How to Catch a Duke in Ten Days by Violet Hamers
Chapter Two
“Another drink, Your Grace?” a bawd asked as she walked past Antony, carrying a round brandy glass half full of golden-brown liquid.
“No, thank you,” Antony said, turning to look away from the woman and down at the cards in his hand.
The gentleman’s club was one he occupied frequently along with his brother, who was currently somewhere else with another young lady that worked at the place. Antony had already had his fun for the night though and was keen to pass the time with the cards instead of the young ladies that kept swarming past him.
“Are you sure I cannot persuade you, Your Grace?” the bawd asked, easily slipping into his lap and pushing the glass of brandy under his nose. He jerked his head, turning away from both the cards and the other gentlemen at the table. “You have already seen what good company I can be,” she whispered in his ear.
“You have other customers, I believe, who would prefer your attention,” Antony said with restraint, trying to ease her off his lap though she refused to be moved. Instead, she clamped one knee down by his hip and passed the brandy glass under his lips another time. He leaned as far back from her in the chair as the structure would allow. “I do not visit the same woman twice, my apologies,” he said with a kind smile.
“Why ever not?” she asked, her face showing her instant displeasure as she stiffened in his lap.
“I have my reasons,” he answered her, having no intention whatsoever of telling her any more than that. It was the rule by which he led his life these days; when he took his pleasure at clubs such as these, he was certain never to be with the same woman more than once. It was how he could ensure that lust never developed into any warm affection as that possibility was too awful to bear.
“Perhaps I could persuade you that you might like more time with me?” the bawd leaned toward him again, whispering in his ear. She was attractive, he couldn’t deny it, with long brown hair that curled at her waist and dark, enticing eyes, but he never broke his rule.
“My apologies,” he said, this time managing to achieve his aim when he pushed her off his lap. “It is my rule. Go and peddle your wares elsewhere.” To his dismay, she responded by laying an arm across his shoulders, refusing to leave at all.
“You seem to be a favorite here tonight, Your Grace,” another gentleman at the table said, smirking as he stared at him over the cards. “No lady lusts after the rest of us so.” The other gentlemen laughed at the table as they continued their game of poker.
“Have no fear,” Antony sighed with the words. “It is not me she lusts after but my title.” The bawd beside him jerked, her face turning to him with wide eyes. He stared back, unrelenting in the strength of his gaze, as he was keen to show her how he had known exactly what she was doing from the off.
It was always that way. No woman wanted to spend time with him for the sake of actually spending time with him. They wanted his title and his money. The bawd beside him would not be the first to think she could entice him into making a proposal if she impressed him enough.
“Take your leave,” he urged the woman quietly. “I will not be trapped by anyone.” He knew the words were to the point, even curt and callous, despite the soft tone he’d used. The bawd did not take the insult lightly. Her cheeks flushed, and she turned the brandy glass over.
He felt the run of the liquid across his knee and his trouser leg without having to turn to see it. The bawd placed the glass firmly on the table, in emphasis of her anger, before she stalked away.
The pained sounds that were made around the card table by the gentlemen echoed Antony’s own frustration as he tried to mop up the excess brandy spilled across his trousers.
“Her liking for you soured very quickly,” the gentleman to his left observed.
“It always does,” he acknowledged, masking the pain he often felt at such a thought behind a smile as he picked up his cards again. “Whose turn is it?”
As he lapsed into playing the cards, he kept glancing around periodically, searching the club for any sign of his brother. The club was a grand one indeed, despite the small size of Lyme Regis, the seaside town it resided in. The proprietor used to own clubs in London, and when they opened this establishment, Antony had seen the same fashions he would find in London brought here.
Each gaming table that had been set up was lined with expensive crystalware and golden rimmed candles that burned brightly as they filled the air with gentle smoke.
Between the tables, each gentleman was waited on by a young lady, but their duties did not just reside with serving drinks or offering pipes and tobacco. They offered pleasures of the bed too, and chambers beyond the closest door were created just for that purpose.
Antony had often visited this club over the last few years. It was the only place he allowed himself to look at a woman and to lust after a woman, even if that lust was enjoyed for a short time only.
“Your Grace, you have taken your eye off the ball tonight!” the gentleman to his left chuckled, earning Antony’s gaze again. He looked to see that his betting chip pile was empty, and it was his turn to make a bet. “What do you bid?”
“Let me see…” Antony lowered his cards and fished in his jacket, searching for any extra cash, but he’d only brought so much with him, and that money now resided in the center of the table. “It seems I must wager an object rather than any more cash tonight.”
“What of that jacket?” the gentleman across the table who had been winning all night asked, leaning across the surface. “Mighty fine, that is.” He was a naval captain, stationed in the bay, and had often been seen in this club, almost as much as Antony had been.
