The Duke of Aces, page 1
The Duke of Aces
Ladies of Risk, Book 2
Rachel Ann Smith
© Copyright 2022 by Rachel Ann Smith
Text by Rachel Ann Smith
Cover by Dar Albert
Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.
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Produced in the United States of America
First Edition April 2022
Kindle Edition
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All Rights Reserved.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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Additional Dragonblade books by Author Rachel Ann Smith
Ladies of Risk Series
An Earl Unmasked (Book 1)
The Duke of Aces (Book 2)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Publisher’s Note
Additional Dragonblade books by Author Rachel Ann Smith
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Epilogue
About the Author
Prologue
Avondale House Party
Scotland
“I suggest you cease 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 from Debrett’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 her Debrett’s knowledge, 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.
“I believe we’ve stood near the wall long enough.” Minerva looped her arm through Isadora’s. “Let’s retire for the night and resume our efforts in the morn. I have a feeling that the next two weeks shall prove rather interesting for the both of us.”
Isadora peered back over her shoulder at the ballroom full of guests. Minerva was correct. There was a shroud of mystery that enveloped the group behind her. As they made their way to their chambers, a premonition formed in Isadora’s mind. The upcoming Season would most likely prove to be both entertain
Chapter One
Three months later…
London
The clink of glass brought Lady Isadora Malbury back to the present. Lady Sutherland’s drawing room was filled wall to wall with unmarried ladies, all dressed in richly colored silk gowns. No boring white or ghastly pastels tonight. The energy in the room blazed along with the fire. No tittering behind fans for the Wicked Ladies this eve. No, her friends were all eager as she was to embark on another Season unwed and with the promise of adventure.
Isadora raised her glass filled with red wine, none of the watered-down variety served at meals. “To another spectacular Season.”
The members of the Wicked Ladies Salon who had managed to convince their families to travel back to London early for the Season raised their glasses and repeated the toast with broad grins. The clink of crystal ensued, which was then quickly followed by chatter. Lord Sutherland’s staff were kept busy refilling glasses and offering an assortment of mini hors d’oeuvres on napkins.
Lady Katherine, Countess of Sutherland, creator of the Salon, rested a hand on the barely visible curve of her belly. “Izzy, I shall be returning to the country shortly. The members have voted. You, my dear Lady Isadora Malbury, have been elected to champion the Salon and organize this Season’s events. Do you accept?”
Isadora blinked twice and took another sip of her wine. What were the members thinking? This would be her second Season, and her debut had hardly been what one could call memorable. When not in the company of her fellow wicked ladies or surrounded by her siblings, the ton viewed her as nothing more than a wilting wallflower. She was the middle child, often overlooked, which had worked in Isadora’s favor to date.
Isadora possessed no prior experience as a leader. She rolled the stem of her glass between her thumb and fingers. “Are you certain?”
She waited for Lady Katherine, who was five years Isadora’s senior, to reply. The woman was a kindred spirit. They had instantly become fast friends upon being introduced a little over a year ago at the Royal Art exhibit, bonding over the advantages of blending into the masses. It was Katherine who championed Isadora’s invitation to the group. The Wicked Ladies Salon was a haven for unwed women who dared to dream of—and participate in—adventure and vice.
One would never suspect these ladies that lined the walls at balls or occupied the shadowed corners, often referred to as spinster row, had formed a clandestine alliance and met monthly to escape their gilded cages. Members and former members were sworn to secrecy and to never publicly flaunt or discuss the existence of the Wicked Ladies Salon. The responsibility of maintaining the sanctity of the group now fell upon Isadora’s shoulders.
Isadora scanned the room full of women who had shed their public personas at the front door of Lady Katherine’s home. Regardless of if they were titled or not, wealthy or impoverished, each member was considered equal and seen as the intelligent and independent woman she was. Isadora mentally pledged to do her best. She wouldn’t let her friends down. They had honored her with the role as their leader, and she would not disappoint them.
Raising her glass filled with water, Lady Katherine smiled broadly and said, “It was unanimous.” In other words, Katherine had nominated her, and no one dared to defy their leader.
Isadora narrowed her gaze on her hostess and asked, “Of all the twenty members, some present, some not, why would you choose me?”
