kingston, the proprietor, not to allow her brother to gamble away the only thing she had left, there was no way she could imagine how that night would change her life.
Benedict Kingston normally didn't get involved in the personal problems of the men that gambled and lost at The Lair. But when the beautiful and enticing Sophie Pettigrew walked into his apartments to plead with him to never allow her brother to gamble there again, he couldn't help but be intrigued by her beauty and curious about her circumstances. When he discovered the despicable plans her brother had for her, he couldn't stand by and watch something so lovely be hurt by the one person who should have been protecting her. After Benedict found himself thrust into a position of power and prominence he never aspired to, the proposal he had for Sophie was the perfect solution to both of their problems.
Sophie had not expected to see Benedict Kingston again after that night she visited him at The Devil's Lair, but when he offered her a proposal that would be beneficial to them both, how could she refuse? If she could just somehow manage to resist his charming smile and wicked suggestions, then one day she would have the freedom to live her life as she wanted and would be safe from her brother's schemes.
By offering Sophie Pettigrew marriage, he was solving two problems. As his wife, he would be able to protect her from her brother and assuage his guilt in the hand he played in her brother's downfall, and Sophie being from a prominent aristocratic family, would be able to help him navigate the ton in ways he had previously been unable to do. It was the perfect solution, except that the more time he spent with the beautiful young Sophie, the more he realized it would be impossible to let her go and give her the freedom he had promised her.
Just when Benedict realizes the futility of revisiting the charms of his beautiful wife, an unknown assailant fueled by jealousy and revenge tried to take it all away. Would Benedict be able to stop the culprit before Sophie was hurt or would his actions cause him to lose her forever?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 23, 2024
• ISBN: 9798350942460

Rebecca Leigh

Rebecca Leigh is a romance junkie with an especially sweet spot for regency romances. The one thing she enjoys more than reading a good book, is writing one. Rebecca is the mother of three adult children and currently lives in Texas with her husband of nearly thirty years and a pittie named Monster.

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A Duke Is Always Wicked

©2024 Rebecca Leigh

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

print ISBN: 979-8-35094-245-3

ebook ISBN: 979-8-35094-246-0

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter 16

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty- Seven

Epilogue

Chapter One

London, 1816

Popular Gaming Establishment, The Devil’s Lair

Y ou seem distracted tonight, mon amour. Do I not please you?

Benedict Kingston shook his head a bit to clear the fog that had settled there and leaned in a bit closer to the lady sitting on his lap intending to feather kisses along her neck to make up for his lack of attention, but after having to push aside the many feathers she wore across the top of her nearly nonexistent bodice, and got a whiff of her overly oppressive flowery perfume, he decided that tonight would not be the night to take Anabella Blanchet to his bed. He prided himself on perfection, and tonight he simply would not be giving the lady his best.

Anabella, I’m afraid the rigors of the day have me over-tired. Perhaps another time. He traced the skin along her arm and smiled when her lips pouted prettily. There was no doubt Anabella knew how to please a man, and he was certain that she wouldn’t leave the Lair to go home alone. There would be another man waiting to sample her charms, there always was.

Anabella moved to straddle him as he sat in the chair. Her bosom bouncing nicely as she adjusted herself. She was a temptress. Ah, mon chou, but I can make you forget about your troubles. Her voice was sultry, and her moves practiced. She leaned in closer allowing him a generous view of her breasts, which wasn’t all that difficult considering her bodice did little to cover them in the first place. Her fingers traced over his ear as she began untying his cravat. Her warm breath fanning over his throat as she whispered, Fais moi l’mour, darling.

Under normal circumstances, he might have taken her up on her offer to make love to her, but tonight she was becoming more of an annoyance than an enticement. He gripped her waist with both hands and lifted her off his lap.

Take a bit of advice from a man who knows more about seduction than most and what men crave in a woman, you are trying much too hard.

He watched as her eyes narrowed into angry slits and her lips pursed in outrage. You are a bastard, monsieur.

Kingston’s grin transformed into something more feral. That’s another thing, love. You and I both know you aren’t French. Hell, all of London knows you are not French. Your accent is almost as bad as that little black mole you paint on the edge of your lips.

The sharp crack of her hand against his cheek was loud enough to be heard in the gaming rooms upstairs, but he would not give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I believe you know the way out.

Anabella’s cheeks were red and blotchy now as she stood before him fuming with rage. I hope you die old and alone with rats feeding upon your cold black heart.

