Hold Your Breath 01 - Stone Devil Duke (6 page)

“
Some of the gossip scared you?”

“What?” Her head tilted i
n slight shake. “Oh, the gossip. The Stone Devil, is that what they call you?”

He
blinked, almost stung, then a mask of indifference settled across his brow. “It is.”

“Let me assure you,
your grace, I am not concerned of your activities or of what people call you. I have met the devil, so you do little to frighten me.”

“Then you would like to avoid me why?”

“It is clear you know too much about me. That is a threat. And that will not do.”

“You have no idea what I will do with my knowledge of you.”

“Exactly. With only a few words to the wrong person, you could ruin my only chance at saving myself and my family.” Aggie looked away from his face at the nearest windows to the ballroom. “Beyond that, you are a dangerous man, your grace.”

“
Dangerous?”

“
You produced a pistol far too fast last night not to be dangerous. Your skill in how you fight. Your skill with a knife. How you look at me.” Aggie took a deep breath, eyes solemn as she looked up at him. There was nothing in those grey eyes that was good for her. “You are a dangerous man, your grace, and I have enough danger in my life at the moment.”

He didn’t answer right away, instead,
his fingers slipped around her left hand and he raised it, palm up. The knuckle of his forefinger went to her wrist at the edge of her short glove. He ran his knuckle up the long winding scar that curved around her arm, from wrist to elbow. The line of the pink, slightly raised skin had deterred many men from her dance card, but Aggie refused to cover it with long gloves, as her aunt often suggested. It was an easy test of character.

“This looks recent.”

The gesture, so small, so innocent, became entirely too intimate after a moment. Aggie knew she needed to pull away from his fingertips, but could only do so slowly.

“A riding accident. It causes no pain.”

Not letting her escape the touch so quickly, the duke leaned in, the right side of his mouth lifted. “Do you not find your own work with a pistol dangerous?”

“
Of course it is. But I am a woman. And I do what I do because I have to. Because I have been forced into it. Not because I choose to.”

“There is always a choice, Aggie.”

Aggie bit her tongue. Not for her. She didn’t bother to argue. Her current state, what she had been forced to do, was something the duke could never understand.

“
Your grace, although your reputation does precede you, I have no indication that you are the sort of man who takes pleasure in ruining the reputations of innocent women.”

He gave her an odd
look at the word “innocent.”

Aggie
chose to ignore the look. “I must believe that you would gain nothing by allowing our little secret out—except to hurt me. As a gentleman…” She let her voice trail off, looking up at him. As much as it grinded her pride, she allowed him to see the hope in her face, her hands gripped tightly about her fan.

His jaw suddenly flexed hard, and Aggie
could see everything start to slip away.

“I guess
we will just have to wait to see if I am a gentleman or not. And how close your speculation hits to the truth.”

His words were clipped. Meant to be final to her request.

Still holding her breath, Aggie nodded. It was all he was going to give her.

She turned
to the railing to hide her disappointment, gripping it with both hands, letting her fan dangle from her wrist above the crawling rose bushes.

“
Your grace,” Aggie’s eyes were trained on the rooftop of the house on the other side of the courtyard, “there is one other point I mean to ask you about, for it doesn’t seem to accommodate the rest of the information I have heard about you.”

“Yes?”

“Why, your grace, did you attend this particular ball tonight?”

She turned back toward him. “There is little economic or
social advancement for your friend Lord Southfork to make in this crowd. You are rarely seen out except for that mission. I frankly, see no reason for you to be here—and I, of course, would rather our paths never cross again. So if I knew what drew you here tonight, I could make an extra effort to avoid it and any further passings between the two of us.”

The d
uke’s eyes bored into her coolly, pausing before answering. Then he reached up to caress one of the tendrils that hung along her neck.

Startled
, Aggie tried to not react and move her head away. She had cowered enough tonight.

He leaned down, mere inches a
way from her face, eyes locked on hers.

“My dear
Augustine, for all the knowledge you seem to possess of me, of the world, I am truly surprised you have yet to figure it out.” A thoughtful look crossed his hard features. “I am here for one thing, and one thing only. The answer, Aggie, is right under your nose.”

