THE DUKE’S CARRIAGE WINDOW

THE ROGUES OF DEVIL’S SQUARE

BOOK TWO

LAUREN SMITH

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Epilogue

About the Author

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2025 by Lauren Smith

Cover design by Forever After Romance Designs

Lauren Smith supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact Lauren@Laurensmithbooks.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

ISBN: 978-1-962760-98-0 (ebook)

ISBN: 978-1-962760-99-7 (Trade paperback)

This book is for Lori and Meredith. Lori has been a bright start of support and friendship for me these many years of writing. The heroine in this book is inspired by and named after her daughter Meredith. Happily ever afters always exist as long as readers like you keep turning the pages!

1

BURTON AGNES, YORKSHIRE, ENGLAND - 1817

Meredith Montague’s heart was breaking.

She held her Uncle Benjamin’s hand as she watched his chest rise and fall in shallow breaths. All was quiet in the bedchamber of Burton House, the residence that she’d called home for the last five years. Dusk had settled in over the wild gardens beyond the windows of her uncle’s room.

She had seen death before, with her mother when she’d been fourteen. But even now, at nineteen, she was still not used to the creeping, foreboding presence of the end. It was not frightening, but it filled her with a quiet, choking despair. She couldn’t stop death, not even to save someone she loved.

“Meredith,” her uncle rasped. “There’s a letter in the top drawer of my desk… in my study. You must take it to my nephew in London.”

“Your nephew?”

“Yes… Darius, the son of my elder brother. He is the Duke of Tiverton.”

Meredith had heard about Darius a few times, but Uncle Ben was a very quiet, reserved man when it came to his family. He had been close with his elder brother and had not taken his death well. It had broken her uncle, just as surely as his death would break Meredith.

Uncle Ben’s blue eyes were still clear enough that she saw he was making every effort to convey the importance of the matter.

“Darius is a good man… I’ve asked him to take care of you, as I have done… I have asked him… to find you a husband.”

Her uncle coughed, and she went to fetch a glass of water for him. He lay back in his bed with a heavy sigh. She didn’t want to upset her uncle, but she had to understand what he intended for her.

“Darius… Darius must take me in? I cannot stay here?”

She wanted to stay at Burton House with its sunny rooms and splendid old white and blue china teacups, and the comfort of the quiet world here did not frighten her. This was her home. Uncle Ben was her home.

“We both know you cannot stay. I have left a provision in my will that Harry must provide you with travel money. But Harry… makes rash decisions. He will not handle the money and land well… But you… I can protect you in the way I cannot protect this house…and sending you to Darius will protect you.”

Harry, Uncle Ben’s only child, was a wild, reckless gentleman that Meredith didn’t trust, or like. He was the sort of man to kick a dog when the poor beast got in his way.

“I understand,” Meredith said softly.

“You can trust Darius, my dear…” Uncle Ben closed his eyes. “Go… find the letter now and I will rest.”

She didn’t want to leave him. Part of her feared that if she stepped outside his bedchamber, he would slip away without her having a chance to say goodbye.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Go on now, Meredith. I promise to be here when you return.”

It took every bit of Meredith’s strength to let go of her uncle’s hand. She paused at the door to look back at the kind, old man asleep on the bed. His illness had ravished his once handsome looks. This man had been a father to her more than uncle.

But in truth, he wasn’t even her uncle. Not by blood.

Her mother Mariah had once been in love with Uncle Ben, but she had chosen another man in the end. Her mother had lived for only a few years with the man who had sired Meredith. She couldn’t even remember what he looked like, only that he had left them penniless when he’d returned to his wife and then he’d died shortly after.

Uncle Ben, newly widowed himself, had taken pity on them and paid for a cottage by the sea near Fraisthorpe Beach on the eastern coast of England, not far from the village of Burton Agnes.

When her mother had died, Uncle Ben had moved Meredith into his home. The last five years had healed her and given her new life and peace. For a time, it had been the same for Uncle Ben, until the illness struck him down.

Now she was to lose her uncle and the peaceful life they had shared in this lovely, old house. There were to be no more morning rides across the estate, no more long walks to the village for midday luncheons. No more visits to the tiny bookshop to buy books that she and Uncle Ben would read and discuss over dinner.

Her mind played over a thousand things that would come to an end once he was gone. It was as though her own life was ending, and it was. This version of herself, the Meredith of Burton Agnes, would be gone forever. She would become someone new, a woman living in London with a stranger, a duke no less.

The idea was terrifying. This duke would have no time for her and certainly no need of her. He would have his gentleman friends, likely a wife, perhaps even a mistress. Uncle Ben had never mentioned Darius being married, but he so rarely spoke of his nephew except to express regret at some terrible quarrel they’d had a few years ago.