Kingston rolled his eyes as he walked toward the door. Now we can add overly dramatic to your list of attributes, Annabella. He opened the door and stood to the side hoping she would leave without causing any more unnecessary drama.

His smile widened as she stomped from the room, her skirts swishing past him, while she spouted even more vile curses from her lips. He sighed heavily, glad to be rid of her histrionics, and was about to close the door when he saw Sam standing across the hall. Can this wait till tomorrow, Sam? It’s late and after spending most of the evening entertaining the prince, I just want to get some rest.

He watched as his second in command shuffled his feet nervously and looked down awkwardly. I’m not certain this can wait. There is a lady to see you.

He dropped his arms to the side and threw back his head in annoyance. Bloody hell, another one?! Do the ladies in London have nothing better to do than to see whose bed they can crawl into?

Sam cleared his throat loudly and swallowed hard before placing a hand over his eyes as a cloaked figure stepped from behind him.

I’m not here to warm your bed, Mr. Kingston.

Her cultured voice alone was enough to bring his cock to attention, it was soft and soothing, unlike many of the women he encountered, but when she lowered the hood that obscured her face, he was taken aback. She had the face of an angel, well, a very severe and angry angel. She took a step forward. The tilt of her chin and the way she moved, spine straight, head up, the way her eyes met his unafraid, confirmed that she was indeed a refined lady of some prominence or means.

And that statement, my dear, is the biggest disappointment I have had in some time.

The angel before him didn’t even crack a smile. Might I have a word with you or not?

Kingston glanced over to Sam before looking back to the lady before him. Certainly, if you will come inside and have a seat, I will be with you momentarily.

He stepped aside as the lady gracefully sailed past him and he had the opportunity to get a closer look at her. Her deep blue eyes were framed with long dark lashes, her skin was fair and from what he could see, flawless, and her full pink lips were made for kissing. Everything about her; her voice, the way she walked and held herself, her looks, all confirmed his suspicion that she was indeed a lady of quality. But what would a lady be doing at The Devil’s Lair, at this hour especially?

Please have a seat, I will be but just a moment.

He closed the door and looked at Sam as he whispered softly. While I do appreciate variety, I must ask, who the hell is she?

Sam once again had that glum-faced look that suggested he was about to impart some sort of tragic news upon him. She is Lord Pettigrew’s sister.

For Christ’s sake! Will I ever be free of that idiot? Kingston replied rather loudly, his vexation evident.

Lord Pettigrew was a young lord that came into his title at the ripe age of twenty and two and had lost nearly everything he owned at the Lair a few months earlier. Kingston had tried to stop him from gaming on numerous occasions. He even went as far as to invite him for drinks in his private apartments hoping he could have a conversation with the foolish young man before he lost his entire inheritance. His efforts were met with fiery resistance and at last Kingston washed his hands of the situation and decided that Pettigrew could reap what he sewed, let the duns have their way with him.

Pettigrew had come to him after the fact accusing him of not running an honest establishment, and any sympathy he might have had for the young man vanished at that point. Now it seems, Pettigrew has sent his sister to plead his case. Unfortunately for them both, he was not feeling the least bit generous or forgiving.

He narrowed his eyes just a fraction as he looked back at Sam. Wait here, this will not take long and then you can escort her out.

Sam nodded as he resumed his place against the back wall. Kingston took a deep breath, clearly not in the mood for this conversation.

When he walked back into the sitting area of his apartments on the bottom floor of The Devil’s Lair, he saw that the lady was sitting with her back rigid and her hands clasped tightly in her lap. He took a moment to admire her appearance and lamented the fact that her overly large cloak concealed her figure leaving it entirely up to his imagination. Luckily, he had a vivid imagination. Momentarily taken aback by her stunning beauty, he shook his head and remembered that he was about to send her on her way, not try to lure her into his bed.

How may I be of assistance to you, Miss Pettigrew?

Kingston watched her as she wet her lips with her tongue before speaking. It was an innocent action and one certainly not meant to make his cock tighten, but it did, nonetheless.

I came to speak with you about my brother, Mr. Kingston.

He moved over to the edge of the room where a decanter of brandy sat and poured himself a glass. Would you like a drink, Miss Pettigrew?

He saw her perfect little nose twitch just a bit. No, thank you.

Very well, go on, you were speaking of your brother.

She blinked her eyes a few times as she watched him move around to take the seat in front of her.