Instinct sent
Aggie’s eyes downward. Past the duke’s smartly tailored evening coat, only to land on the sight of a very pulsating, manly bulge, set off beautifully by the tight trousers he wore. Her eyes didn’t linger, instead, flashing up to his, then to her clasped hands, which had immediately moved up between them.

“Ex…
excuse me, your grace,” Aggie stuttered out. She tried to catch her breath as she wedged herself between his unmoving form and the lattice wall. “I really must be getting back to my aunt. Thank you for the pleasant…conversation.”

Clear of him, s
he snatched back a bit of her control but could feel the scarlet in her cheeks. Her eyes went to the farthest reach of his jacket-clad shoulder. “I trust our secret of last night will stay a secret. It is the only gentlemanly thing to do, after all.”

She
shot him one last hopeful look, trying to minimize the embarrassed scrunch of her forehead. She couldn’t hold his gaze but for a second.

Not allowing him
time to utter a response, Aggie lifted up her light cream skirt and half ran, half groped her way around the side of the house back into the ball, making a straight line to the comfort of her aunt’s side.

The duke’s bellowing laughter trailed her into the ballroom.

Halfway home in her aunt and uncle’s carriage, and Aggie had
spent the entire time berating herself for her encounter with the Duke of Dunway.

She had acted like a
twit. He had acted like an ogre. Any man who would throw a silly thing like nightly excursions as a hack driver into a lady’s face, just didn’t deserve to be called a gentleman, she fumed. Completely uncalled for.

After feigning
a headache moments after returning to her aunt’s side, she escaped the ball. Hopefully, with any luck, that was the last time she would ever have to see the man. And if not…well, she’d already decided to forget the whole incident and pretend she had never met him.

Aggie
tuned in and out of her aunt and uncle’s chattering, looking out the carriage window at the dark sky. Clouds were thickening, wet fury building, and that meant another night of sopping wet clothes.

S
he would do or suffer through anything to give herself peace when it came to her family’s safety. Even if it meant London streets full of wet, mushy filth. Too bad tracking down murderers didn’t allow for nights off.

Her thoughts unwittingly landed back on the Duke of Dunway
. Disgusted that he popped back into her thoughts so quickly, she gave herself a shake. He was a problem, she couldn’t deny it.

The infuriating man
could unveil her activities without the slightest glance back over his shoulder. One who could destroy her plans—much too easily and much too quickly.

Sure, she was an oddity;
she knew that. But she should have been inconsequential to a man with his considerable status and power—a hiccup in his life. Maybe he had forgotten their whole little scene on the balcony by now. And with luck, the inconvenience she had caused him the previous night in the street fight would also soon leave his mind.

W
ith even more luck, she would find her father’s other murderers tonight, and be done with the whole affair before he exposed her escapades.

“Aggie dear, are you a
ll right? You look a bit flushed and preoccupied,” her aunt said, worry evident in her brow. “Does your headache bother you overly much?”

Aggie
forced a smile. “No, Aunt Bea, I am fine, just a little tired. You saw me earlier, and I could not get back to sleep today.”

“Well,
no surprise after the last year you have had,” Uncle Howard said.

“Hush
, Howard, she does not need you bringing up old memories.”

“
Really, Aunt Bea, it is fine. Rarely an hour goes by that I do not think of all that has happened.”

Sadness touched both
of their eyes as they looked at her. Aggie knew they wanted her to move on from the past. They had wasted no time or expense in surrounding her with gaiety to lighten her mood, but they knew they were failing miserably.

Aggie felt guilty that t
hey had come back to town, leaving their travels, specifically to get Aggie out into society and hopefully find a suitable mate for her. Although she went to the functions with politeness, she never immersed herself in the fun, nor encouraged any man’s attentions. They wanted desperately to help her move on with life, and she could manage very little to help with that endeavor.

“Oh
, sweetie,” Aunt Beatrix said brightly, bursting into Aggie’s thoughts, “I was told, on good authority, that the Marquess of Southfork was inquiring about you tonight.”