Surely, being saddled with her would upset any decent man. Despite her uncle’s assurances, she couldn’t envision a future where her very presence wouldn’t outrage a powerful, influential duke. She was a bastard, a nobody. He would dump her onto the first free man he could convince to marry her, wouldn’t he?

Meredith’s chest tightened with a fierce ache and she swallowed hard.

She drew in a deep breath, trying to still her racing heart. She didn’t want to end up like her mother. She would find a way to save herself. Choosing the wrong man, the wrong life, and having it end all too soon. She wouldn’t let that happen.

“Miss Meredith?” A soft voice disrupted Meredith’s thoughts. She turned away from the bedroom and found Mrs. Todd, the housekeeper, standing beside her. She hadn’t even heard her approach.

“Good evening, Mrs. Todd,” she greeted wearily, and hoped she wouldn’t burst into tears again. The poor woman had been Meredith’s only shoulder to cry on since Uncle Ben’s health had taken such a steep turn for the worse.

Mrs. Todd sent a worried glance toward Uncle Ben’s closed door. “Is he…gone?”

“No, he is sleeping. I am to retrieve a letter from his study. Will you watch him for me?”

“Of course, dear.” Mrs. Todd entered the bedchamber and sat in the chair that Meredith had just vacated.

With the assurance that her uncle was not alone, Meredith went downstairs to her uncle’s study. The room smelled of tobacco and old books, two scents she’d come to cherish for the warm memories they created. Shelves full of so many wonderful stories made the room cozy despite its enormous size.

The desk was covered with a mess of papers, but Meredith ignored it and opened the drawers. After a bit of searching, she found what she was looking for. A letter bearing the Duke of Tiverton’s name and address in London. She tucked the letter into the pockets of her skirts before she exited the study. As she moved to close the door behind her, she bumped into someone.

“Oh! I’m terribly sorry I—” She gasped as a large hand closed around her waist as she turned around.

“What were you doing in my father’s study, Merry?” The nickname grated on her ears.

Harry St. John stood in front of her. He was dressed fashionably in striped trousers and an overflowing style of cravat that matched his carefully coiffed hairstyle. If she were honest, Meredith thought it all made him look very silly. He was a decently handsome man with dark hair and eyes, but it was those same eyes which reminded her to never trust him. They were locked on her with an upsetting intensity.

With a careful slide of her hips, she dislodged his hand from her body. “I was just seeing to something for Uncle Ben.” She didn’t mention the letter. She didn’t trust Harry.

“Oh? May I help?” He sounded sincere, but Meredith didn’t trust the sharp look in his dark eyes.

“No, no thank you, Harry. I’ve seen to it already. When did you arrive?”

“Just now. I received a letter from the butler a week ago saying my father was unwell.” Harry gave her a pointed look. She hadn’t written him with the news, but the butler had. Clearly, that fact displeased him. But Uncle Ben had not wished for Harry to be here and had told her not to write to him. Meredith wasn’t about to cower before Harry for doing what Uncle Ben had asked, no matter how much she bristled at his unspoken accusation.

“Have you seen him yet?” Meredith asked, knowing he had not, but she tried to distract Harry, who was moving his hand toward her hip again.

“I will, when I am ready,” Harry replied. “First, I believe we have things to discuss.”

“We do?” she asked, clueless as to what he thought they would need to talk about.

“Yes.” Harry opened his father’s study door and ushered her back into the room. He closed the door behind him and remained in front of it, blocking her way out.

“My father has paid for your upkeep since you were a child. First with your mother at that little cottage, and now here.”

Meredith didn’t argue, but wondered where this was going.

“Once my father is gone, you will become my responsibility.” Harry leaned back against the closed door. “I will be quite content to allow you to continue living here, of course. But I require something in return to justify the expense of your lodgings and meals.”

“Oh Harry, I couldn’t stay. I—”

He cut her off. “I understand that you were a pleasant companion for my father. You could be a companion to me as well. Of course, I would require things from you that my father did not.” He caught her wrist, jerking her toward him. “I am so very lonely, you see.”

To her surprise and utter horror, Harry tried to kiss her. She only just managed to pull back enough to avoid his lunge. “Harry!” She almost shouted his name as she shoved against him with her free hand. “Let me go once. Please!”

Harry’s eyes darkened and his grip on her wrist tightened.

“Meredith, be reasonable. You are a very pretty girl with no name and no money. How else do you expect to survive? You will only be used by men, it is your fate. At least I am honest about my intentions. I am offering you a way to stay in your home, to keep your belongings and your life here. All you must do is welcome me into your bed.”

Meredith jerked her arm free. “I will not be used by you or anyone,” she warned. “Now get out of my way or I shall scream.” The footmen of the house would come to her defense, even if they might suffer consequences for it. Harry was not exactly a favorite among them.

