Page 8 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
That described Lucy’s aspirations perfectly. She wouldsettlefor a quiet spinsterhood. It was preferable to any number of alternatives, including a stifling marriage where her freedom was curtailed and her boisterous nature crushed. No, this was her only avenue, and she was determined to succeed.
Chapter Two
Andrew checked his cravat in the glass. His valet had done an excellent job. It was a pity that Andrew would have to let him go at the end of the Season, but that would mark two and a half years of service—longer than any valet he’d had before. It was too long. Things were too…comfortable.
“Thank you, Tindall.”
The valet nodded. “Just so, my lord. The coach is waiting.”
Damn, he’d neglected to inform his staff that he would be deviating from his normal routine. He typically rendezvoused with his friends at their club, and they determined their evening entertainments from there. Tonight, however, he would venture out as he never did—alone. Only, he wouldn’t be alone for long. The question was where his night would go from there.
“I don’t require the coach this evening. Sorry for the trouble.” He took his hat and gloves from Tindall before quitting his chamber and donned them as he hurried downstairs. He hoped he wasn’t leaving too late.
A footman held the door for him as he left, and he saw that the coach was already being driven back to the mews. Damn, if his staff wasn’t efficient. But then he supposed they worked doubly hard for fear of getting sacked, since he was known to let people go seemingly on a whim. It wasn’t a whim to him, of course, but a calculated effort to maintain a household that was pleasantly detached. Sometimes he felt bad, but it was necessary. Furthermore, he always provided an excellent reference and ensured they landed in an equal or better position.
It was a cool spring evening as he departed Audley Square and cut down to Curzon Street. He moved briskly, concerned that he was going to miss his window of opportunity.
Less than ten minutes later, he arrived at his destination on Bolton Street. He slipped behind the corner of the house on the end of the street and took up a surveillance position. People came and went, but not from the house he watched. He shifted his stance countless times and more than once considered abandoning his post. But he couldn’t. After what seemed an eternity, he wondered if she just wasn’t going out tonight.
Stifling a yawn, he finally saw movement across the street. A figure emerged from the servants’ stairs. He—no, he was a she—looked furtively from side to side before stepping onto the pavement and hurrying toward Piccadilly.
Andrew took a deep breath and dashed across the street, intercepting her at the corner. “Good evening, Miss Parnell. Where are we off to this evening?”
She stopped upon seeing him and now glared up at him, her jaw clenched. “You were waiting for me.”
“I was. Couldn’t let you venture out alone again. I’m sure you understand.”
“I understand you’re a nuisance.”
He straightened his coat. “So you like to say, but I prefer to think of myself as an assistant. Or maybe even aguide.”
She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again. Then she turned but didn’t move away. She spun back around, her gaze a glorious blaze of outraged affront. “How did you find out who I am?”
He’d felt beholden to learn her identity and to do whatever he could to prevent her from behaving recklessly. “I watched where you went last night, ascertained who lived at that address, and the rest was quite simple.”
“Well, good for you, but that changes nothing.” Her gaze turned wary. “Unless you plan to expose me.”
“I do not. I’m the Duke of Daring, not the Duke of Gossip.” He decided he liked the nickname she’d given him.
She frowned. It seemed she still didn’t trust him.
“Does your grandmother know what you’re about?” he asked.
For the first time, she looked worried. “No, and you mustn’t tell her.” She glanced away. “I don’t wish to concern her. She has enough weighing on her mind.”
He moved closer and spoke softly. “I won’t tell her, but you must agree to my terms.”
She went back to glaring at him, and he realized he’d tensed at her reaction to his question about her grandmother. It was much easier to deal with her anger than her distress. “I should’ve known you meant to extort me, but I still don’t understand why.”
“I’m a gentleman, Miss Parnell, and a gentleman does not allow a lady to continue as you are. I would never forgive myself. Daring exploits are fine and good for me, but not for you.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips curled into a snarl. “Is that what you think this is? Some sort of escapade I’ve undertaken for a bit of excitement? How nice it must be to live for such nonsense.”
He ignored her insults, realizing he’d hit another nerve—like the comment she’d made about being unmarried the night before. He’d learned very little about her today, just that her grandmother was the widow of a baronet and that Miss Parnell was as good as on the shelf. He might not be the Duke of Gossip, but he knew how to obtain information when he needed it.
He crossed his arms over his chest, undaunted. “Then tell me why you’re forced to do this. I truly wish to help. Is my solicitude that shocking?”
She stared at him, clearly disbelieving. “Yes, actually. No one pays me any mind. Or at least, they never have.” She glanced down at herself. “I suppose it took me dressing up as a man.” When she looked at him again, she seemed resigned. “You’re incredibly pompous.”