Yes, it seems my brother has made some foolish decisions that have left us in a dire situation.

Kingston took a sip of his drink never taking his eyes off the woman before him. She was so beautiful he was having a difficult time concentrating on her words. Your brother is a bad gambler, Miss Pettigrew.

Obviously. I didn’t come here to argue facts with you, Mr. Kingston. There was a bitter edge of cynicism to her voice.

Then why are you here?

He saw her cheeks pinken as if she were embarrassed by the situation.

I came to…plead with you to have mercy on him. She nearly strangled on the words as they left her lips.

Kingston could tell by the expression on her face that the idea of pleading for anything was abhorrent to her. Miss Pettigrew, please let me save you the trouble and the discomfiture. I saw the path your brother was headed down and believe me I tried to stop him. There were numerous occasions that either I or my associate Sam, whom you met earlier, tried to get your brother to stop gambling. I had conversations with him regarding his carelessness, but he insisted that it was none of my concern. As a result of his foolish pride, I now own everything he possesses. He gave her a lingering look. Well, almost everything.

She stood from her seat rather abruptly. Yes, I can imagine. Edward has never liked anyone to tell him what to do. She walked a few steps away. The furniture and paintings were the first things to disappear. Edward always assured me that it was necessary for him to maintain the lifestyle fitting his position. She turned back to face him. Her eyes were so expressive and filled with contempt. The servants were the next to go and then the house. I suppose if I was successful in convincing you to return what Edward has lost, it would make no difference. If he didn’t gamble here, it would be somewhere else. I do have one request if you will oblige me.

He leaned back and contently took another sip of his drink. The way she was looking at him was making him feel uncharacteristically sympathetic and that was a weakness. Weakness was one thing he could not afford.

I’m not sure I can help you, Miss Pettigrew, but I am listening.

She nodded her head causing her dark chestnut-colored curls to bounce with the movement. After Edward lost the house, I moved into an old abbey that had belonged to my mother’s family. It’s small but adequate and all that I have left, but I know it is only a matter of time before he wagers that too. I am asking you not to allow it.

Kingston stood from his seat and watched as she instinctively moved back from him. You said that you moved into the abbey? Surely, you are not living there alone, Miss Pettigrew.

She turned her face quickly away from him. I misspoke. Of course not.

Kingston didn’t believe her. He knew a lie when he heard one and her eyes once again gave her away. I will not allow your brother to wager here again, Miss Pettigrew, but as you are aware, I can’t stop him from gaming elsewhere.

She nodded perfunctorily. I understand that, and I am not asking for anything more. Thank you for your time. While I didn’t get everything that I came here for, at least I have your assurance about the abbey. She swiveled around to leave, and Kingston rushed to the door to open it before she reached it.

He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips thinking it very small and cold. I am sorry for your troubles, Miss Pettigrew.

He stood to the side as she swept past him. When she was out of hearing, he looked back to Sam. Escort her out of here, then have a man shadow her and find out everything he can but make certain he knows to be discreet. I don’t want her to discover that I am having her followed.

Sam nodded and rushed after her. Kingston walked back into his sitting room and poured himself another drink. Lord Pettigrew and his attractive sister were not his concern. The sooner he was assured of her safety and well-being, he could put her out of his mind completely and get back to his plans for expanding his business to Brighton. He had already discussed his idea with the prince and if he were lucky, he had a few infamous dukes that might be interested in investing in the endeavor. He did not have time for Pettigrew or his sister.

Sophie climbed into the hired hack after telling the driver her destination. She would not be returning to the abbey tonight. Luckily her friend Jeanine was in London visiting her grandmother and had offered to let her to stay with them. The invitation was a godsend as she didn’t have much money left. The money she would save by staying with her friend would afford her the luxury of a meal tomorrow when she took the mail coach back to Berkshire. It would take a few days to reach the abbey and all the money she had brought with her to pay for her room at the inn and something to eat.

Her hands were still shaking from her encounter with Mr. Kingston, the proprietor of the Devil’s Lair. When she made the decision to travel to London, it was with the intention of finding her brother and bringing him back to Abingdon. She did not, however, decide to visit Mr. Kingston until after Jeanine suggested that she should ask him for his help. It had made her feel sick to think of begging the man for what her brother had so carelessly lost at the tables. She had been halfway hoping he would take pity on her and grant some of what was lost back, but she could not ask, and it was ridiculous to think he would have any sort of compassion for her and her situation.

