Duke of Secrets (Moonlight Square, Book 2) Read online

She wondered how much she dare reach out to him on this delicate subject. “They say you were there when it happened, Your Grace,” she ventured. “That you saw the whole thing, and you were just a boy.”

  Before her eyes, he closed down. A deep wariness stole over his finely chiseled features and dropped like a veil behind his eyes.

  “Yes, that is what they say. But you didn’t come here to talk about me,” he said with a bland smile, politely redirecting her, his eyes frosty. “If you already know all this, then why are you here, Lady Serena? Perhaps you could get to the point? I have a great many guests downstairs.”

  She looked away, stung but not surprised by his rebuff. “Because that wasn’t all Toby told me. I’m afraid there’s an even worse secret he revealed. The real reason he rejected me is that… Oh, this is difficult.”

  Azrael waited.

  “Please, you mustn’t tell anyone,” she whispered.

  He shrugged. “Of course not.”

  She stared at him, struggling. “When Toby returned from Owlswick, he was so troubled by all he’d heard that he decided to ask his parents about it—the Marquess and Marchioness of Chalmers.

  “Given the high birth of all the people involved, he figured there must’ve been rumors circulating in the ton about the group’s activities back in those days. He merely wanted confirmation so he could be sure the peasants hadn’t made the whole thing up. So he asked his parents if they’d ever heard any whispers about such things back then. And indeed they had.”

  “Go on.”

  She lowered her head. “I couldn’t believe it when he told me what his mother said. That is, I didn’t want to believe it. But in my heart, from the second I heard the words, I knew it must be true.”

  “What did she say?” he murmured, studying her.

  Serena floundered, overcome by the need to try to explain, if not justify, her mother’s behavior first. “You must understand, Your Grace, my mother was a great beauty in her youth—still is, for her age. Many women have hated her from jealousy and spite. But men? Well—please know, she’s changed now. If there were indiscretions, they were in the past.

  “Mama is devoted to a life of virtue now. She reads her Bible daily, always goes to church. Back then, however,” she said with a wince, “Lady Chalmers said Mama was wild and scandalous. The marchioness said my mother’s indiscretions grew even worse after her child died.

  “She was apparently so heartsick from losing little Georgette that, according to Lady Chalmers, she went rather mad for a time. At least, when it came to men. My parents’ marriage was known to be all but ended after the child drowned. Anyway, it seems I was the end product of that period of her life.”

  “I see,” he said quietly.

  She gazed at him in distress, hating the humiliating words that now defined her in a Society where lineage was everything. “And so I’m…illegitimate. Someone’s bastard, a by-blow. Not your father’s, of course. He died sixteen months before I was born. Toby helped me verify the dates.”

  She sighed, relieved at least to get the weight of her confession off her chest, here in his church-like house. To be sure, she had never expected to have the Duke of Rivenwood as her confessor.

  “So that is how I found out that Lord Dunhaven is not my real father. Who is? I have no idea.” She shook her head, embarrassed. “My mother won’t tell me, if she knows. She won’t even admit who all she was involved with back then, possible candidates for my true sire. She’s too ashamed. She wants to pretend her past simply doesn’t exist. But this is my life and I can’t live it as a lie. I need to know who I am.”

  She stared at him. “That is why I did what I did tonight. I know how bad this looks, my breaking into your house, and I am sorry. It’s just—since your father was the leader, I thought I might be able to find some clue here of who his followers were back then. For I believe that one of them is likely to be my real father.”

  He tilted his head, pondering the mystery. “Does Dunhaven know you’re not his own?”

  “God, no,” she said. “That was the one thing Mama begged of me, not to speak of it to him. Of course I haven’t. I don’t want to hurt Papa. He is a good, simple man, and he worships the ground my mother walks on. You know, I admire them, because somehow, after all that, the loss of a child, their unfaithfulness on both sides, they changed their lives and repaired their marriage.”