“The M
arquess of Southfork?” Aggie hid the catch in her throat. “Do I know him?”

“No, I do
not believe so, but maybe you have seen him? Dark-blond hair, handsome—extremely dashing—on his way up in society.”

Aggie shook her head. “I would pay no heed, Aunt Bea
. Rumors. I am sure it was nothing.”

Nothing except the duke finding a way to ruin her life, Aggie thought.

“Oh, do not be so sure, sweetie. He is quite the charming man. Wealthy and well-respected, too. Howard, you knew his father?”

“Y
es, yes, I do recall. Fine man, I remember. Sad ending though, I believe.”

“D
ribble on that, Howard. Anyway, Aggie, he was inquiring after you—we shall have to make certain to show up at some of the same functions as he over the next weeks.”

“Really, there
is no need to, Aunt Bea,” Aggie said “I am positive it was of no consequence.”

“T
here is no use in disregarding this. It will hurt nothing to gain proximity to the gentleman—I will make plans immediately.”

Aggie produced a smile for her aunt.
Satisfied, Aunt Beatrix leaned back into the cushions, a plotting look on her face. Aggie had learned long ago it was much easier to just placate her aunt, rather than waste time in trying to dissuade her from a course she had already set on. And she had decided to get Aggie a husband. The coach fell silent again and Aggie returned to running through the checklist in her mind to get ready for the night.

The carriage arrived at Aggie’s townhouse
, and after promises that she would attend the Appleton party the next night, she escaped inside with no more talk of finding a husband.

From the front window, s
he watched their carriage amble down the street, then continued quickly up to her room to change.

At the door to her room
, Aggie paused when she saw light spilling out from the crack under her mother’s doorway. A stab of hope went through her.

Quietly, she
went and opened the heavy door. She was greeted with her mother sitting in bed, her now grey hair hanging tangled around her face, staring at nothing, her hand monotonously patting her thigh over and over.

Aggie swallowed hard
and walked over to the single candle that was lit next to the bed, softly chattering to her mother about the beauty of the ball. There was no acknowledgement of Aggie’s presence.

Aggie
hid a sigh as she grabbed her mother’s shoulders and gently pushed her back onto the pillows. The arm stopped moving, but her mother’s face remained blank, eyes seeing nothing. Some days were better than others. But tonight her mother had slipped into her lost world.

Aggie snuffed the candle
and turned to the door, her heart heavy in her chest. Grabbing the knob, she glanced back at her mother, now illuminated in the hall light.

Maybe, just maybe, if her father’s m
urderers were brought to justice, the mother she had known and loved might resurface, if only just partially. Aggie would give anything to make that happen.

Aggie stepped into the hallway and quietly closed the door. She moved on to her sister’s room. All was dark, and he
r sister was in bed, her breathing deep and even. Aggie turned to leave the room.

“Aggie—wait. Are you leaving again tonight?”

Aggie froze, her hand on the doorknob. She didn’t turn around. “What do you mean, ‘leave’?”

“
Go out again—where do you go? I have seen you leave in those clothes. Those boy clothes. I worry.” Her sister’s voice sounded scared and so very young.

Aggie turned
as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she saw her sister sitting up in the four-post bed. She walked over and seated herself next to Lizzie. “It really is nothing to worry about, Lizzie.” Aggie smoothed a strand of curly blond hair out of her sister’s face.

“I jus
t have to go out sometimes. Do not fret.” Aggie tried to infuse some enthusiasm into her voice. “We will soon be leaving London to go back to Clapinshire.”

“But why do you have to leave
at night?”

Aggie sighed. S
he didn’t want to lie to Lizzie, but there was no way she would ever tell her the full truth. A half-truth would have to do. “I am looking for a way to help mother.”

Lizzie’s eyes turn
ed solemn. “Mother,” she nodded. “I understand.”

Aggie kissed her cheek and stood up. “Now get some sleep and do
not worry. Everything will be just fine. Oh, and Aunt Beatrix and Uncle Howard probably do not need to hear about this, all right? I do not want to worry either of them, all right?”