She had not known what to expect when she went to the infamous gaming establishment nor had she expected to find the proprietor, Mr. Kingston, to be a well-dressed attractive man. In her mind, she had pictured him as an ogre or pox-ridden villain. But he was nothing like what she had envisioned. Jeanine had offered to go with her, but she was already ashamed of the predicament her brother had forced her into, she had no desire for her friend to see her beg to a man she had never met. So, she had swallowed what little pride she still possessed and managed to get Mr. Kingston’s assurance that he would not allow her brother to gamble further.

When the carriage came to a stop outside her friend’s grandmother’s townhome far from the mansions of Grosvenor Square and Mayfair, she climbed out without any assistance and ran up the steps just as rain began falling from the sky. The dark skies and cold wind seemed to replicate how she was feeling inside, alone and hopeless. Her brother had constantly gotten into trouble growing up, but to lose everything her family owned, throwing everything away gambling, drinking, and heaven knew what else he was involved with. He might be three years older than her, but she couldn’t help but feel responsible for him. Her search for him in London had come to no avail, and now she would return to the abbey alone.

She removed her cloak and hung it on the pin beside the door just as Jeanine ran down the stairs to greet her.

Sophie? Thank goodness you are back. I have been so worried. You really shouldn’t have gone out alone, especially at this time of night. Are you alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he? I should have gone with you.

Sophie gave her friend a tired smile and tried to remain patient as her friend rattled on. I am fine, Jeanine.

Her friend took her hand and together they went upstairs. You have to tell me more than that. Did you actually get to speak with Mr. Kingston? What did he say? Is he going to return what your brother lost?

Sophie held up her hand. Please, one question at a time. Yes, I was allowed to speak with Mr. Kingston, and no I didn’t ask him to return what my brother lost at his tables. I just couldn’t. Besides, he is in the business of running a gaming establishment and if he returned everything people lost, he would not stay in business very long. I did however get him to agree that he will not allow my brother to gamble anymore at the Devil’s Lair, but of course, you know as well as I do that is not a guarantee that the abbey will be safe.

Her friend’s lips dipped into a deeper frown. You can’t go back there, Sophie. It isn’t safe for you to stay there alone.

Sophie felt her head begin to ache and she was incredibly tired. It wasn’t as if she wanted to return to the abbey. It was an old derelict building. There were a few holes in the roof that leaked when it rained, the old stone walls were cold and did little to offer any warmth or make one feel secure, most of the windows were cracked or broken and at night, it was the loneliest and most desolate place she could imagine. As much as she dreaded returning to the abbey, she knew she must, it was all she had left, and the only place she could think of where her brother might eventually show up.

The abbey is my home now, as dilapidated as it is, and I must be there in case Edward returns. He is my brother and surely has not forgotten my existence entirely.

Jeanine followed her into the bedroom they had allowed her to stay in while in London. Her bag was packed, and everything was ready for her departure first thing in the morning.

Your brother should have someone beat him senseless for what he is putting you through. I can’t believe he would do what he has done and leave you alone to pick up the pieces. You must give some thought to your future, Sophie. You can’t stay at the abbey alone forever. You will need to make a living somehow. Perhaps you could apply for a governess position. With your education and your father being the former Viscount, it would be perfect for you.

Sophie sank down on the bed. Most good families do not want to hire the sister of a disgraced lord who gambled, drank, and whored away his inheritance living in their home and teaching their children. But I will find something suitable, don’t worry about me. She squeezed her friend’s hand and tried to give her a smile that would belie the way she was feeling inside and convince her that she was indeed telling the truth. I do have to get up early tomorrow and should get some sleep. It is already well past three.

Jeanine sighed heavily. I will expect letters from you.

Sophie laughed softly. I might have to invest in pigeons if I can’t afford the post.

Her attempt at humor was not well received. That’s not funny, Sophie.

I’m sorry. You will receive a letter from me as soon as I am back in Abingdon.

Jeanine nodded and walked to the door. I still think you should stay here with me until I return home.

Goodnight, Jeanine.

Her friend closed the door and Sophie fell back against the pillows, a heavy sense of desperation hovering over her. She felt like weeping but there were no more tears. She had cried when the furniture was sold, and her heart broke even more when the horses, including her own horse that she had raised from a filly was sold at auction, and when she was forced from the manor house and had to move to the abbey, she had cried what she thought was her last tear, there simply was only so many. Now she had to be strong to survive and being strong meant that she had no time to feel sorry for herself. She lay still and stared up at the ceiling for a few minutes before closing her eyes. The sun would be up soon, and she would be traveling back to what was now her home, and she would have to make the best of it.

