“Please don’t tell anyone,” she pleaded. “Especially not Victoria. She might feel guilty about this.”
“You have my word,” he assured her. “But do run along, angel. You are too innocent for the night. Many men will want to spend time with you without you having to pay them.”
She blushed once more at the implication ofspending time with her. The Duke certainly was not a subtle man.
Lucy looked up at him once more. It was difficult to tear her eyes away, except perhaps because her embarrassment tempted her to study every crease on her now-dirty satin slippers.
“I must admit, though,” the Duke murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips. Was she imagining that? “Curiosity suits you. But be careful, for it can get you into trouble.”
Her face felt like it had been scorched.
Without saying another word, she turned on her heel and practically ran down the alley to where her carriage awaited. Once she saw its familiar comfort, relief flooded through her.
What had just happened?
It was not how she had expected to spend her night.
Chapter Four
Daniel followed Lucy’s carriage as it left the alley. Even after it was gone, he could still hear the echoes of its rattling.
“She’s gone,” he reassured himself.
However, as he spoke the words, he also felt bereft. He had met the woman once, and she had somehow left chaos in her wake. His blood was still humming, and it had nothing to do with the damp cold of London’s underbelly and everything to do with her honey-brown eyes. He’d managed to guess who she was and how an innocent woman was about to knock on an escort’s door. However, he also felt like she could still see through him.
He turned to St. Clair’s back door and slammed the brass knocker against the wood. Three quick raps. It was what he was told to make.
It worked. The door swung open almost immediately after the third knock. Valentine St. Clair himself stood there, illuminated by the amber glow of candles. He wore burgundy, which made Daniel wonder if Theo should be there at all with his pale blue suit. Valentine, however, had his cravat undone. An air of decadence hung about him.
“Ah, the Duke of Stonewynn,” Valentine greeted, his eyes dancing in amusement and surprise.
He leaned against the doorframe, and Daniel wondered if it was because he was expecting someone—someone much smaller, more delicate, and more innocent. The man smelled faintly of brandy and perfume, and he held a crystal glass of the same spirit.
“St. Clair,” Daniel drawled.
“Come inside, although I must admit I was expecting someone with a much, er, softer disposition. A lady, perhaps? I was told it would be someone more cautious and sheltered. However, I am open to anything. Have you decided that ducal life had become so taxing and dull that it has become pertinent for you to seek my professional services?”
Daniel didn’t smile. He remained rigid and unblinking, but he accepted the invitation. He stepped inside, his massive frame forcing Valentine to step back.
“Do not flatter yourself, St. Clair. You are not my type, and I certainly don’t have the patience for your wit tonight.”
Valentine merely chuckled, unoffended. He turned to close the door and slide a heavy iron bolt into place.
“Few men have the patience at this hour. Come to the parlor, Your Grace. If you aren’t here to seek pleasure, I assume you’re here for something else I’m known for—secrets.”
Daniel squinted at the parlor. It was decorated with seduction in mind. Every detail, such as the velvet upholstery of the chairs, the masculine scent of expensive brandy and tobacco, and the dim lighting, was carefully chosen to make a client come undone. He thought of the woman who was supposed to enter this room instead of him, and his jaw clenched.
Valentine motioned for him to sit in a leather armchair while he moved to a sideboard laden with various decanters.
“Do you need anything to drink, Your Grace?” he asked smoothly, his hands already flitting over his bottles.
“Water, preferably, but brandy if you don’t have it,” Daniel drawled, keeping his posture rigid and ready.
He knew how to prepare himself for possibilities, especially the need to fight or flee. He wondered what Lucy would have done in a place still strange to her. How desperate must she be to escape her brother to find herself in Valentine’s lair?
“Unfortunately, I don’t have water on the ready. It is healthy, but it often destroys the illusion I am trying to make. Women oftencome here for a sip to ease their nerves, while others drink even more than I do,” Valentine explained as he poured two fingers of brandy for Daniel.
“The Wolf Duke mentioned you might come. I just didn’t expect you tonight. I was waiting for a young lady someone else had arranged for to come, but she might have had cold feet. Anyway, my address is only given to a few clients, and they pass it on to desperate young ladies, matrons, and widows. Your brother-in-law said you were persistent.”