“All right
.” Lizzie snuggled back under the covers that Aggie tucked around her.

Aggie moved across the room to leave.

“Aggie?”

“Yes?”

“Will Mama get better?”

Aggie forced a bright smile on her face
, even as her heart broke for her little sister. “I hope so, Lizzie. I really hope so.”

She
closed the door and then leaned back against it. Her sister was too old for a nine-year-old. She had lost too much in her short life, and Aggie was determined that her sister’s life be as normal as possible. She would allow no more loss to enter into Lizzie’s already fragmented world.

Aggie knew she was a terrible substitute for a mother, but
if she could give Lizzie that—that one thing—a life where she lost no more people she loved, then Aggie would be happy.

Wiping the corners of her wet eyes, Aggie moved back to her room
. Quickly stripping down to her chemise, she went to her wardrobe. Digging down to the bottom, an exasperated smile appeared as she pulled out her recently washed and pressed shirt and breeches, along with her now-clean, tall, black boots and cape. Her maid. Never asking, never telling. She didn’t pay her nearly enough.

Sit
ting on the bed, one candle lit next to her, Aggie pulled on the black breeches, then stood and gave a few quick jumps on her toes, relishing the comfort of them, even if they did fit a bit too snugly at the hips.

She pulled on the shirt, laced up the tall boots, and
attached the large dark cloak about her. Onto her knees, she pulled a wooden box from under her bed.

Opening it, she grabbed the tin
that kept the soot, and she spread the blackness heavily under her eyes for a sunken-eye look, then across her chin, forehead, and cheeks for the filthiest of appearances.

Pulling pins from her hair, she tousled her hair down from her upsweep, and retwisted it tightly, pinning it up and tucking it under the black cap she had swiped from the stables several weeks ago.

Going back to the wooden box, she pulled six pistols, one by one from their neat holders in the box. She ch
ecked each for a bullet and gun-powder, then strapped one above her left boot and one higher up on her right thigh. The other four pistols went securely into special pockets she had sewn into her cloak.

Stepping over to
the mirror to study her costume, she was, as always, quite pleased with the entire effect. She looked like a skinny, dirty, down-on-his-luck hack driver. And she knew with a splash of brandy onto her cloak on the way out of the house, her smell would complete the disguise.

Aggie
made her way out through the gardens and slipped through the back gate. Scurrying through the blocks of courtyards and alleys, she stopped behind the nearby stables. Tommy, the young apprentice to the Bow Street runner she had hired to help her gather information on her father’s murderers, waited outside for her. Sunshine was already hitched to the carriage.

She
had hired Tommy when she realized she would need someone discreet to ready her coach and horse every night. Tommy was a young lad, a bit scruffy, but he had the most intelligent eyes. Aggie liked him very much.

“Evening, my lady.
” Tommy’s cap came off as he greeted her with his usual grin, which quickly turned into a determined look. She knew what was coming.

“My lady, I know
it is not me business. I know what your answer will be. But I worry on your safety, my lady. You know well that there be plenty of men who can do this business for you.”

He
tightened his cap back on his head. “Just hire one of ‘em, please, my lady. It could save you from much harm. And me from much guilt.”

H
e did this every night she went out as a hack driver. And every night, he failed at getting her to veer off-course.

“
Tommy, you know full well why I do this myself. I do not want any man being hurt or killed because of a confusion,” she said, keeping the reprimand in her voice to a minimum. “I am the only one who can recognize these men for certain, and I will not risk someone else’s safety, or the possibility that the job will not get done, just because I am scared or could get hurt.”

His gaze fell
downward. Aggie softened her tone. “Tommy, I realize you are only looking out for my best interest. And I know you believe I am in constant peril, but you must not worry. I know what I am up to, and I know how to protect myself.”

He looked back up at her, worry still evident, but wanting to believe what she said.

“Your help has been invaluable to me, and the best way you can help me is to continue to find out as much as you can about the last two men and keep the coach and horse a secret.”

Aggie put on her brightest smile. “
I really do not know how I could continue safely without your help, Tommy.”