Duke 0f Chance (Regency Stories Book 2) Read online

  Regardless of his opinion of these people, however, the man was a guest in his house, so some level of decorum had to be met. “I see,” Joseph said. “What holdings do you have?”

  “Land,” Mr. Newmont replied as if this was of great importance. “Two rental properties in Pensford as well as a few other holdings.”

  Joseph yawned. The man’s holdings were far less than those Joseph had controlled when he was but fourteen.

  Mr. Newmont did not seem to notice Joseph’s yawn, or chose not to. “Lord Whitely was kind enough to agree to help me find a business partner so I might rebuild what I once had.”

  Joseph glanced over at Albert. The man winked and then said, “What he says is true. Perhaps a conversation between the two of you should take place at some time.”

  Anger went through Joseph. Albert had never been this bold in public, and though they were the best of friends, the man had crossed a line. What would the ton think of him discussing finances with a man such as this?

  Albert seemed to sense his annoyance, as he smiled at Mr. Newmont. “Perhaps you should visit with other guests for the time being.”

  “Of course,” Mr. Newmont said with a deep bow. “Thank you, My Lord.” Then he bowed to Joseph, this time deeper. “Your Grace.” Soon he disappeared into the crowd.

  Joseph turned back to Albert, ready to scold him, but the man spoke first. “My friend, you are angry at me?”

  “Of course I am, you fool,” Joseph said, attempting to keep his voice low. “A desperate man needing help? Why would I even consider associating with such a person?” He took a healthy gulp of his wine. “I care not what land that man has, nor what he wishes to do with it. Do not embarrass me again like that, Albert, or so help me, you will live to regret it.”

  His anger grew when Albert chuckled. “You do not know me that well, for I did not embarrass you. I merely wanted to introduce you to the father of the woman you are going to court.”

  “Speak plainly,” Joseph said, frustrated and confused, two things that he did not tolerate for long.

  “There,” Albert said pointing with his chin to a young woman across the room. “In the blue dress. Do you see her?”

  Joseph followed the man’s gaze, and his eyes fell on the woman he had seen earlier. She was with another woman, possibly her mother. Both of their attention was on Lord Stockett, a Baron who everyone knew was looking for a bride but was fastidious in his choosing.

  “She is of the Gentry?” Joseph asked, surprised. “She holds herself in such a way, I would not have known.”

  “Indeed, she is,” Albert said. “I have been in business with her father for two years now. The man has lost nearly everything. Servants, heirlooms, the destruction of his family's name and fortune is near completion. It is his daughter who you will court as a part of our agreement.”

  Joseph turned to his friend. “This is not what I agreed to. Word of their devastation must be great, and yet you invited them here!” He could not believe his friend would stoop so low. When Joseph had agreed to the man’s bet, he never imagined the man would choose from the bottom of the barrel. This was maddening beyond belief. Had she at least come from a family that still had its bearings, that would be one thing, but this?

  “I did,” Albert said with a crooked smile. “It is fine if you wish to withdraw from our agreement. Lord Beaumont is interested in the property in London. Speaking of which, I see him now. Pardon me, Your Grace.” Oh, how Joseph hated when he used his title to emphasis his point!

  Joseph reached out and grabbed his friend’s arm. “You have crafted a wager that is near impossible,” Joseph hissed in a low tone. Albert only smiled in reply, and Joseph could do nothing but sigh. “But I am the Duke of Chance. I will show you how easily I can win.”

  “Then by all means, do so, my friend. But I would ask you to hurry; it appears Lord Stockett might beat you to the finish line.”

  Joseph turned to see the Baron in question standing beside Miss Newmont in what appeared to be a deep conversation. Conversation was one thing, but Miss Newmont laughed at something the man said, and Joseph knew he had to do something, and quickly. Albert had put Joseph in a situation he did not enjoy, but he coveted that property in London as much as he enjoyed his country home in Rumford. The woman would be an easy catch, and with his money, he could transform her and earn the admiration of his peers. It was nothing but a winning situation—for him, at least; what it did for her was of no consequence.

  “Remember, the ton must accept her,” Albert said as he walked past Joseph, more than likely planned simply so he could say those words.

  Joseph waived the man off. “They will,” he said and then walked towards the woman he had no doubt he would win over with nothing more than his smile.

  ***

  Lord Stockett was handsome and his mannerisms were perfect, and Hannah found herself immersed in his words. The man had approached Hannah and her mother a few minutes before, much to Hannah's shock, and now she found herself enjoying his conversation.

  “Though I suppose a story of a gentleman's deeds during a fox hunt must be boring to a lady such as yourself,” the Baron said to Hannah’s mother, although he looked at Hannah as he said it. “I beg your forgiveness in its telling.”

  When Hannah waited for her mother to reply, however, the woman cleared her throat and moved her eyes in indication that Hannah should be the one to respond. That was strange to Hannah; why would this man care what she thought of his stories? He was a Baron after all. “Oh, not at all,” Hannah replied. “I do not mind hearing tellings of adventures. I find myself wishing for more of them myself.”