Harry seemed to weigh his choices before he stepped away from the door. But as Meredith rushed past, he snatched her arm again, even harder than before.

“When he dies, you will be mine,” he hissed in her ear. “No other man will take you in without a payment of some kind. Think on that.” And with that, he released her.

Meredith fled back to Uncle Ben’s room. Mrs. Todd took one look at her and hastily got up from the chair to close the bedroom door so they could speak alone.

“What happened?” she asked in a whisper. “Your face is red, child.”

“Harry. He…” Meredith’s voice had become shaky, and she felt sick to her stomach.

Mrs. Todd’s tone grew sharp. “He hurt you?”

“Only my arm.” Meredith winced as she held out her wrist, which was already bruising.

“Tell me everything he said and did,” the housekeeper insisted.

Meredith explained about the letter in the study and Uncle Ben’s wish to send her to London to Darius, who would take her in. And then she explained how Harry had found her leaving Ben’s study.

“We must pack your things at once. I won’t have you hurt on my watch, child.”

“But I cannot leave Uncle Ben —”

“You won’t. But I want you ready to depart the second he passes.” Mrs. Todd said. “I shall see to everything.”

Meredith nodded and sank warily back in her chair at uncle Ben’s bedside. She yawned and laid her head down on her bended arms just to rest for a few moments.

“Wake up. Wake up, child.” Mrs. Todd’s voice pulled Meredith from the depths of dream. The room was dark except for a single lit candle. Uncle Ben lay still in bed.

She reached for her uncle’s hand, which was now still and cold within her own. No… he’d passed away while she’d been asleep.

“He’s gone, child. Slipped away a short while ago. You were so tired, I didn’t have the heart to wake you. But he knew you were here with him. That’s what matters.”

Meredith stared at Uncle Ben’s face in the candlelight. His features had relaxed and his eyes were closed. The pain that he ravaged his face for weeks was gone at last.

“Did he…suffer?” she asked.

The housekeeper wiped a tear away. “No child. He was looking at you while you slept. Then he smiled, and then after one last breath he was simply…gone.”

Meredith covered her mouth with the back of her hand to stifle a sob. She leapt out of the chair. The housekeeper pulled her into an embrace, gently rubbing her back.

“There, there, my dear. It’s all right. It’s all right.”

But it wasn’t all right. It would never be all right again. The pain in her chest was unbearable. She wanted to scream, to break a vase or, anything to escape the raw inferno of agony that was destroying her heart.

“Breathe, love. Breathe,” Mrs. Todd urged. She placed a hand on Meredith’s cheek. “You’ll survive this, my dear.”

Meredith managed a nod, but she didn’t agree. She was dying inside.

“Say your goodbyes to him, and then we must get you out of this house.”

Meredith had almost forgotten Harry’s threat. There was no time to waste. She bent and pressed a trembling kiss to her uncle’s forehead. Her tears fell upon his waistcoat as she straightened and frantically wiped at her eyes.

“I have you packed, Miss Meredith. Joseph has the coach waiting. He will take you to the stagecoach down the road. I have secured your passage all the way to London. If you need to rest, you can stay in a coaching inn along the way, and the passage will still be good the next day.”

“I have a bit of money …” Meredith began. She’d been saving her pin money.

“I found it and tucked it into your reticule which is with your valise. Be quick now. Master Henry is still asleep. I want you long gone before he wakes. There’s no telling what kind of ideas will get into his head.”

They hastened downstairs. The house was still quiet and dark. It was a few hours until dawn. Not even the servants were up and about yet, except for the groom, Joseph, who waited for her outside by Uncle Ben’s coach.

Meredith hugged Mrs. Todd. “Thank you.”

“Write to me when you reach London now, or else I’ll worry.” The older woman gave Meredith one last hug. Then Joseph helped Meredith into the coach and they were off.

Half an hour later, Meredith was inside the crowded stagecoach that would take her to London. She clutched her reticule tight and gazed out the window at the approaching dawn. The farther she got away from the place which had been her home, the more she was both forlorn and relieved. She’d left behind her only friends and Uncle Ben, but at the same time she had escaped Harry.

She replayed that moment in the study over and over, trying to understand what had made Harry think he could treat her like that.

Harry had never tried to hurt her before. He spent very little time at Burton House. He was ten years her senior and often carousing in London, according to Uncle Ben, but when he came home to visit, he had always been polite. He had never tried to do what he had just done. Not that Meredith had ever trusted him. Mrs. Todd had instructed Meredith to be wary of men she did not know well and included her warnings by saying that even Master Harry was not always a gentleman. Mrs. Todd clearly had known something Meredith hadn’t about Harry.

When the coach stopped to change horses, Meredith stretched her legs and asked the driver how much longer it would take to reach London.

