A Dangerous Game (Regency Spies & Secrets Book 2) Read online

  A Dangerous Game

  Regency Spies & Secrets #2

  Laura Beers

  © Copyright 2021 by Laura Beers

  Text by Laura Beers

  Cover by Dar Albert

  Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.

  P.O. Box 7968

  La Verne CA 91750

  [email protected]

  Produced in the United States of America

  First Edition April 2021

  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:

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook, once purchased, may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or borrow it, or it was not purchased for you and given as a gift for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. If this book was purchased on an unauthorized platform, then it is a pirated and/or unauthorized copy and violators will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Do not purchase or accept pirated copies. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work. For subsidiary rights, contact Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.

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  Dearest Reader;

  Thank you for your support of a small press. At Dragonblade Publishing, we strive to bring you the highest quality Historical Romance from the some of the best authors in the business. Without your support, there is no ‘us’, so we sincerely hope you adore these stories and find some new favorite authors along the way.

  Happy Reading!

  CEO, Dragonblade Publishing

  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Laura Beers

  The Regency Spies & Secrets Series

  A Dangerous Pursuit (Book 1)

  A Dangerous Game (Book 2)

  A Dangerous Lord (Book 3)

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Publisher’s Note

  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Laura Beers

  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

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  England, 1814

  Miss Emmeline Lockhart found herself in the most peculiar situation. She had been told that she should feel immense gratitude for the position that she was in, but all she felt was dread at the thought of marrying the Duke of Billingham.

  She snuck a glance at the aged duke, who was sitting at the head of the table, and studied him without his knowledge. His thin, worn face was covered with deep wrinkles, he had tufts of white hair around his balding, mottled scalp, and his shoulders were hunched over.

  The duke was speaking to her aunt, Lady Taylor, and she saw a large piece of food stuck in his crooked, yellow teeth. She shuddered as she reached for her glass, knowing this was destined to be her future.

  Turning his attention towards her, the duke asked in a thin, breathy voice, “Are you cold, my dear?”

  Emmeline shook her head. “No, Your Grace, but I thank you kindly for asking.” She took a sip of her drink, hoping he would continue his conversation with her aunt. But she was not so fortunate.

  The duke considered her for a moment before saying, “It is rather drafty in the dining room. I can’t risk you catching a cold before our nuptials.”

  “I assure you that I am perfectly well.”

  Appearing unconvinced, the duke snapped his fingers and a footman promptly appeared at his side. “Will you stoke the fire and bring a blanket for Miss Lockhart?”

  “That isn’t necessary, Your Grace,” she attempted.

  He smiled at her, and she grimaced at the piece of food that was still stuck in his teeth. If anything, it appeared to have gotten larger. How was that possible?

  “It is my privilege to take care of you,” the duke said.

  Her aunt spoke up. “That is very generous of you,” she gushed, giving her niece a look that implied she should behave. “Isn’t it, Emmeline?”

  Emmeline brought a smile to her lips. “It is, and I thank you for your concern.”

  “We shall have to purchase you some sturdier gowns after we are wed,” the duke remarked. “Billingham House can get rather drafty in the winter months and I daresay your muslin gowns won’t be sufficient.”

  “Do you not retire to the country for the winter months?” Emmeline asked.

  “I do not,” he replied. “I find that traveling does not suit me. At least not anymore.”

  Her uncle, Lord Taylor, wiped the sides of his mouth with his napkin, then said, “I daresay that I would have no desire to leave London if I resided in a beautiful townhouse such as yours.”

  The duke bobbed his head in agreement. “My late wife, Diana, spent hours decorating Billingham House before her unexpected death.”

  “Our condolences,” Lady Taylor expressed. “It is always hard to lose a loved one, especially a spouse.”

  “Thank you,” the duke replied. “We may have only been married for a few years, but I did eventually grow to care for her. She was an agreeable person.”

  “What a lovely thing to say,” Emmeline remarked tersely but softened her words with a smile.

  Appearing unaware of the snideness of her comment, the duke returned her smile. “I have buried four wives in my lifetime, which is why I decided I needed to marry someone much younger this time. That way I can ensure you will outlive me.”

  “How wonderful,” Emmeline muttered.

  Her aunt cleared her throat and shot her a warning look. “What Emmeline is trying to convey is that she is very blessed to be your betrothed. Aren’t you?”

  “Yes, so incredibly blessed,” Emmeline said, her words sounding forced to her own ears.

  The duke puffed his chest out in pride at her words, and she wondered if he could hear everything that she was saying. Perhaps he was going deaf in his old age.