“Because Izzy, dear, you possess the restraint required to deal with all these members.” No one but Katherine referred to her by the shortened version of her given name, not even her family. Katherine dug her elbow into Isadora’s ribs. “Plus, I have every confidence that the power the position wields will not impede your decisions. I shall rest easy knowing that the Salon is in capable hands.”
Capable? Isadora wasn’t the capable one. That was Minerva, her eldest sister. She preferred to follow, not lead. Didn’t she? Except, one of the reasons she had declared in her application to become a member of Wicked Ladies Salon was to step out of her sister’s shadow and do something liberating and adventurous.
Isadora emptied her glass and held it out to an awaiting footman to refill. Glass three-quarters full again, she lifted it back in the air. “I shall endeavor to honor your wishes for the group.” Isadora solemnly nodded. “My thanks for your trust and faith in me.”
“I’m not worried in the least. I happily relinquish my membership and am glad it is you that will lead the ladies for the next phase of the group’s growth. I’m proud of what we accomplished last year, and I’m a little envious I shall not be able to participate in this year’s events.” From the very beginning, Katherine had established the most important requirement for membership: the lady must be and remain unwed.
At the close of last Season, Katherine had relented and accepted Lord Sutherland’s proposal, and they had wed over the summer. With the members of the Salon dispersed across the countryside, a vote to determine who was to succeed Katherine had been delayed until the majority could once again reconvene in London.
This would be her friend’s last meeting with them, and Katherine blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over and asked, “Now tell me, will you be accepting the Duke of Avondale’s sister’s application?”
Squaring her shoulders, Isadora shared her concerns over the candidate for this year’s membership. “I witnessed Lady Charlotte’s keen wit and a remarkable ability for recall. However, her silent acquiescence to every demand made by her overbearing brother is rather worrisome.”
What was more bothersome was the strong connection Isadora had witnessed between the duke and Lady Charlotte. The secrecy of the Salon was of utmost importance. Isadora herself had been challenged not to share with her brothers and sisters the exciting adventures she had partaken in last Season. She typically didn’t hide anything from her siblings. Although Isadora suspected Minerva, the smartest person she knew, might have begun to piece together the snippets of gossip that occasionally hinted at the group’s existence.
Complete anonymity with twenty members was extremely difficult to maintain. In the past, it had fallen to Katherine to select one individual to extend an offer of membership, and only after careful deliberation over the applicant’s answers would she decide whether or not to officially grant them the honor of joining the Wicked Ladies Salon. The responsibility of deciding whether or not to formally accept Lady Charlotte’s application and offer her membership now fell to Isadora.
Ill at the thought of having to question Katherine’s motives and leadership, Isadora wrapped one arm about her middle. “Perhaps if you shared how exactly you came to select Lady Charlotte as a potential member, it might ease my worries.”
“I confess, it was at my husband’s recommendation that I extended the offer to Lady Charlotte.” Katherine avoided meeting her gaze.
Isadora asked, “And what does Lord Sutherland know of Lady Charlotte’s character?”
“Sutherland is a close friend of Avondale’s and views Charlotte like a little sister. He claims she is highly intelligent and fiercely independent. My husband fears if left to her own devices, Lady Charlotte shall seek out her own adventures, which we both know has the potential to be disastrous.”
“Hmm.” Isadora studied her friend’s features. Katherine was a horrid liar. “Are you certain that Lord Sutherland is acting purely in Lady Charlotte’s interest?”
Katherine’s eyes widened. “Of course. If not for Lady Charlotte, who else would Sutherland be looking out for?”
“Mayhap the girl’s brother. The Duke of Avondale.”
“Many find it rather hard to say no to His Grace.” Katherine rubbed her lower back. “I can’t imagine why you would suggest that Avondale would wish for his sister to become involved with the Wicked Ladies Salon.”
Her suspicion stemmed from pure conjecture. A belief formed solely based on the brief and few interactions she had had with the man while attending his summer house party.
Katherine’s brows creased into a frown as she brought her hand to rest on her hip. It appeared to Isadora that pregnancy was rather uncomfortable—yet another sound reason not to wed. It was no wonder pregnant women were banished to the countryside, for if debutantes witnessed such discomfort, who in their right mind would willingly place themselves on the marriage mart?