“From here? Five days, miss,” the man replied as the grooms checked the harnesses of the new team of horses that were set to replace the old team.

Five days from Yorkshire to London… It already felt like a thousand years.

* * *

By the fourth night, Meredith decided to use the last of her money to pay for a proper bed at a coaching inn. She had not changed clothes or bathed since she’d started, and she smelled of horses, sweat, and the stable yard.

After she was assured that her passage to London would be valid the following morning, she went inside the inn and spoke to the innkeeper. There were a few spare rooms left, and she paid for a dinner and a breakfast.

“If you want to make the morning stagecoach, I’ll have a maid rouse you,” the innkeeper said.

“Thank you ever so much,” Meredith replied. “Could you send dinner up to my room? I am quite tired and afraid I shall fall asleep.”

The innkeeper seemed to take pity on her. “Of course, lass. Go on up.”

She took the key the man gave her and climbed the creaky stairs to the rooms above the taproom. Her room was only two doors down. Her limbs had grown heavy, as though weighed down by stones. She had barely slept in the last four days. She had to keep an eye on her travel case every time they stopped to make sure no one stole it, and couldn’t risk missing getting back on the coach whenever she needed to relieve herself.

She opened the door to her room and dropped her case on the floor. With a few dragging steps, she collapsed face down on the bed’s feather tick mattress with a groan. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there before a noise behind her forced her to roll over.

A maid, no older than her, balancing a tray on one hip, was trying to close the door behind her as she entered the room.

“Sorry miss, for waking you, I mean. I have your supper.” The maid closed the door and set the tray down on the table by the bed.

“Thank you,” Meredith said as she climbed out of bed. “Does it cost extra to have a small bathing tub brought up?”

“Only if we’re full it would, but we aren’t full tonight. I’ll see if the lads can run up a tub with some water,” the maid replied.

“Thank you. I haven’t bathed in four days,” Meredith confessed.

The maid gave her a sympathetic look. “Eat up, and I shall send the lads up soon.”

Despite her weariness, Meredith devoured the stew and mopped up the remnants of the soup with a thick chunk of bread she’d been given. She wrapped the extra wedge of cheese in a handkerchief for tomorrow’s journey.

Shortly after dinner, two young men carried in a copper tub and filled it with hot water that was still steaming before they left Meredith alone. The tub was not large. All she could do was remove her clothes and stand inside of it. Shivering as the water cooled on her skin, she used a cloth to wipe herself clean of the dust and sweat of the last four days. Dark bruises marred her arm where Harry had manhandled her. The spots were tender to the touch, but she felt a little more like herself now. Once finished, she put on a clean chemise and crawled into bed.

Sleep came instantly, but not without dreams.

“Please, Merry, be a good girl and stay quiet.” Meredith’s mother whispered. She led Meredith up the stairs to the beautiful stone manor house. Her mother’s face, finally free of tears, was still splotchy as she knocked upon the door. It was close to nightfall. Meredith didn’t like the dark. The dark held dangers that every five year old instinctively feared and she pressed herself tight against her mother’s leg, fisting her hands in her skirts.

The door opened and an elderly man stared at them.

“May help you, madame?”

“Please. I need to speak with Mr. St. John,” her mother said. “Tell him it is Miss Mariah Montague.”

The man nodded. “Step into the foyer and I will speak to the master.”

Meredith clutched her mother’s hand as they entered the foyer. Candlelight illuminated the tapestries, and she saw a marble bust of a beautiful woman that looked a little like her mother decorating the space beneath the staircase.

“Remember, you must be quiet.”

Meredith nodded. She was always quiet. Papa didn’t like it when she made noise. He didn’t like to be reminded she existed. But that papa had left her and mama.

The elderly man returned. Behind him was another man, younger, closer in age to her mother. He strode toward her mother, and the elderly man quietly left them to speak alone.

“Mariah? Is it truly you?”

“Yes, Benjamin,” her mother whispered. “I know it’s been quite a long time…”

The man reached up to caress her mother’s cheek. “Are you well? I—”The man’s gaze dropped when he saw Meredith. “And who is this?” his tone was still gentle, still full of concern but as Meredith looked up into his eyes, she wasn’t afraid.

Her mother gently pulled Meredith to stand in front of her. “This is my daughter. Meredith.”

The man glanced between her and her mother before he knelt down in front of her. “Hello Meredith. I am Benjamin, but you may call me Uncle Ben, all right?” He then offered her a warm smile. “Are you hungry?”

Meredith glanced at her mother, who shook her head so Meredith mimicked her.

“Nonsense, you both looked tired and hungry. Come into the drawing room. We’ll have some tea and something to eat. Then you will tell me what’s happened.”

