If Not for the Duke, page 1
If Not for the Duke
The Duke’s Lost Treasures
Book 3
Lana Williams
© Copyright 2022 by Lana Williams
Text by Lana Williams
Cover by Dar Albert
Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.
P.O. Box 23
Moreno Valley, CA 92556
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Produced in the United States of America
First Edition November 2022
Kindle Edition
Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.
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.
License Notes:
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Additional Dragonblade books by Author Lana Williams
The Duke’s Lost Treasures Series
Once Upon a Duke’s Wish (Book 1)
A Kiss from the Marquess (Book 2)
If Not for the Duke (Book 3)
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Publisher’s Note
Additional Dragonblade books by Author Lana Williams
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
Chapter One
London, England
May 1878
Lena Wright shrugged in an attempt to dispel the familiar but unwelcome sensation that threatened to sweep over her. The middle of the Barrington Garden party was not the time to have one of her spells. Yet a familiar chill ran along her scalp and down her spine, a telltale sign that something unfortunate was about to occur. Or had just occurred. Or might occur.
She heaved a frustrated sigh, trying to will the feeling away before someone noticed her acting oddly.
“What is it?” Norah, her older sister by two years, asked as she handed Lena a glass of lemonade.
“Nothing.” Never mind that a glance at Norah’s expression confirmed that she already knew. “Just a feeling.” She took a sip of the cool, tart drink, still hoping the sense would go away.
Why Lena bothered to try to dismiss these moments was a source of disagreement between her and her sisters. Lena had explained that having the feeling that “something” was amiss wasn’t helpful. After all, she rarely knew the exact nature of the problem. It wasn’t as if she had a vision along with it that explained the details. Sometimes there wasn’t even a problem. Too often, her supposed “gift” of intuition was misleading and upsetting.
Wrong as often as it was right.
Unreliable at best.
Nonexistent at worst.
The sense had failed her when she needed it most—the day her father died. Guilt from that terrible time was something she struggled with daily.
And she hated how the feeling made her different from other people. She couldn’t share it, nor was it easy to hide. Not when it took over her mind and blocked out all else. For those few moments when the sensation swept over her, she didn’t see or hear what was happening around her. It made friendships difficult and the chance of marriage unlikely. No wonder she tried to hide the sense, even from her sisters.
“Do you know what’s causing it?” Norah asked quietly as she glanced around the numerous guests spread amidst the elaborate garden where conversation and laughter flowed.
The afternoon sunshine was warm and lovely. The brightly colored gowns of the ladies in attendance added to the picturesque scene with the vast array of blooming flowers, bubbling fountain, and sculpted shrubbery. Gentlemen dotted the area as well, their brown and beige suits lending a somber tone to the vivid color palette.
Lena heaved another sigh and reluctantly returned her attention to the question. This was the difficult part—attempting to identify the potential issue. She studied the guests, noting the increase of her heartbeat as her body seemed to insist she take action. If only she knew what action to take.
She worried her lower lip as she considered the possibilities. Movements caught her eye. A gentleman gestured with his hand. A woman spun to greet a friend, causing her skirts to flare. Parasols tipped forward and back as guests moved along the garden paths. She knew most or was at least acquainted with them. In truth, nothing looked out of the ordinary.
Still, the nagging feeling persisted, so she continued to study the scene. The cause might not even be at this gathering. Something could be amiss at home, or with their eldest sister, Ella, who wasn’t in attendance as she was expecting her first child. It might also be Norah’s husband, the Marquess of Vanbridge, since Lena had experienced previous inklings of danger threatening him, which had proven true.
Lena’s gaze caught on a young lady who stood some ten feet away, and the sense heightened, her chills increasing. Lena watched her for a moment, having noted her earlier as she was unfamiliar.
The young woman couldn’t be more than eighteen years of age and seemed uncomfortable based on the awkward way she moved with her hands slightly out before her as if to keep from bumping into anything. She stood near a fountain and didn’t seem to be enjoying herself in the least.
That was something to which Lena could relate. It had taken her well over a year to appreciate any of the social events they attended, partly because she and her two sisters had been the center of attention, a novelty of sorts.
As the granddaughters of the Duke of Rothwood, Lena and her sisters were invited to more functions than they could possibly attend. During their first Season in London three years ago, everything seemed overwhelming and unfamiliar compared to their previous life on a remote island in Nova Scotia. The attention had made Lena uncomfortable, a sharp contrast to their quiet childhood.