  The Baron smiled. “Then perhaps I might call on you sometime and so I share more of them.” This he clearly said to her mother.

  Hannah's heart beat hard against her chest as her mother spoke. “That would be wonderful,” her mother said. “I believe…” Her voice dropped off as the man who Hannah recognized as the Duke of Chance approached.

  “Your Grace,” Hannah said repeating the words and actions of her mother, hoping she did not call him Duke of Chance by accident. She needed to stop thinking of the man by that name, or she was bound to let it slip, causing not only herself a great deal of shame, but her parents, as well. The man was far more handsome when standing beside him than she had thought from afar, and her neck prickled as if all eyes were watching her.

  “Your Grace,” Lord Stockett said with a diffident bow. “It is an honor and a privilege…” He was unable to finish his sentence, as the Duke cut him off.

  “Stockett, please allow me the privacy of these women’s conversation.”

  The Baron’s brows rose. “Of course, Your Grace,” he said and then hurried off.

  Hannah wondered why the Duke wanted to speak them, and alone no less, but she could not help but feel honored.

  “Stockett is a pleasant man, is he not?” the Duke asked.

  Hannah gave a single nod, but was unsure how to respond otherwise. When the Duke smiled at her, she found that her legs acted as if they would give out from under her at any moment.

  “It’s a shame the man has gambled his family fortune away.” He shook his head as though sad, but then he smiled, as if he had not been sad at all. “It does not matter. I came to personally introduce myself and let you know that I am glad you have attended.”

  “Your Grace,” her mother said, her voice unsteady, “thank you for those kind words. I’m afraid we have never met, but I am….”

  The Duke smiled as he interrupted Hannah’s mother. “Yes, I know who you are. Mrs. Newmont and Miss Newmont, I believe, and although we have never met, I did wish to thank you for your part in bringing a woman of such beauty as your daughter to my party.”

  Hannah reached out and grabbed her mother’s arm for support. The boldness in which the man spoke, the twinkle in his blue eyes, the way he called her beautiful, dried her throat and made it difficult to swallow.

  “Please, enjoy the evening,” he continued.
“If there is anything I can do to make your stay better, you must let me know.”

  “We shall,” her mother said and curtsied again, and Hannah did the same.

  The Duke smiled, turned, and walked away. Hannah tried to comprehend what had just happened, though her mind could not grasp it.

  “Hannah,” her mother whispered, her voice excited. “You have drawn the eyes of a duke. Do you not realize now that all the men shall fight for your attention?”

  Hannah looked around skeptically. She did not see adoring looks of the other men in the room but rather what appeared to be looks of arrogance. However, Hannah was not one to argue with her mother. “Yes, Mother,” she replied.

  Despite her spoken agreement, she could not help but wonder how two gentlemen in the space of just a few minutes had come to introduce themselves to her. It was all so strange—and exciting. And as her mother pulled her away to find their father, Hannah continued to deliberate onto where these encounters could lead. And oh, how her imagination could run wild!

  ***

  The laughs grew louder with each new drink that was taken, the orchestra continuing to play, and Hannah found herself still wondering over the Duke’s words an hour ago. He had called her beautiful, a word that still reigned in her heart and mind. Then, before he had arrived, Lord Stockett had asked to call on her, the first time such a request had ever been made to her. How she looked forward to his arrival and the conversation they would have, for although he stated that his stories were uninteresting, she found them quite entertaining. Sighing, she looked over to where her parents were engaged in conversation. The two were smiling, a welcome sign that was so different from the frowns they had worn as of late.

  Hannah stood just inside the doorway to the ballroom simply watching the crowd before her. A crash made her jump and turn to look down the hallway to where a footman had dropped a silver tray, its contents scattering across the floor. The man quickly gathered what had fallen to the floor and hurried away toward what she suspected was the kitchen.

  “Miss Newmont,” a voice said from behind her, and she turned to find the Duke standing beside her. Her heart skipped a beat as his hand touched her elbow, fire burning through her body. “This way.”

  Hannah was unsure as to how to respond, and she feared that if anyone, especially her parents, saw her leaving alone with the Duke, tongues would wag. However, he was a duke, and she most certainly could not tell him no. Plus, what others thought of her meant nothing to her; she was her own person, and she was accustomed to being ostracized by people such as those who had attending this night’s gathering. No matter what choice she made, their gossip would be pronounced.

  They moved down the hallway, and the Duke opened a door that led to a small office. Then he closed the door behind them.

  “Do not worry what others think,” he said with a smile.

  Was he a reader of minds, as well? she wondered. “I do not worry about such things, Your Grace,” she said. “Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

  He chuckled as he moved to stand closer to her. “There are many things,” he replied.

  The candles in the room flickered, and Hannah felt her stomach knot in worry—and excitement—as he stood before her. His chest was broad, his height great, and his smile enticing.

  Then, much to her shock, his finger touched her cheek. “Such a beautiful creature.”

  “Th-thank you, Your Grace,” she sputtered. “I-It is kind of you to say so, but I-I really should be going.”