Chapter Two

The Next Day

Kingston sat in his office on the second floor of the gaming house, going over the numbers from the night before. Prinny and his entourage of admirers and followers had decided to spend a good portion of their evening at The Lair. The friendship he had developed with the future monarch was advantageous, to say the least but could at times be tedious. One advantage was that the prince’s visits to his establishment tended to be quite lucrative. His profits seemed to increase considerably anytime the prince and his close circle of friends decided to gamble the night away. It seemed that the gentlemen of the ton were even more anxious to lose money when the future king was in attendance. He paused when there was a knock on the door. It had to be Sam, no one else would disturb him at this time of day.

Come in.

But it wasn’t Sam that opened the door. Instead, it was his friend and confidant Charles Newberg, the Duke of Avanley. Prinny had mentioned that he was here last night. I imagine you are rather happy with the result of his visit.

Kingston leaned back in his chair and motioned for his friend to take a seat. While society dictated that he should have stood and bowed in reference to Avanley’s title, their relationship was much more casual. Of course, when in public he would show the respect that was due his friend, in private they could be more informal.

The money others lose while trying to boost their standing in the prince’s eyes does help make up for his losses that I have to pay back as a measure of friendship.

Charles’ laughter was deep and low as he took a seat in front of his friend’s desk. Yes, it can be tiresome at times being in Prinny’s favor.

Kingston shrugged his shoulders in resignation agreeing with his friend. I thought you and the ever lovely, Isobel would have already quit London and retired to Avanley Hall for the summer.

Charles’ eyebrows rose slightly higher. Since you broke the news to us that we had been summoned to Brighton for two weeks to entertain his majesty, we decided there was no need to leave London in a rush. The house party we had planned to host at Avanley Hall will have to wait till next year.

It’s only two weeks, surely you can find the time to still host your party.

Charles’ lips lifted on one side in a lop-sided grin. Time we may have, my willingness to lose any more of it where my wife is concerned is limited, however.

Kingston grinned mischievously at his friend’s comment. Charles had been one of the biggest rakes, if not the biggest in London, before he was forced into a marriage he did not want with the beautiful Isobel. Their relationship may not have begun on the best terms, but it did not take long for Charles to fall in love with his lovely bride, and he has been reluctant to leave her side ever since.

You know I have other reasons for joining the prince when he retires to Brighton at the end of the season.

Charles leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. You want to expand your empire and open another gaming house in Brighton.

Kingston reached for a bottle of brandy on his desk. Would you like a drink?

Charles shook his head. No, thank you.

Very well, you truly have become domesticated.

I wouldn’t say that, but when you do have a wife and children your priorities tend to shift more in that direction.

Kingston wouldn’t know anything about that. His father’s main priority was making money and teaching him the necessary skills to do the same and after losing his mother at the young age of seven, he knew little else.

I want you as well as Hawksford and Leicester to invest with me. Davenport is even thinking of throwing his hat in the ring, so to speak. As the new Duke of Stafford, he has the funds to invest and thinks a fortune could be made there.

Charles sat back and regarded his friend from across the desk. Who will run the new establishment? I know you aren’t willing to leave London or The Devil’s Liar, and if Sam takes over the new place, that doesn’t leave anyone here to watch the gaming and allow you to chase your more… pleasurable pursuits.

Kingston grinned wryly thinking of Annabella and how he had refused her charms the night before. All the details have not been worked out yet, but I’m sure we could come up with a solution.

Perhaps while we are all in Brighton, we can help you come up with an idea.

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Come in.

This time it was Sam standing in the doorway. I’m sorry to disturb you, but James has returned from the errand you sent him on last night, and I thought you might wish to speak with him.

Charles stood from his seat. I suppose I will see you in Brighton.

Kingston rose in one fluid motion to shake his friend’s hand. If not before.

He watched as Charles left the room before turning to Sam. Send him in.

He resumed his seat as James, another of his employees, came in, hat in hand.

Did you follow her?

The man nodded. I did, sir. She took a hack to a small townhouse far from the fashionable side of London. It belongs to an older lady, a widow. Miss Pettigrew was staying with her while in London. Apparently, she is friends with the lady’s granddaughter.