  “That is no small feat,” he said softly, nodding.

  “I know. I would never take that away from them, either, by revealing my mother’s secret. I just want to know for myself who I actually belong to.”

  He said nothing.

  “Anyway,” she continued with a sigh, “Lady Chalmers finally saw fit to mention to Toby that while she has no objection to his friendship with me, he’ll never have his parents’ permission to marry me, given my dubious origins. They do not wish to be allied with such a family, and are concerned I might turn out to be like Mama. Were he to proceed against their will, he would be cut off. So, he ended our courtship.”

  “So he gave you up for money.” Azrael shook his head.

  “Well, he also believes I might actually be under this same, supposed curse on our families.”

  Azrael arched a brow.

  “I told you he was superstitious.”

  “And a fool,” Azrael murmured, staring meaningfully at her.

  Serena blushed but regarded him with skepticism. “You call Toby a fool for rejecting me, yet you claim you and I were once betrothed. I never knew about it, so it must’ve been you who ended our match. It doesn’t sound as though you have much room to criticize, when you apparently jilted me, too.”

  His lips twisted at her sardonic tone. “Our situation was different.”

  “How?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “I suspect, with you, most things are.”

  A soft, rueful laugh escaped him.

  “Come now, at least I know that Toby rejected me in order to keep his inheritance. So what’s your excuse?”

  He frowned.

  She started to rise from her chair. “Unless you’d rather get back to your guests? And, of course, the ravishing Miss Burns.”

  “Sit! Very well, if you really want to know, I’ll tell you what happened.”

  “Please do.”

  “As soon as I turned twenty-one, legally of age to conduct my own affairs, and free at last from being under the thumb of half a dozen guardians and trust officers, I had only one desire: to take control of my own affairs. I immediately set out to erase all vestiges of the life my father and his henchmen had mapped out for me. Our arranged marriage was a key part of that. No offense was intended, I assure you.”

  “None taken.” She studied him. “You know, I remember you coming to our country house once when I was a child.”

  “Yes, that was when I had your parents sign the documents dissolving our betrothal.”

  She searched her memory more intently. “Did I not physically barrel into you while chasing about the house after my brothers?”

  He started laughing. “You did. Little apple-cheeked terror, running around giving orders like the wee fairy queen.”

  “Yes, I often got scolded for that!” She chuckled. “As it happens, you made a deep impression on me, Your Grace. On my imagination.”

  “Nonsense,” he mumbled, looking embarrassed but pleased.

  “It’s true. How could I forget you? So somber and elegant, with your long, pale hair spun from moonbeams,” she teased.

  He laughed at her, looking slightly sheepish at her description. “I was skinny as a rail back then.”

  “Well, I was a brat,” she said cheerfully. Enjoying his mild discomfiture, she pressed her luck. “Oh, yes, I remember you quite well. I was sure you were some fey prince from an elven kingdom in the forest, who had just ventured out into the human world on some noble but highly dangerous mission.”

  “Story of my life,” Azrael drawled, and took a drink.

  “Well!
” she said, blushing a bit herself. “After I made such a frightening first impression on my future spouse, I can see why you didn’t see fit to wait for me to grow up.”

  “Oh, I didn’t end the match because I could see you were going to be a handful,” he told her, “but to deny my jailers their victory. And believe me, your parents were all too happy to sign the papers, too. They no longer wanted me for your husband either. For, by then, you see, they’d extricated themselves from the group. They dreaded being drawn back in all because of some old agreement they had signed while they were still, shall we say, in darkness.”

  So that’s why I’ve been forbidden to talk to you.

  “Your mother actually cried and hugged me after I set her daughter free, as she put it. So, be glad you escaped it,” he said, toasting her with his glass.

  She studied him for a long moment, mystified. “Do you ever wonder how it might’ve been, Your Grace?”

  Her frank question startled him, she saw.

