A Knight to Dare: (The Valiant Love Regency Romance) (A Historical Romance Book) Read online

  The only thing that kept Remy from punching the fiend who’d dared grab him was seeing Cassius on the other end of the offending hand.

  There was also the look in Cassius’ hazel eyes.

  He looked worried.

  Cassius shut the door soundly behind them.

  “Is it Milly?” Remy asked. She was the only person Cassius ever showed emotion for.

  The duke turned. “What? No.” Cassius moved farther into the room and circled around the large desk before falling into his seat. “Did you come through the back door as I asked?”

  Remy moved forward and nodded. He placed his hands behind his back, squared himself, and waited for whatever assignment the duke would give him.

  “Did you see anyone?” Cassius asked.

  “Only my own men who I have stationed at the entrances.” Remy knew the routine of the house. He’d helped design the schedule to make sure there was always someone guarding Lady Milly. “I made certain my movements went undetected otherwise.”

  “Excellent.” Cassius took a breath and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I have an assignment for you.”

  “I imagine you do.”

  Cass crossed his arms and leaned over his desk. “I need you to scare someone.”

  Remy paused and thought the request over, imagining a few methods to get it done. “Who?”

  “Lady Vita Castella.”

  “You want me to scare a lady?”

  “But not terribly,” the duke added. “Just… a little scare. She’s digging her nose into places it doesn’t belong. Usually, I’d have no trouble making this problem go away, but she is in my care and will be my guest for the next year.”

  Remy lifted a brow. “You invited a noisy guest into your house?” That didn’t sound like Cassius at all.

  “Milly did. I had no choice.”

  That sounded like Cass.

  He moved farther into the room and took a seat across from the duke. “Tell me about this woman.”

  Cass looked anxious. “She’s more like a girl. Twenty.”

  Young.

  Remy crossed his arms. “Do you suspect she works for one of your enemies?”

  “No.”

  “Do you think she wishes to take your power?”

  Cassius narrowed his eyes and looked toward the window. “No, I don’t think that is what she’s after either.” He looked at Remy. “She may be innocent, however…”

  “We had an agreement,” Remy said.

  A year ago, Cass had saved a young boy who’d turned out to be Remy’s nephew. Noel had gone missing. His mother, Remy’s sister, couldn’t find him.

  Remy had hunted the countryside for him and come upon him in a barn. Noel had been caged with other boys.

  He’d tried to fight his way to his nephew, but neither his rank nor title gained him any respect.

  Remy was a big man and could have easily taken on two or three men but not ten.

  They held him back and then chose his nephew as the next fighter.

  It was clear that Noel had already fought. His body was bruised. His eye was swollen shut. The rest of his face mangled.

  They wanted Remy to watch him die.

  Cassius and his people stormed in just in time. Noel was saved, and Remy gave his sword and pistol to the duke’s service.

  But there was one rule.

  He would never hurt the innocent, not for any reason. Cassius had agreed to it, seeing it as a just goal as well.

  “I understand your feelings,” Cassius said. “Which is why I’ve asked you to do this and not another soldier. You can make certain she is only slightly frightened but not traumatized for the rest of her life. You’re a man of strategy. I’m sure you could find a way to get it done.”

  Remy sighed.

  “So, will you do it?” Cass asked.

  “Is this a request?” Remy asked. Cass didn’t usually make requests of him. Normally, Remy was told where to go and when. It didn’t bother him much. Life in the military had taught him the ease of taking direction. Once given a task, Remy saw it done.

  Cassius held his eyes. “It’s a request.”

  “I’ll not do this, and I’ll command my men to refuse you as well.”

  Cassius frowned. “Your men? Isn’t it me who pays them?”

  “We both know that every man under my command would follow me if I walked out of this room right now.” Many of the men had fought alongside Remy. They’d been under his command. They trusted him. They knew that if he asked them to jump into a fire, he would lead the charge.

  He was as faithful to them as they were to him. That was no secret.

  Cassius tapped his fingers on the desk. “It should bother me that you have so much power, but it doesn’t. No man should hold all the cards.”