Meredith nestled on a settee beside her mother before a warm fire and dozed off soon after she’d eaten. The man’s voice was oddly soothing. Her papa’s voice had always been distressing to her, but Uncle Ben? He felt safe.

“So it settled, Mariah. You will have a little cottage by the sea. I will see to everything. And you must bring the child to visit me. This house is too quiet since Harry moved to London.”

“You don’t mind that she is…?” She did not finish her question.

“Mariah, she is yours. That means she will always be welcome in my home.”

“Benjamin, I can never thank you enough for saving me … for saving her.”

Meredith woke, feeling tears in her eyes. She’d been so young when she’d first come into Benjamin St. John’s life, but he had been her hero, a father to her more than anyone connected to her by blood.

Now he was gone. That loss sank in deep for the first time in the last four days and she wept, wept for the loss of someone who’d become her world.

So much had happened so quickly. Ben’s illness, his death, and her flight from the house. She could still feel Harry’s hands on her arms, squeezing tight. There was no possibility of staying, not when Harry would demand she become his mistress.

What upset her more was how foolish she’d been to think that Uncle Ben would live forever, and she would always have a safe place with him. She’d given no thought to a life beyond that world. Now she was headed back to London to face a new life, a very new and very terrifying world, and living with a man she’d never met.

Her thoughts drifted to Darius, Uncle Ben’s nephew…the Duke of Tiverton. As she understood it, he and Uncle Ben had argued shortly after Darius’s father had passed away. The fight had upset Ben, but his pride kept him from reaching out to his nephew.

Please let him be kind. Meredith’s only hope was that he could do as her uncle wished and find her a good man to marry. She must be content with that if she could find no other fate of her own making. But a woman born out of wedlock with no real family to her name held few prospects.

I must be content. I must. Whatever comes.

2

Meredith tried to calm her nerves as she climbed the steps of the beautiful townhouse on Knightley Street. She had learned that this lovely little parade of homes also went by another name …Devil’s Square.

When she’d arrived in London an hour ago, she had asked the stagecoach driver if he knew where Knightley Street was.

“You’d best be avoiding the Devil’s Square, miss. What business takes you there?”

She had told him she was visiting a relative, which was mostly true, given that The Duke of Tiverton was family—at least in spirit. After that declaration, the elderly driver relaxed and provided her with the directions to Knightley Street.

Now, as she stood facing this supposed Devil’s Square, she couldn’t understand why the driver would have been concerned. The area was lovely, the front gardens well kept, and the homes themselves were in fine condition. It was clear this was a place where wealthy families lived. Based on the driver’s reaction when he’d spoken of Devil’s Square, she’d expected it to be a rookery of some sort, or some frightening part of the city that would see her dead within the hour simply for trespassing.

She double checked the numbers posted on the gate that separated this house from those on either side. Yes, this was the correct home.

It was built of red brick, and had a neo classical detailing that covered the portico and string courses. The front was covered in wisteria which had climbed all the way up the portico and tiptoed its way to the base of the windows across the brickwork, creating a dazzling waterfall of purple blossoms. Meredith let out a dreamy sigh as she imagined how it would have felt to grow up in a home like this. It was much harder to grow Wisteria in Yorkshire.

Meredith continued to stare at the house. Her heart beat a little faster as she realized her perusal of the house was, in fact, her attempt to stall. She was afraid to knock. Afraid to meet Uncle Ben’s nephew. Afraid of everything that would follow. She was quite literally on a precipice as she stood at the top of the steps leading up to the portico. The late evening sun was dipping below the tops of the trees, bathing everything in a dark gold light which made the house feel very warm, very welcoming. But would that be true of what lay inside? Would she have a home here?

Don’t be such a peahen, Meredith, you have a spine. Just knock.

She braved the last few steps to stand directly in front of the door. She raised a hand to lift the knocker, but the door swung open before she even touched it. A tall figure barreled out, crashing into her.

She gasped, but as she started to fall back, the person grabbed her arms, holding her steady. A cane clattered to the ground at her feet.

“I beg your pardon,” said a deep voice.

Meredith, finally gathering her wits, got a look at the man who had almost sent her tumbling down the stairs.

The man was beautiful. His hair as dark as a raven’s wing, and his penetrating blue eyes were so striking that she could only stare at them. He was tall, quite tall, and to lift her head now, to gaze up into this man’s face, was pleasant in a way she couldn’t explain.

He wore a fine tailored coat of dark green that paired with his buff colored trousers, and they fit him so perfectly she could not help but notice his lean hips and muscled thighs. Meredith blinked as a spark of heat filled her body. This man was appealing in a way she’d never felt before.

She had met a fair few gentlemen whenever she and Uncle Ben had visited the village of Burton Agnes, but she’d never seen anyone like this. He was simply beautiful.