The unfortunate young lady, with dark brown hair and a thin face, seemed to be in a similar situation. Her gaze darted about, not settling on anything. Her lips were pressed tight, whether from worry or in a grimace, Lena couldn’t tell.
An older woman stood beside the girl, possibly her chaperone, and looked about with interest. Both were dressed fashionably, the younger in a pale-yellow muslin with a floral underskirt in the latest princess-line style, which had replaced bustles with a slim look created by using vertical tucks. The older woman wore a fashionable, green-striped gown with red trim.
Lena watched the young lady, noting how she lifted her gloved hands out before her only to drop them and take a step back. Then another.
“Good heavens,” Lena whispered. “She’s going to topple into the fountain.” In an instant, she knew that was the cause of her distress.
“Oh, dear!” Norah gasped, suggesting she could easily envision the woman falling in, too.
The large water feature consisted of a life-size stone mermaid whose cupped hands spurted water. The base of the pool was knee-high, making it easy to fall into. Stone fish circled the shallow pool around the figurine with mouths open, spraying water as well.
Without hesitation, Lena handed Norah her lemonade and then weaved through the guests along the path, moving toward the lady as quickly as she dared. Though the woman wouldn’t suffer a great deal of harm from falling in the fountain, doing so would be terribly embarrassing and cause a
The squint of the woman’s eyes made Lena wonder if her vision was somehow impaired. Her chaperone seemed oblivious to the potential risk. She spoke to her charge but kept her gaze fixed on something in the distance, perhaps the refreshment table. Then she walked away, leaving the young woman alone. The lady took another step back, bumping into the fountain wall before teetering alarmingly.
Lena lunged forward to grab hold of her outstretched arm and managed to steady her in the nick of time, relieved neither of them had ended up in the water.
“Oh!” The lady stared at Lena in surprise, eyes wide, clearly startled by her sudden presence. Then she glanced down at Lena’s tight grip on her arm.
“I feared you might fall into the fountain.” Lena kept hold of her arm to make certain she had her balance.
“Fountain?” The woman looked over her shoulder, seeming to just now realize it was there. “I thought I heard the sound of running water.”
Lena frowned, astonished that she hadn’t seen it. She eased them both forward and out of harm’s way before releasing her.
“Drat.” The lady reached into the cuff of her sleeve and pulled forth a pair of spectacles. “Aunt Edith insisted I shouldn’t wear these, but honestly, I can’t see a thing without them.”
She settled them on her nose, then turned, gasping at the large pool of water behind them. “My goodness, but that was close. I thought it was a statue.” Her attention shifted to Lena, and she touched her arm. “Thank you so much. Floundering about in the fountain was not on my agenda this afternoon.”
Before Lena could reply, she caught sight of an angry gentleman striding toward them.
“You there. What are you about?” he demanded, his expression fierce enough to cause Lena to take a small step back.
Everyone knew that Sterling Dunworth, the Duke of Renwick, was no one to be trifled with. Lena had never been formally introduced to His Grace but mentally referred to him as His Grumpiness. The man never smiled and glared at anyone who drew close. He had a sharp blade of a nose and defined cheekbones that lent him an austere look. While handsome, with thick, golden blond hair that held a hint of wave and dark brown eyes, his sober demeanor was less than appealing.
“Sterling.” The young lady took his arm and gave it the smallest shake as if to gain his attention. “You should be thanking this kind lady, not berating her.” Then she looked at Lena with a bright smile. “She saved me from an embarrassing dip in the fountain.”
The explanation didn’t seem to be enough for the duke. He continued to glare at Lena, his eyes chilly, clearly suspicious of her intent.
Lena felt heat climb in her cheeks under his close regard. Any time Lena attempted to explain herself after an incident like this, she struggled. It was often impossible to make excuses for what she knew.
She switched her focus to the lady, doing her best to ignore the duke. “I-I happened to see you backing toward the fountain and feared you weren’t aware it was behind you.”
“Happened to?” he asked, his tone dubious.
She told herself not to feel guilty. She’d offered a reasonable explanation and managed to save the lady. This time, anyway.
He couldn’t possibly know about her ability. But if anyone might see through her, it would be His Grumpiness. He seemed to suspect everyone of something.