Kingston folded his hands together, the tips of his fingers resting under his chin. I commend you on discovering so much in such a short time, James. What else do you know?

Her given name is Sophie. I learned that from the gentleman who lives next door. He seems to have developed an interest in the girl, but she spurned his advances. James grinned just a bit. The man selling bread on the street told me that part.

Kingston frowned wondering if the man had been a nuisance to Miss Pettigrew. I want you to keep an eye on her and find out as much as you can about her situation.

That’s going to be difficult, sir. She took the mail coach this morning to Abingdon in Berkshire. She is returning to her home there.

Kingston stood abruptly. Surely she isn’t traveling alone!

That she is. The gentleman we spoke of earlier was right upset about it, calling her a foolish chit for refusing his offer and leaving to return to an empty home where she has no protection. If you ask me, she needed protection from him.

Bloody hell! He began pacing the floor behind his desk. I knew she was lying to me. He spun around to face James. Pack your things. I want you to leave for Abingdon right away. Find out where she lives and report back to me. I want to know everything.

James looked at him in surprise. Everything, boss?

Damn it, yes! But don’t let her know. Keep quiet and be discreet. He stalked to the door and jerked it open. Sam!

His second-in-command jumped slightly before rushing over. James is leaving today for Berkshire. See that he has what he needs.

Yes, sir. I’ll see to it that he is gone within the hour.

Sam’s sense of urgency didn’t appease his foul mood. And Sam, find her goddamn brother!

Both James and Sam rushed from the room to do as they were instructed, and Kingston went back into his office slamming the door behind him. He walked over to his desk and poured himself a hefty glass of brandy. He paused with the glass just at his lips. He never should have agreed to meet Miss Pettigrew. She had played upon his sympathies and now he couldn’t get the blasted woman out of his head. Damn her brother for being a foolish and reckless arse. He turned the glass up and drank the entire contents before slamming the empty glass back down on his desk.

He moved around to retake his seat behind his desk. He had work to do and thinking about the lovely and misfortunate Miss Pettigrew wasn’t getting it done. Could this day get any worse? he mumbled to himself as he resumed going over his ledgers. His words were prophetic, because in a few hours, he would realize just how much worse it could be.

Two Hours Later

The day had not gone as expected, but Sam had assured him that James was well on his way to Abingdon to find Miss Pettigrew and would probably make it there before her since she was traveling by a much slower method of transportation. Once he discovered the circumstances surrounding the young lady, he could do what he needed to appease his conscience and then he could put her out of his mind forever.

Papers and ledgers were spread across his desk. He was looking over the contract for a building he was interested in leasing in Brighton when he was once again disturbed by a sharp tapping on the door. Sam opened the door just enough for Kingston to see half his face.

For God’s sake, Sam, what is it now? At this rate, I’ll never get anything done today.

Sam pushed the door open a little wider. You have another visitor.

Kington waved his hand dismissively. I don’t have time for any more visitors. Send them away.

Sam swallowed nervously and tugged at his cravat. This visitor isn’t going to be sent away so easily.

Kingston paused, narrowing his eyes curiously. It would not be the prince. You have the good sense to know not to have him wait. Is it one of my friends, one of the dukes?

Sam shook his head causing Kingston’s frown to intensify. Well, who the bloody hell is it then? A visiting royal dignitary? Wellington? Or is it Napoleon himself?

I’m afraid it is much worse. Your uncle is here.

Kingston’s mouth nearly dropped open in surprise. My uncle? The Duke of Kenworth?

Sam nodded and nervously looked back to the door. He insists on seeing you.

I’m not interested in anything he has to say.

A deep booming voice sounded loudly from behind Sam causing his friend to jump and Kingston to rise quickly from his seat. But yet you will hear me out nonetheless, Benedict.

Kingston sighed heavily and inclined his head to Sam who quickly left the room closing the door behind him. His uncle moved further into the room. He had aged considerably since he had last seen him. He was more stooped over than before and the lines on his face were deep and sagging. His white hair was thinning on top and when he walked, he did so leaning heavily on the black cane he wielded like a weapon.

It’s been a long time, your grace. What brings you to London? You typically stay clear of the city unless your vote is needed in Parliament. Kingston watched as his uncle came forward and sank down in the chair before his desk. His breathing was heavy, and his jowls sagged with the deep frown on his face.

I wouldn’t be here now if you had answered my letters.

Kingston resumed his seat. "Would you care for