He was also a little frightening, because there was an intensity coiled up within him like a wound spring.

The gentleman’s eyes roved over her in a similar fashion, and Meredith wondered, no, wished, he was as curious about her as she was of him.

Suddenly recalling her purpose for standing there, she spoke.

“Are—are you Lord Tiverton?”

“Yes,” the man replied without hesitation.

Meredith dug into her reticule for Uncle Ben’s letter and held it out to him.

Puzzled, he took the letter and opened it, unfolding the pages as he silently read its contents. When he had finished reading it, he lifted his eyes to hers.

“What is your name, child?” His tone was curt, and she immediately rankled at being called a child when just moments ago she had his attention as a woman. What had Uncle Ben written in his letter to change this man’s attitude toward her?

“I’m not a child,” she said. “And it’s Meredith Montague.”

“Have you read this?” Tiverton lifted the letter up.

She shook her head. “No, but Uncle Ben said I was to deliver it to you. He said that you would help me find…a husband?” She prayed Uncle Ben was right about this man.

Ignoring her question, Tiverton said, “You traveled all the way from Yorkshire alone?” He glanced around behind her, as if expecting her to have a chaperone.

“Yes, I took stagecoaches and spent the night at a coaching inn last evening. I had little pin money saved up, but I am thankful you are home this evening… I have no money to stay anywhere else.”

There, she’d said it. She’d made it clear she was dependent on him. Now she had to pray he wouldn’t toss her out.

“My uncle was unable to leave you no money at all?” he asked.

“He tried, but…you see, it was a bit complicated after he died. His will only left a wish for his son to provide me with a home and money at his discretion. Harry said that I should remain at your uncle’s estate, and… Well, he demanded I be his companion if I wished to stay. Naturally, I couldn’t agree. No matter how insistent he was.”

She rubbed her arms, and Tiverton’s eyes dropped from her face to her body. She looked down to see the bruises which had started to yellow on her wrist. “He then refused to provide me with any money at all, since it was at his discretion.”

Tiverton scowled. She feared she had upset him. Were he and Harry close? Had she made a grave error in speaking so frankly? But it was her way to be open on most matters. She’d never learned to guard herself in conversation, as many ladies were directed to.

“Harry is a bastard,” Tiverton said, his tone abrupt. He turned around and opened the door to his home. “You will be safe with me.”

A tidal wave of relief rushed through her. She did feel safe. No matter how intense Tiverton was, he didn’t scare her, not like Harry had. But her relief was short-lived as his focus dropped to the travel case at her feet.

“I don’t suppose you have any decent evening gowns in that small travel case?”

“Only one, but it’s a bit out of fashion—”

“It will do. Come inside and change quickly. I’m off to a play that I simply cannot miss, and you shall come with me so we can discuss your situation further.” He bent down to retrieve the cane he had dropped.

Meredith gaped at him. Tiverton met her look of shock with a gentle firmness as he straightened up.

“Fear not. You have a home here, Miss Montague. It is only the details that remain to be seen.”

She let out a tight breath, her chest relaxing.

“I loved my uncle and will honor his wish to care for you and see you settled in marriage to a good man.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

He ushered her inside where an older gentleman, presumably the butler, met them at the door. Tiverton handed the man his cane.

“Your Grace?” the man inquired. “Back so soon?”

“Ahh, Chelsea, I’ve had a bit of a delay. This is Miss Meredith Montague…my new ward. She was the ward to my uncle, who I’ve just learned has died. I need to discuss certain things with Miss Montague, but cannot miss Lady Kentwell’s play, so I’ve decided to have Miss Montague accompany me. We haven’t much time. Please fetch an upstairs maid and have her help Miss Montague with her evening gown.”

“Er…yes, Your Grace.” Mr. Chelsea called out to a passing maid. “Nell, take Miss Montague upstairs to the Seaside Room. She’ll need some assistance changing. Please make haste, as she is to accompany His Grace to the play this evening.”

She glanced around the beautiful house as the maid ushered her hastily up a grand staircase.

“In here, miss.” The maid opened a door and gestured Meredith into a bedchamber room.

Meredith had but a moment to take in the lovely walls painted a rich blue like the ocean with frothing seascapes painted on the walls. It made her think of home, of the little cottage near the beach where she and her mother had lived for so many years.

Then she dropped her valise on the bed, digging hastily through its contents with the maid helping her until she found her favorite dark green evening gown. It was plain, though not unattractive, with embroidered tulips on the hem and sleeves. Nell began undoing the buttons of her evening gown while Meredith unfastened the front laces of her day gown. Soon, Meredith was wearing her evening gown and her travel boots had been replaced with slippers. The maid assisted her with her evening gloves, but when they looked at her hair in the mirror, she winced.