“Captain Jacobs, you wish the chance to win my jacket?” Antony asked, unable to stop his laughter at the idea.
“I don’t get the chance to wear such a fine thing in my day-to-day life. If you’re willing to wager it…” the captain paused and gestured to the tailcoat again. “I’d be mighty grateful.”
Antony was not fussed. He had many such jackets at home, and his wealth could afford to buy him more easily. He unbuttoned the jacket and tossed it into the center of the table, much to the pleasure of the other gentlemen.
“Call,” the captain said. “Everyone show their hands.” The three gentlemen left in this round placed their cards down, including Antony. He had a straight, with an eight, a nine, a ten, a jack and a queen. Unfortunately, Captain Jacobs also had a straight, but he had the higher cards, beginning at nine and ending on a king.
“Well, my luck is with me tonight!” he laughed and pulled the jacket off the table, eagerly standing to pull it over his own uniform. Antony laughed with the others at the display the captain was making, until he felt a firm hand on his shoulder.
“What did you do?” Fergus’ voice disturbed him.
“If you excuse me, gentlemen, I think my luck has finished for tonight.” Antony nodded his head to the others at the card table in turn before he stood to greet his brother. The two of them walked a little distance away from the card table. “I wagered my jacket and lost.”
“It’s a cold night outside! You’ll freeze,” Fergus said. “You are getting more and more reckless here.”
“Hardly, it is just a jacket,” Antony shrugged. “It is not a big deal. How was your evening?” he asked Fergus, watching as his younger brother smiled. Fergus possessed the same chestnut brown hair he had, but where Antony had piercing blue eyes and angular features, Fergus had softer brown eyes and more rounded features. The result was a man who always seemed to have a smile on his face.
“Particularly enjoyable,” Fergus chuckled as he glanced back at a young lady who passed by him, lingering with a hand on his arm before she disappeared. “And yours?”
“It was fine,” Antony said, holding back what he truly felt. Despite his attempts, Fergus looked sharply at him.
“If you do not like it here anymore, why do you come?” Fergus said with raised eyebrows.
“I will never marry, Fergus,” Antony repeated the words he had said so many times over the last three years. “Where else am I supposed to find what I need?”
“You could find a wife?”
“No, I will not. Rest assured, I will stay true to my promise to you.” He pointed at his brother, watching as Fergus’ smile grew.
He had made the promise to Fergus three years ago, when his outlook on life had flipped completely. He intended never to marry, so that Fergus would inherit the dukedom from him.
“Well, I can’t pretend I don’t look forward to being Duke,” Fergus said with laughter. “I’ll be old and grey by the time it comes though.”
“Your Grace.” A lady appeared at his side, a different one to earlier that evening. “A message has arrived for you.” She passed a folded piece of parchment into his hands and walked on.
Pulling the parchment open, he was dismayed to find his mother’s handwriting.
“Who is it from?” Fergus asked.
“It seems, our mother knows exactly where we have been tonight,” Antony said slowly, watching as Fergus shifted in his chair, clearly as uncomfortable with the idea as he was. He turned his attention to the rest of the note.
My dear Antony,
I must request both your company and your brother’s home at once, for we have guests. Please return so I can introduce them to you.
Love, Your Mother
“We have guests,” Antony said, folding up the parchment sharply with some frustration. “It seems, we must return home.”
“You can’t go home like that,” Fergus said, pointing at his lack of a jacket. “One minute.” As they both stood to their feet, Fergus hurried off in the direction of the entrance hall, returning a moment later with what was a very scruffy jacket in his hand.
“Where did you find that?” Antony laughed at the garment. It appeared to have been dragged through mud at least twice in its lifetime and was ripped too, several times over.
“Someone left it behind one night. At least it will keep you warm,” Fergus said. “Or would you like to suffer the chill tonight?”
Antony took the jacket from his brother’s hands and pulled it on over his shoulders before the two of them walked outside toward the carriage that awaited them. Once inside, Fergus started talking at length of the good evening he’d had, but Antony could not join in. As a naval officer, Fergus was often away on long trips, and his time at the gentleman’s club was always much looked forward to. Antony did not have the same feelings about it.
“Was the lady you were with so incapable of drawing a single smile from you?” Fergus asked when they were halfway back to the house, drawing Antony from his thoughts. “I wonder if you are choosing the right woman for you. Maybe you should stop going to such clubs and join the events of the ton instead.”
“The right woman?” Antony laughed. “The right woman does not exist!”
“How do you know that?” Fergus said kindly, but despite the soft tone, Antony felt his anger tense his body.
“I have seen the right woman doesn’t exist, Fergus. I do not wish to go down that route again.”