  “I knew we would suit admirably the moment I saw you,” the duke remarked. “Furthermore, I still require an heir. My previous wives greatly disappointed me in that regard, especially my first wife. She was unable to have children.”

  Lady Taylor smiled at the duke. “You do have lovely daughters, Your Grace.”

  “Bah,” he replied forcefully. “I don’t need any more daughters. I require a son. An heir.”

  Emmeline turned her attention towards the blue-papered walls and attempted to hide her growing agitatio
n. The duke’s only purpose for her was to produce a son, and quickly.

  The duke’s next words drew her attention back. “My doctor will need to examine you before the wedding to ensure you can bear children.”

  “Pardon?” she asked, hoping she’d misheard him.

  “I can’t take the chance that you are barren,” the duke said simply, “and I have been told it is a simple exam.”

  “Lovely,” she remarked dryly as a footman placed a blanket onto her lap. “I shall have something to look forward to.”

  “Per the contract, for every son you produce, you will be handsomely rewarded,” the duke shared.

  “And if I have a girl?”

  The duke frowned. “Then you shall be given nothing for your troubles.”

  “I see.”

  “Do you anticipate having a problem with bearing sons?” the duke questioned.

  “I don’t think it is something that I can control,” she admitted.

  The duke waved his hand dismissively in front of him. “You need not to fret about that,” he declared. “You are still young and will be able to bear many children for me.”

  “May I ask how old your daughters are?”

  The duke stared at her blankly. “I am not entirely sure. They are away at boarding school.”

  “You don’t know the ages of your own children?” she asked in disbelief.

  “I don’t pay attention to such trivial details,” the duke replied.

  Emmeline kept her face expressionless as she questioned, “Do you at least know how many children you have?”

  The duke chuckled. “What a delight you are,” he said. “Yes, I have three daughters, but you don’t need to concern yourself with them until they are old enough for a Season. Then, you shall have the honor of introducing them into Society.”

  Emmeline leaned to the side as a footman placed a dessert plate in front of her. As she reached for her fork, she asked, “What hobbies do you enjoy, Your Grace?”

  “I enjoy dissected puzzles.”

  “As do I,” Emmeline replied. “I enjoy putting the map of Europe together.”

  The duke bobbed his head in approval. “I used to be an avid reader, but my eyes are not what they used to be. I shall require you to read to me in the evenings.”

  “My niece would be happy to do that,” Lady Taylor said enthusiastically. “She loves reading and talking. Those are her two favorite things to do.”

  Emmeline stifled the groan that came to her lips. What an absurd thing to say, she thought.

  “I do not enjoy useless chatter, mind you,” the duke revealed. “There is no place for it in my home.”

  Lady Taylor bobbed her head. “Emmeline has practically perfected the art of polite conversation. Haven’t you, dear?”

  “I have,” Emmeline replied. “I do so love talking about the weather, the state of the gardens, and my many accomplishments.”

  “That pleases me immensely to hear,” the duke said. “My previous wives expected me to converse with them over dinner.”

  “How horrifying,” Emmeline declared, bringing a hand up to her chest to feign outrage.

  “I see we share a similar mindset,” the duke remarked. “Generally, I prefer to retreat to my own thoughts when I eat.”

  Emmeline started eating the tart that was placed before her and wondered how she was going to get herself out of this unfortunate situation. She couldn’t marry this man, no matter that he was a duke.

  “Do you ride, Miss Lockhart?” the duke asked.

  “I do.”

  “Then we shall have to acquire you a horse.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Emmeline revealed as she placed her fork on the plate. “I already own a horse.”

  “You must be an accomplished rider then.”

  She nodded. “I am.”

  “That is a fine pastime for a young woman to have,” the duke praised.

  Her uncle placed his napkin onto his plate and shared, “My niece spends hours riding around our country estate. I daresay she would prefer to ride over anything else.”

  “Is that so?” the duke asked.

  “It is,” Emmeline confirmed. “I find riding to be incredibly gratifying.”

  The duke eyed her with approval. “You shall be able to ride on our lands, assuming you take two grooms along with you.”

  “That won’t be necessary—” she attempted.

  He cut her off, his voice curt. “You will be a duchess, and it is not appropriate for you to travel anywhere without an escort.”

  Emmeline lowered her gaze to her hands in her lap.

  “Dear heavens, that was poorly done of me,” the duke said. “I apologize for being so sharp with you.”

  She brought her gaze back up to meet his. “Consider it forgotten, Your Grace.”

  The duke smiled again, drawing her attention back to the food stuck in his teeth. “As long as you are mindful to remember your place, we shall have a happy union.”