“Not much I can do if you’re in a hurry, miss.”

“I know, but it will be all right for tonight. Thank you ever so much, Nell.”

The maid dipped into a light curtsy. “Yes, miss.”

Meredith followed the maid back downstairs, her reticule in her hands. Tiverton watched her approach, and she swore his eyes darkened into a midnight blue with interest.

“Right…well, let’s be off. My friend, Kit Hollingsworth, the Earl of Kentwell, is waiting on us.” He offered her his arm, and Meredith gratefully accepted it. She felt a bit light-headed after having barely slept in days.

As she curled her fingers around his forearm, she felt the hard muscles beneath his coat sleeve. A flush of heat crept into her neck and face. She had never been this close to a gentleman that she didn’t know.

You mustn’t think of that. He isn’t the man you will marry. He is more like a cousin…a brother. He is family.

But he wasn’t. Not really. And a very persuasive part of her mind kept pointing out that annoying fact every time she caught a hint of the light cologne he wore.

A string of coaches waited across the street and Meredith’s eyes widened as Tiverton led her toward a group of dashing gentlemen clustered around the first coach.

“Kit, my apologies for the delay.” Tiverton addressed the man who was by far the largest and the most intimidating of the group, even though he was well dressed. So this was his friend, the Earl of Kentwell? The man looked as though he had been raised carrying boulders up the side of the mountain, not born to a life of leisure.

“It is no trouble, Darius.” The man’s eyes then slid to Meredith, who still clutched Tiverton’s sleeve.

Her mouth ran dry. Would Darius be judged by these men for having to take her along? There were no other ladies present. She knew all too well that she was a burden in most cases. Uncle Ben tried to pretend it wasn’t true, but she was used to people crossing the street to avoid her, or women gossiping behind their fans at the local dances in Burton Agnes. She was a bastard child, a woman with no determined future, and now she was hanging onto a duke’s arm like her life depended upon it.

“This is Miss Montague…my uncle’s ward,” said Tiverton. “She is now my ward, it seems. She’s just arrived from Burton Agnes in Yorkshire.”

“Your ward, you say?” Kit replied, amusement flashing in his dark brown eyes as he bowed to her. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Montague.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Kentwell.”

One of the of the others in the group spoke up. “Do we all get introductions?” he asked with a charming grin as he stepped forward.

“Yes, but not right now,” Tiverton gave a warning look at the other gentleman, who was smiling at Meredith. “We shall be late if we don’t leave it once.”

Meredith’s face was bright red as Tiverton marched her past the other men standing beside Kit, all of whom were staring at her in the most curious way. This was her fault. If she’d only come to Tiverton’s home sooner, she might have been allowed time to explain herself and rest at his home, rather than be paraded out like this before a half dozen gentlemen, creating only more questions for her host.

“This is my coach.” Tiverton opened the door and slid her hand into his as he assisted her inside. She took the seat facing the front and he sat opposite her. A footman closed the door. The coach interior was lit with heavy glass lamps, casting gold light onto the dark blue velvet cushions, each of which were embroidered with a gold crest bearing a “T” for Tiverton.

Uncle Ben had had a lovely coach, but nothing as fine is this. Meredith was not used to being in the presence of such wealth, but the seat and cushioned back felt like heaven after five days in rattling stagecoaches.

“Now…we have a little time to talk. Tell me about my uncle’s death and yourself. It is best to start the beginning.”

* * *

Darius St. John watched the woman sitting across from him closely. Her gloved fingers twisted in the reticule she held on her lap. He could not fault her for the show of nerves. She’d been through a harrowing experience and he’d given her no time to settle down or rest.

The news of uncle’s death was a terrible shock to him, and it had for the moment taken control over his thoughts and he needed answers. Why hadn’t he received any news of his uncle’s illness earlier? He waited for her to speak and was glad to see steel in her hazel eyes. She’d been through much, but the experience hadn’t broken her. Good.

“As I understand it, your uncle was in love with my mother many years ago before I was born, but she chose another, one who did not actually marry her, but instead kept her as his mistress. Your uncle then married another.”

“Harry’s mother,” Darius said, nodding. “She was a good woman, although I did not know her well as she died when I was but a lad.” He hadn’t known about Uncle Ben’s first love, but then, his uncle had always been reserved about his life.

“My father left my mother and I when I was four returned to his wife and within a year he died. My mother was desperate after he left us. She sought refuge with your uncle. He purchased a cottage by the sea and paid for our keep until my mother died when I was fourteen.”

“I am sorry about your mother,” Darius added quietly. He had lost his own mother young and the loss of a mother left deep scars that never fully healed. “I believe I remember Uncle Ben mentioning you… now that I think about it. I would have met you if I’d only bothered to visit him at Burton Agnes.” His heart was heavy with a thousand regrets. He cleared his throat. “And after your mother died?”