*
Sterling watched his sister, Bernice, to make certain she was all right. When he’d seen this woman place her hand on Bernice’s arm from across the garden, his heart had nearly stopped. Especially since Aunt Edith was nowhere to be seen. What sort of chaperone was she?
He knew he was overprotective with his younger sister, but he couldn’t help it. She had been ill often as a child, and health issues had plagued her into adulthood.
She’d only just returned home from a year in Switzerland at a prestigious finishing school. Though she insisted the experience had strengthened her, he still worried. She would always seem fragile to him and in need of extra care.
Bernie was the one and only person in his life he could trust. She was his guiding light, a compass to navigate by. He’d learned long ago that everyone else wanted something. Kind acts were only a cover for ulterior motives.
The title of duke was an honor and one he took seriously, having been groomed from childhood to fulfill his duties and responsibilities. But the title brought disadvantages as well. He never knew if he was liked for himself or for what he could do for someone.
Sterling shifted his attention to the pale-haired beauty who’d supposedly come to his sister’s rescue. He wondered if the woman had somehow managed to cause the near miss. The pink in her cheeks and the way she glanced away roused his suspicions even more. She looked vaguely familiar, though he was certain they hadn’t been formally introduced.
“I can’t thank you enough,” Bernie was saying to the lady. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Lady Bernice Dunworth.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lady.” The woman dipped into a graceful curtsy. “I’m Miss Lena Wright.”
“Wright?” Sterling turned over the name in his mind. “Rothwood’s granddaughter?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” Her tone was polite, but a hard glint flashed briefly in her eyes. Disapproval, perhaps? Or anger that he hadn’t expressed more gratitude.
He didn’t care if she was a relation of Rothwood’s. She still might have reason to orchestrate the incident. Movement nearby had him glancing over to see a lady approaching from several feet away, who looked remarkably like her. “You noticed my sister’s potential mishap from across the garden?”
Miss Wright’s cheeks deepened in color. “Yes.”
“That’s quite a feat.” So unlikely that he had to wonder if it was possible. He could think of several reasons someone would want to give his sister a shove only to save her. The things people did to try to get into his good graces knew no bounds.
Sterling had learned from an early age to trust no one. A pair of pretty blue eyes wouldn’t change his mind. Neither would her heart-shaped face or those long lashes. Certainly not that glitter of defiance in her eyes.
“Is all well?” the other lady asked when she joined them.
“Very well,” Bernie said as she looked between the sisters as if entranced by their similarities.
“May I introduce my sister, the Marchioness of Vanbridge.”
Lena Wright completed the introductions, allowing Sterling to study her a few moments longer.
“A pleasure, Your Grace.” The marchioness was a petite version of her sister with blue-green eyes that shone with intelligence and curiosity.
“I’m acquainted with your husband, though I haven’t seen him for some time,” Sterling said. “I trust he is well?”
“Yes. Quite well, thank you.” Lady Vanbridge smiled. “I shall mention to him that I had the pleasure of meeting you.”
“Your sister was kind to assist me,” Bernie said. “My aunt thinks it terrible that I require spectacles and would rather I didn’t wear them.” She tapped a gloved finger on the edge of them. “But from this point forward, I refuse to go without them.”
“A wise decision, my lady.” Lady Vanbridge pressed a gloved hand to her heart as if to calm herself. “I feared Lena wouldn’t reach you in time.”
Sterling noted the look the sisters shared, certain it communicated more than he could discern. The fact that they talked about the possibility of his sister falling into the fountain only made him wonder all the more.
“Wright?” Bernie’s focus shifted to Sterling and then back to the sisters. “But of course. You’re the daughters of David Wright, the treasure hunter.”
“Yes, we are.” Lady Vanbridge nodded. “May I ask how you’re familiar with him?”
“My sister has been devouring all she can find about Oak Island and its hidden treasure.” Sterling sent a warning look to his sister, though he knew it would do no good. Her enthusiasm for the topic was boundless.
“Truly?” Miss Wright’s expression suggested she was not as thrilled to hear that as her sister was.
“Oh, yes,” Bernie replied with enthusiasm, her brown eyes sparkling. Nothing gave him greater joy than to see her happy. “You see, I love to read. Especially travel journals. I came upon Rambles among the Blue-noses by Andrew Learmont Spedon. Are you by chance familiar with it?”
