Page 2 of Bad Duke

“Alex, dukes don’t run whore houses.”

“And neither do I.” I make that point very fucking clear, ignoring the way Samuel sniggers. I’d just love to put that fucker’s face through the Stanley trophy cabinet on the other side of the room.

“I’ve turned a blind eye to what you have done over the years. I’ve kept out of your business. Now, I’m asking you to do what’s right. Not just for me but for your ancestors.” He glances around the room where portraits of my grandfather and his father before him watch over us. They all have the same intimidating eyes as my father and the walls seem to move in on me when I realise how real this is. Of course, I’ve always known what I was born to become. I’m Theodore Stanley’s only child, let alone son. The man spent years enjoying the bachelor life, then panicked when he got to his fifties without an heir. That’s when he met my mother and chose her to be the one whose life he destroyed.

“Myself and Samuel have been looking into some potential matches.” He calls Samuel closer to the table and when he starts pulling photographs from a brown envelope I immediately start to laugh again. These fuckers can’t be serious.

“What the hell is this?” I stare at the six female faces that are staring up at me from the desk.

“This is Emellie Deauvier, her father is?—”

“No…” I cut Samuel off. “...What I meant was, why are you showing me these women? Do you seriously expect me to pick a fucking wife from your index?” I look back down at the women that these men, who barely know me, have deemed suitable for me to commit to, and laugh even harder.

“Having an heir is fundamental to this family's future,” Father reminds me.

“You didn’t care about that until you were in your fifties, why should I?” I question him harshly.

“Because, Alex, we must learn from our predecessors' mistakes. Maybe I was too old to take an interest in you. I let you become what you are and now I go to my deathbed with the worry that you will fuck up everything that our family has worked for.” I feel my fists clench with anger, how the fuck can this asshole dare to judge me.

“You will need a wife, someone to steady you, someone to remind any doubters that this family still deserves its title, and someone to assist you in carrying that title on.”

“I don’t need the whole ‘with great power comes great responsibility’ speech. And I sure as fuck don’t need a wife.” I collect the pictures, one by one, and shove them into Samuel’s chest before I head for the door. I have to get the fuck out of here before I end up busting an old man’s face.

“Alex!” My father calls out to me before I reach the door. “Do not let this family down.”

I turn around and look up at the picture of my grandfather, he was a man I never got to meet, but one I’ve been told great things about.

“Well, I can’t do any worse than you did.” I insult my father one last time before heading out the door and slamming it behind me.

I stomp out of the house and across the gravel to my car so I can get the hell out of there.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” Another voice I know well stops me, and despite the mood I’m in I smile as I turn around.

“Why the fuck are you still working here?” I shake my head when I see Will, standing with a rifle cocked over his arms and his boots thick with mud.

“No one knows the estate like I do.” He shoots me with a cocky grin as he rests his ass on the bonnet of my motor. Taking the blunt from behind his ear and sparking it up.

“So, you were summoned by the boss, huh?” He gestures his head towards the window of my father's office. I’ve got no doubt that we’re being watched, but I don’t care.

“I was.” I suddenly feel a little bad for the fact I don’t care that my father’s dying either, especially since Will lost his old man twenty years ago. Jack Rudge was a good man. Everything I learned that was worth knowing came from him. I much preferred suppers down at the cottage with him and Will than the lavish meals I’d have to tolerate with my parents. I never had many friends growing up. Mum refused to send me to the boarding school that all the other kids in our society went to. My father wouldn’t let me go public so I was homeschooled. Will and I were like brothers, and this estate was our playground.

“You know, he hasn’t left his bed for almost two months. He got himself up and dressed today for you.” Will informs me, looking sorry for the old bastard.

“Do they say how long he’s got?” I take the blunt from my childhood friend’s fingers and draw back on it. I’ve got to be honest, you can’t beat homegrown shit.

“I got a little thing going with one of the maids, Leah. She thinks maybe a few weeks, but who knows?” He shrugs his shoulders back at me.

“I’ve got to head back to the city.” I open my car door.

“How is city life?” Will asks sarcastically. When I left home ten years ago I asked Will to come with me, he was living in one of the estate cottages with Barnaby and his wife, Mary, earning next to nothing as a junior gamekeeper and there was nothing left for him here. But these grounds are all he’d ever known. My father had always promised to give him Jack’s job as soon as he was old enough and he was content with that.

“Chaotic,” I answer as I get behind the wheel.

“Yeah, must be real hard having all those women throw themselves at you.” He laughs. I stare back at him, wondering how the fuck he knows what I get up to.

“I’ve got a phone, I see the headlines. And Leah likes to read those magazines your face keeps popping up in. So does your father.”

“You should stop by the club sometime, have yourself some fun.” I ignore whatever point he’s trying to get at. The tabloids seem to like reporting the shit I do, which makes running my other line of business hard sometimes. I’m happy to give them a little of what they like to see from time to time, in order to keep some discretion on other aspects of my lifestyle.

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