Meredith sighed, her gaze drifting briefly away from his face as she glanced out into the darkening night through the window curtains.

“I loved my mother, but it was a relief to come live with Uncle Ben. He welcomed me into his home in a way that I never felt while I was living with my mother.”

Knowing his uncle, the man had doted on Meredith. He had a truly kind heart and a great love of company, despite his own quiet manners.

Darius leaned forward slightly. “When did my Uncle fall ill?”

“It was about two months ago.”

“Why didn’t he write to me?” Darius asked her.

“He didn’t believe he was that ill. We simply thought he had a cold, but then it suddenly turned into a steep decline in his condition. The doctors were not entirely sure what made him so unwell, but he passed peacefully five nights ago.” Meredith seemed to debate her next words carefully. “Mrs. Todd, Uncle Ben’s housekeeper, helped me pack and leave just after Uncle Ben passed away. She didn’t want me to stay in the house with Harry, though it would mean missing Uncle Ben’s funeral.”

“It would have been a very bad idea for you to stay, given what you’ve told me of that cad of a son of his,” Darius finished for her. “So you traveled here at once.”

“Yes. I slept little and stayed on the same coach for four days until last night, when I was too exhausted to keep moving. I had enough money for room and board, but left for London at first light, which brings me here and my rather abrupt appearance at your door. I must apologize for any inconvenience my arrival has caused you.”

“You are not an inconvenience,” he replied softly.

She had traveled for four days without sleep? Darius inwardly cursed. Had he known, he would have let her sleep in his home rather than dragging her to the play tonight. She was doing a fine job of hiding her fatigue, but he could see the weariness in her hazel eyes. And now…thanks to Uncle Ben, she was his responsibility. He didn’t hate the responsibility…but he didn’t like the limitations. Meredith was the sort of woman that he wanted to pull onto his lap and curl his arms around her as he kissed her and soothed her worries away with compassion and then passion. And he could not do that because seducing one’s ward was… even beyond the bounds of propriety.

He took stock of the woman again. Her golden brown hair was a bit unkept, but that was from travel and not inattentiveness. She would be lovely indeed once she was properly dressed and her hair tamed with a brush. Her current gown was not only plain but also tight-fitting. The woman possessed a wealth of bosom that threatened to pop out of the bodice. It was damnably distracting. He appreciated breasts the same as any hot-blooded man, but something about Meredith’s bosom proved more tempting than it should. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up no better than his blasted cousin Harry.

“I must apologize, Miss Montague. Had I been more knowledgeable about the circumstances behind your arrival, I would have insisted that you stay at my home and rest rather than accompany me. Have you eaten today?”

“I had a light breakfast this morning and a bit of cheese around midday.” She glanced away, embarrassed, but Darius was the one ashamed. He was not proving to be a very good guardian for this woman.

“I’m sorry. I’m not usually such a wretched host.” He sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “It’s only that…” He hesitated. He could not unburden his soul to this poor woman.

“Only what?” Damned if those soft hazel eyes of hers didn’t send him reeling. She was exquisitely beautiful in a quiet, regal sort of way that held him in fascination. Timeless…that was the word. She was a timeless beauty that would have caught a man’s admiration in any era. Yet she was here in this moment with him, and he had to remind himself that she was now his ward, and a gentleman didn’t seduce his ward. He cleared his throat as he remembered he hadn’t answered her question.

“It’s my friend Kit…” he began. “He’s been gone a very long time. Seven years, in fact. He’s only now just returned. His new wife, Suzannah, has painted the sets for the play we will see tonight on Drury Lane, and I wanted everything to be perfect. It’s important to Kit, and what is important to my friend is important to me.” He was rambling now. He, the cool, collected Duke of Tiverton, had found himself flustered and nervous like a silly schoolboy. “And now with Uncle Ben…I am not myself this evening and for that I deeply apologize for any rudeness I’ve shown.”

“I understand, Your Grace. Friendships matter a great deal. I had only one friend growing up, a girl named Celina. When her family learned I was not Uncle Ben’s child, I was deemed an unfit companion. I’ve had no deep friendships since. You must cherish and protect those you have.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Grief wounds the heart in ways we can never prepare ourselves for. You mustn’t fault yourself for anything done in a state of grief, certainly not on my account.”

Darius could not deny the pain in Meredith’s eyes and scrambled to put her at ease. “I shall introduce you to Suzannah this evening. She is wonderful and I believe she will not hold the circumstances of your birth against you. You will need suitable friendships and hers will be an excellent start.”

“I would like to meet her.” She paused and then with a blush she asked. “And what of the gentlemen that surrounded Lord Kentwell this evening? Are there any among them who I could look to for a possible match?”