  His eyes flickered with wary calculation. “It doesn’t really matter, so why think about it? Beautiful as you’ve become, I could never marry the bride those devils had picked out for me.”

  “Ah.” She hid a twinge of disappointment at his blunt words. “And why is that?”

  “Because.” He leaned toward her, lowering his voice, as if some unseen presence in the chamber might hear them. “These are deeply evil men, Serena. And my father was the worst of them all. I shall deny it beyond this room, but you, of all people, have a right to know.”

  Her eyebrows rose, but he wasn’t finished.

  “Between you and me”—he paused, his eyes flashing like silvery blades—“he got what he deserved.”

  Oh my God, she thought as stunned suspicion flooded through her mind. You’re the one who killed him.

  CHAPTER 4

  In the Dark

  Azrael wasn’t sure which part of what he’d just said had upset his fair intruder, but plainly something had.

  She had stiffened slightly, drawing back from him just a bit. Her dewy lips parted, and her captivating hazel eyes grew even more guarded as she stared at him in the candlelight.

  He could not say why, but God’s truth, that almost feline wariness in her delighted him. If he was of the moon, as she had so fancifully claimed, then Lady Serena, with her raven hair and sparkling eyes, was of the night itself—darkness and comets and stars—drawing him out with her mysterious allure.

  He couldn’t believe he’d had to give her up. He was a greater fool than Lord Tobias Guilfoyle. But this was the first time they’d ever actually spoken, and he was shocked at how instantly he felt at home with her.

  Perhaps that was because he’d been aware of her all her life.

  Even so, he’d been stunned to see her from afar when she’d first appeared in Society as a debutante. He had noted the flock of admirers around her from the start. And though he knew full well he couldn’t have her, that didn’t mean he’d never wondered how she’d taste.

  “Excuse me,” Serena murmured, cooling toward him, rising from the chair abruptly.

  She had just enough room to slip by him as she paced off toward the liquor cabinet, setting her empty glass atop it.

  She slid his black tail coat off her shoulders. “Thank you for this,” she said, her tone awkward, her gaze averted. “I am warm now. Do you wish to put it back on?”

  “Not yet. You can set it down if you like.” He gestured with his glass toward the bed.

  Of which, he gathered, they were both acutely aware.

  “As you wish.” She nodded, smoothed his coat over her arm, and laid it on the mattress.

  He watched her through narrowed eyes, slightly confused by the shift in her attitude. “Are you all right?” he asked. “I know it’s been a lot to take in.”

  “Oh, yes—I’m fine.” He couldn’t help but notice that she seemed to back away from him.

  Her pale, expressive hands clenched and unclenched by her sides, then she smoothed her skirts and marched off around the foot of the bed.

  “Are you leaving, then?” he said, holding himself back from the urge to prevent her.

  She hesitated, her back to him. Clearly, something else was on her mind.

  Azrael watched her in fascination, his gaze following the set of her shoulders and the sweet, supple curve of her back in that dull beige walking dress.

  To be sure, the gown she wore tonight was not her usual fare. He was accustomed to seeing her in striking, bold-colored satin.

  When she turned slowly and glanced at him again from around the bedpost, he was puzzled by the troubled look in her eyes beneath those lush black lashes.

  The girl was eyeing him like most of his servants watched Raja whenever Azrael brought the big cat out on the leash.

  What the devil? He frowned. She hadn’t seemed nervous around him before. Not like this, anyway.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he inquired in a low tone, remaining on his chair to let her keep her distance, if that made her feel safer.

  “It’s just that it’s getting late. You need to get back to your guests, I’m sure, and I…” She began to twirl a finger through a lock of ebony hair lying across her shoulder.

  “You what, Lady Serena?” he asked, watching her.

  “I’m still no closer to the main question that I came here seeking answers for in the first place!”

  He heaved a sigh. “Very well. What exactly do you want?”

  She took a single step toward him, her gaze imploring, and though she kept the carved oak column of the bedpost between them, she curled her hand around it.