  He laughed, and when he went to respond further, he took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “You are truly a sight for any man to behold.” His words were more melodious than the music that played in the ballroom, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. He did not move to accost her in any way, for by title he was a gentleman, but his words were that of a poet. “Yet, I wonder…why are your gloves, much like your dress, so worn?”

  The beautiful words that had caressed her soul now whipped out at her, clanging much like the tray the footman had dropped in the hallway, and she wanted to run from the room in shame. “I am sorry my attire does not meet your approval.” She tried her best to not allow her sadness and humiliation seep into her tone but instead forced indignation into them. It was not all that difficult. “I shall leave at once.”

  “No,” he said, his hand still holding hers. The man was vile, his words cruel, but his smile caused her knees to tremble. “A woman of such beauty should be admired on my arm. Miss Newmont, I would like to court you. Do you accept this honor?”

  Her heartbeat quickened as her mind tried to fathom what he had just said. She wanted to reply with acceptance—or perhaps a retort—but her tongue was as thick as steel, and much less pliable.

  “Perhaps this will help you decide.” To her shock, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

  Anger coursed through her at the onset of that kiss; however, as it continued, she found herself lightheaded. She should have pushed him away as soon as he had done something so forward, but she had waited too long, and now she found she could not have stopped herself if she made such an attempt. His lips had a possessiveness to them she could not fight, and her body weakened even further as he wrapped his hands around her waist.

  When the kiss finally ended, she found herself breathless. “Your Grace,” she managed to say, reeling in the shock of her first kiss. “I…you…” Frustration of not being able to voice her feelings made her even more frustrated. “You cannot do that!” she finally said, though the words were barely above a whisper.

  He chuckled. “Oh, but I can, and I did. Now, I shall call over to your house next week.”

  Hannah’s mind finally stopped spinning, and common sense returned—much like a slap to her face. He might have been handsome, but he certainly was no gentleman. First, he made comments about her clothes and then forced a kiss upon her. If those two things had not happened, she would have been happy to acquiesce. However, there was no chance, duke or no, that she would accept after the man had accosted her!

  “My parents will wonder where I am,” she said, now in a clear voice. “And as for your offer, Lord Stockett has already sought permission to call over next week, so I must respectfully decline.” She gave him a curtsy, nothing too deep for he was not worthy of such courtesies, and turned toward the door, taking joy in seeing a defeated look on the rogue’s face.

  She stopped before leaving the room, however, when he called out to her. “Your father is nearly bankrupt,” he said, “and I can save him.”

  Hannah turned and walked back to the man. How did he know?

  He chuckled. “Yes, I know the rumors, so do not deny it.”

  Although her mother had warned her not to, Hannah found herself nodding in agreement. How could she deny what was the truth?

  “Would you like to participate in a game?”

  This made her hackles rise. So, the Duke of Chance would rear his ugly head, would he? And he would use her family’s desperate situation to get what he wanted. Well, she would have nothing to do with it. She gave him a derisive sniff. “I must leave.”

  “Then go,” he said dismissively. “However, you will regret passing up an opportunity to save your family home.”

  Hannah bit at her lip, unsure what she should do. If she left, she was indeed passing up what could be a good opportunity. However, if she stayed, she was increasing the chance of someone finding out she was alone with this man. Her better senses said to run, but she pushed them aside and said, “What do you want?”

  He held up a gold coin. “Just a simple game of chance,” he said. “The stakes are high, but you will have the chance to save your family from further embarrassment.”

  Hannah could only nod. She had to admit her curiosity was piqued. “Go on.”

  “The coin has two sides,” he said, showing it to her. “This side has the sun, and the other,” he turned it over, “has a skull. The image was ghastly with snakes intertwining a skull, a sign of some form o
f witchcraft.

  So, the rumors were true.

  “Here is my wager,” he said. “I shall flip this coin in the air. If it lands on the sun, I shall give your father one thousand hundred pounds this very evening.”

  Hannah felt elation. That sum was a small fortune, enough to correct her family’s debts for the time being, and perhaps enough to help her father with his business dealings.”

  However, she had not won yet. “And the skull?” she asked. “What happens if it lands on that?”

  “You will allow me to court you for three months,” came his reply. “During that time, I will engage with business with your father. I cannot promise he will succeed, of course, but I do swear he will have every opportunity to save your home. So, Miss Newmont, what shall it be? Engage in horrid conversation with the likes of Lord Stockett? Or be the envy of the ton and save your father’s home?”

  Hannah bit at her lip, her hands wringing in front of her. Granted, the man was vile using her father’s failing fortune against her. Common sense told her to walk away, and she turned, her hand going to the handle on the door. However, she did not turn it. Her mind went to her parents this very evening. They both wore grand smiles and were happy, and she wished for them to continue to be so. The worst that could happen was she would have to court the Duke for three months. He did not ask for financial compensation if she lost. He was the Duke of Chance, and she needed this chance to help her family keep their home.

  She sighed and took her hand away from the door’s handle. “Very well, I shall play your game,” she replied as she turned around.

  He smiled and then flipped the coin in the air. It turned head over heels toward the ceiling and then fell to the floor. Both she and the Duke peered down at to see the results, and Hannah’s heart froze.