  “My place?” she found herself questioning.

  The duke’s smile dimmed. “I am marrying you, without a dowry,” he explained. “I must say that it is rather generous of me.”

  Lady Taylor interjected, “It is most generous of you, Your Grace.”

  “In exchange, I expect you to be an obedient wife,” the duke continued. “I was assured by Lord and Lady Taylor that wouldn’t be an issue.”

  Emmeline frowned as she saw her aunt and uncle glaring at her from across the table. She knew what was expected of her, but she truly didn’t want to go along with this marriage. She had no doubt that it would be a disaster, for everyone involved. It was better if the duke discovered now that they didn’t suit rather than wait until after the wedding.

  As she opened her mouth to speak, her uncle interrupted her. “Emmeline is still tired from our long journey to Town. I have no doubt when she is rested, she will be back to her charming self.”

  Turning his attention towards her uncle, the duke remarked, “Long carriage rides can be quite taxing for a lady’s delicate constitution.”

  “That they can be,” Lord Taylor agreed.

  The duke pushed back his chair and slowly rose. “Perhaps we can adjourn to my study for some port while the ladies enjoy some tea in the drawing room.”

  “What a splendid idea,” Lady Taylor said, rising.

  While Emmeline rose, she noticed the duke lewdly perusing the length of her, his eyes sparking in approval.

  “You are looking especially lovely this evening, Miss Lockhart,” the duke said as his eyes remained fixed on the round neckline of her white muslin gown.

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” she muttered as she resisted the urge to flee from his presence.

  Her aunt came around the table to stand next to her. In a hushed voice, she ordered, “Behave, Emmeline.”

  The duke stepped closer to her, and he finally brought his gaze up to meet hers. “I hope to hear you play the pianoforte this evening.”

  “I would be honored,” she replied.

  He extended his wrinkled hand and gave her an expectant look. Emmeline stared at his hand for a moment before she tentatively placed hers in his.

  His crooked fingers closed around her hand and he brought it up to his lips. As he pressed his wet, slimy lips against her bare knuckles, she felt the bile rise up in her throat. She didn’t know how much longer she could go along with this engagement.

  Fortunately, he released her hand with a self-satisfied smile. “I must admit that I am looking forward to our wedding night.”

  Unsure of how to reply, Emmeline remained quiet, hoping he would step back and adjourn to his study.

  “You are speechless,” the duke said, amused. “That is an admirable quality for a young woman to have.”

  Emmeline’s lips parted in surprise at the duke’s remarks, but before she could release her sharp tongue on him, he left the room without a parting glance at her.

  “Well, I have never been so embarrassed,” her aunt mumbl
ed under her breath. “Your behavior was atrocious.”

  “My behavior?” Emmeline questioned.

  Lady Taylor gave her a disbelieving look. “We shall discuss this later,” she said before departing from the room.

  Emmeline stared at her aunt’s retreating figure, wondering if anyone would truly miss her if she climbed out of the window and ran far, far away.

  The coach door had barely closed when her dark-haired, petite aunt turned a heated gaze towards her. “Your behavior this evening was horrendous, Emmeline.”

  “Was it?” Emmeline questioned.

  “Yes, it was,” Betty replied. “Frankly, it was embarrassing.”

  Emmeline glanced out the window as the coach jerked forward. “You are working yourself into a frenzy for nothing because I don’t think the duke heard half of what I said.”

  “That is beside the point,” Betty continued, “you mustn’t anger the duke.”

  “Why?” Emmeline asked, bringing her aunt’s gaze back to meet hers. “With any luck, he will call off the wedding.”

  Betty stared at her with a dumbfounded expression. “Don’t you want to be the Duchess of Billingham?”

  “No,” she replied. “I never have.”

  “That is just foolish talk,” Betty said. “Your uncle worked hard to negotiate this advantageous marriage between you and the duke.”

  “Without my permission, I might add,” Emmeline remarked.

  Betty stiffened. “Do I truly need to remind you that you have no dowry?”

  “I am well aware of that fact.”

  Turning her gaze towards her husband, Betty asked, “Will you try to talk some sense into this obstinate girl, George?”

  Her uncle gave her a pointed look. “You must understand the advantages of marrying the Duke of Billingham,” he started. “You will become a duchess, and your station will become elevated.”

  “But the duke is nearly eighty years old,” Emmeline complained.

  Betty interjected, “Which means he won’t live much longer, and you will be a rich widow. Just think of the freedom you will possess.”

  George nodded. “It’s true,” he responded. “We spoke at great length about your jointure, and I ensured that you will be well taken care of upon his death.”