Page 1 of The Duke of Aces
Prologue
Avondale House Party
Scotland
“Isuggest youcease glaring at everyone, or the moniker of Ice Queen shall transfer from me to you.” Minerva, Isadora Malbury’s oldest sister, harshly whispered behind her fan.
Dropping her gaze to the floor, Isadora replied, “There is not a single guest who we are acquainted with. Avondale’s set are all strangers, and you know how uncomfortable that makes me.” She covertly scanned the room once more. Her knowledge of the half dozen male guests was limited to what she could recall fromDebrett’s, which at present, meant she only knew of their titles and ages. Isadora knew even less of the female guests, who comprised of the gentlemen’s sisters and ladies from neighboring estates.
Minerva’s white-laced fan fluttered. “Which begs the question as to exactly how is it that we received an invitation.”
Keeping her ties to the Wicked Ladies Salon a secret was extremely difficult, especially for Minerva, who was exceptionally perceptive. Isadora turned to her sister, who was at least acknowledging the other guests as they waltzed past them. “It was Lady Charlotte who extended the kind offer for us to attend.”
“Lady Charlotte?” Minerva frowned. “She hasn’t even been presented at court.” Her sister’s frown deepened as she looked over Isadora’s shoulder. “Our host has finally made an appearance.”
Minerva need not have announced the man’s appearance, for a surge of heat radiated down Isadora’s spine, a unique sensation she experienced only when the man entered her sphere. Her natural abhorrence of strangers was oddly missing when the Duke of Avondale was in the same room as her. She stepped closer to Minerva as if her sister could somehow hide her from their host, which ignited a peculiar spark of interest within Isadora. A curiosity that burrowed under Isadora’s skin and did not end until the man was no longer within sight.
“How strange.” Minerva’s gaze bored into Isadora. “It appears that the duke has decided not to grace us with his company this eve.”
Isadora exhaled slowly. She forced the corner of her lips up and said, “Mayhap he simply wishes to be alone.”
“Or it could be that the rumors he has his own agenda for the duration of the house party are true.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I overheard the matrons earlier. One theorized he has a paramour tucked away in his chambers, and the other believes he is on the hunt for a wife this Season and is assessing his options from afar.”
Isadora’s stomach clenched. “Both sound ridiculous to me.” Isadora’s mind and body began to react to the news, which should have neither bothered her nor intrigued her.
“I disagree. He is of the age where he needs to consider siring an heir. And since we know little of him and his set, his lack of appearance could very well be due to him choosing to remain abed with a willing woman. We both know someone who has that propensity.”
“Aye. Father.” Isadora’s sire was an ungrateful and selfish man. The type of man Isadora swore she would never end up married to herself.
Minerva’s sharp, intelligent gaze scanned the room once again. “There is a certain quality about the gentlemen that the Duke of Avondale chooses to consort with.”
Mirroring her sister’s actions, Isadora scanned the room to identify what it was that had Minerva on edge. Drawing upon herDebrett’sknowledge, she rattled off, “An Earl. A Baron. A second son…they all appear to be gentlemen, nothing out of the ordinary.”
“I wasn’t referring to their rank. They are all shrouded with an air of danger. I can’t help but think they are like foxes in a hen house.”
“You have an overactive mind.”
“So I’ve been told. Albeit three years of observing others from the fringes, I know one thing for certain—these men are not what they appear to be.”
“If they are not idle, spoiled aristocratic men, what are they?”
“I’ve not formed an opinion as yet, but by the end of the house party, I hope to know if we should continue our acquaintance for the upcoming Season or not.”
Isadora had a similar purpose. She was here on the behalf of the Wicked Ladies Salon to assess this year’s applicant, Lady Charlotte, to determine if the lady was worthy of membership. “I shall do the same.”
Minerva arched an eyebrow at her. It was obvious her sister was still concerned as to how they came to be guests among strangers.
“From afar, of course.” Remaining aloof wasn’t a problem for Isadora. Her gaze fell to a potted plant near the far corner. A shadow appeared and then disappeared. The Duke of Avondale? Isadora blinked. The dark form was gone.
What the blazes was her host up to?
Isadora shook her head. She needed to remain focused on her mission. It wasn’t the Duke of Avondale who she needed to observe and deem worthy; it was his sister. Although the gentleman sparked a curiosity within Isadora. Inquisitiveness and a desire to solve mysteries were family traits she wished she didn’t possess, but Isadora knew this oddity would haunt her until she fully investigated it.
She glanced at the laughing Lady Charlotte playing hostess. She was mature well beyond her mere eighteen years. Should Lady Charlotte be welcomed into the sisterhood of the Wicked Ladies? The only way to discover the answer was to spend the next two weeks at her host’s side. Investigating the peculiar feeling His Grace evoked within her would have to wait until they were in London for the Season.