  “I want to know who my real father is, of course.”

  Azrael frowned but could not deny a sympathetic tug at his heart at the lost, plaintive note in her voice.

  “Everything Toby said leads me to believe he was one of the men in your father’s set years ago, when they were all involved in these unpleasant things. As I told you, I tried to ask my mother. As soon as my conversation with Toby ended that day, I marched straight into the house and confronted her privately, but she wouldn’t budge. She refused even to have the conversation with me. She said I had no right to ask her such impertinent questions, and then she stormed out. We’ve barely spoken since.”

  Serena leaned her head wearily against the bedpost. “I wish I could ask Papa, but I promised I wouldn’t. Besides, I don’t have the heart. And I doubt he knows anything, anyway.” She dropped her gaze. “In truth, Papa doesn’t notice much beyond the sports gazettes.”

  Azrael could believe it.

  The large, burly Earl of Dunhaven, or “Dunny,” as most called him, had been involved with his father’s group in those days, but he’d always been a follower, happy enough to do the bidding of cleverer, more labyrinthine minds.

  A simple man, really. The brawn to those with twisty brains. Easily manipulated.

  “Anyway,” she continued with a sigh, “Mama’s refusal to confess left me no choice but to try questioning my old nurse, Mrs. Hopkins, for information next. She’s old now, long since retired, but I managed to hunt her down.

  “She did tell me that the previous nurse before her, who’d allowed the accident to happen, had been charged, found guilty, and transported to Australia, even though Georgette’s death was an accident. My parents made sure the poor woman was destroyed.

  “Unfortunately, Mrs. Hopkins claimed that her memory had grown poor with age when I asked if she could remember which gentlemen used to visit my mother in those days. She said it wasn’t a servant’s place to notice such things about her mistress, and I suppose that’s true.

  “So, you see, Your Grace, you are my last hope of ever finding out who my real father might be. I’ve already exhausted any other options I could think of. Lord Toby already shared with me everything he learned, my mother refuses to even think about the past, I can’t ask Papa, and Mrs. Hopkins’ memory is fading. It was she, by the way, who suggested that if the answers were to be found anywh
ere, they would be most likely in your possession,” she added. “That is why I did what I did tonight.”

  Serena paused. “I’m not proud of it, sneaking in like that, trying to deceive you. It was wrong of me. I hope you can forgive me.” She slipped around the bedpost and took a step toward him. “But please—if you have any information at all on where I should begin my search, I will not bother you again, I promise.”

  Azrael gazed at her, torn.

  For a man with any chivalry at all in his veins, it was nigh impossible to deny such an innocent damsel anything. Especially a request that, in truth, she had every right to make. She deserved answers, he knew.

  But the truth would only bring her misery.

  And possibly put her life in danger.

  “Please say something,” she urged.

  His expression sobering, Azrael pushed up from his chair, set his glass aside, and went to her with tender regret. “My lady, you do not truly know what you are asking for.”

  As he approached, she held her ground, and the candles’ glow caught the flecks of gold in her greenish-brown eyes. When he stood before her, searching her face, he could not resist running his fingertips down the curve of her creamy cheek.

  Then his stare came to rest on her plump ruby lips. With unsated need still simmering under the surface after Bianca’s attentions, the temptation grew too strong.

  If things had been different, she might have been his.

  “What a splendid rose you have become,” he said in a husky voice, running his fingertip along her jaw line until he came to her pert chin. He lifted it with a gentle touch, lowered his head, and kissed her.

  She stood very still, as though she knew she ought to pull away, but didn’t.

  Azrael pressed his lips to hers, closing his eyes at the aching sweetness of her innocence.

  When he paused and glanced at her, he saw her inky lashes fanned against her blushing cheeks. Those lips were now slightly parted.

  It was more than he could resist; he moved to deepen the kiss.

  She stopped him halfheartedly. “What do you think you are about, sir?” she asked in a breathy whisper.