  On that, Remy agreed. The leaders in Cassius’ organization all played a vital and equal role in the fight to end oppression.

  Remy stood. “The woman sounds innocent. I don’t bother the innocent.” He had morals. They’d been ingrained in him since birth. He’d already been hesitant about the assignment when Cass had told him it was a woman. He’d not frighten some young miss who was likely only curious about the Duke of Van Dero.

  Who wasn’t? Even Remy was still trying to figure out the man’s motives.

  He fought for good yet was deadly. He wished for justice but was often judge and jury in secret trials. There was a war going on in London. Remy wished he could say it was good versus evil, but in reality, it was bad versus vile.

  And to anyone who didn’t know Cassius’ ultimate plan, he could easily seem vile.

  “I have tried talking to her,” Cass said. “She refuses to tell me what’s going on.”

  Remy didn’t reply.

  “Remy.” Cass held up a hand to still him. “Wait.”

  Remy paused and fell back into his seat. “Why did you call me by my name?” The duke never called him Remy.

  “Because we are friends and it is what friends do,” Cassius said.

  Remy crossed his arms. “Is that so, Cassius?”

  “It is what Milly taught me. Using your name creates the guise of an intimate relationship between us and should make you feel as though we are kin now.”

  Remy rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you’re supposed to explain it. It’s manipulative.”

  “Is it working?” That was Cassius’ only concern.

  “In your mind, how do I scare the girl?”

  “By doing what you’re doing right now.”

  Remy frowned. “I’m not doing anything.”

  “Your eyes are slightly narrowed. It's menacing.”

  “It’s my natural expression.”

  “Precisely.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “You’re scary looking, Remy.” Cass was never one to hold back his words. “And the gash through your eye only makes it more dramatic. Milly said it makes you look like a pirate. Tell Lady Vita to leave me alone and that will be that.”

  A scar ran down Remy’s eye, starting at the brow and ending on his cheek. Thankfully, the eye itself had been saved from the blade that had done the handiwork, but people did seem to pale around Remy.

  At least until they got to know him.

  Then they went running for the hills.

  “I don’t know if that will work,” Remy said.

  “Oh, I disagree,” Cass said. “I’m quite frightened of you myself at the moment.”

  Cass feared no one.

  “Are you… jesting?” Remy asked.

  Cass’ blank expression didn’t shift an inch. “You cannot tell from where you sit, but I am literally shaking in my boots.”

  Remy sighed. “So, you are jesting. Is this going to be a habit of yours now?”

  “I might need to talk to someone about the fear I have.” Cass looked away. “I’ll never be the same.”

  Remy stood. “I get it.”

  “I have no idea how I’ll manage to sleep tonight.”

  Remy started f
or the door. “Good day, Your Grace.”

  “Talk to Belle,” Cass shouted. “She’ll arrange everything, give you a disguise. And take care to not be seen on your way out!”

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  0 3

  * * *

  Lady Vita Castella recognized Lord Dunn the moment he entered the party.

  He was all she’d heard about for a week now. At the dinners Milly forced her to attend and in the dark corners of London ballrooms, his name was whispered in darkness and mystery.

  Lord Dunn.

  He’d been described perfectly. He was bigger than most of the men she’d met. His hair was dark, as were his eyes, but it was the scar that made his chiseled face all the more striking.

  She worried her lip as she watched him.

  He moved around the room through the crowd, a head above all but a few.

  Vita swallowed.

  The quartet from another public room went silent. A new song started on the pianoforte. The banging made her jump. It was as loud as the singers who joined in and the people who shouted around her. The scents of body musk, lilies, and snuff filled the air.

  She hated parties.

  Vita was struggling to breathe, had been struggling to concentrate on the purpose of her presence until Lord Dunn’s arrival.

  She took everything about him in. His confident gait. The fact that he’d smiled at no one who greeted him. He seemed cold and even on a hot evening like this, Vita shivered.

  Why had she not heard of him until recently?

  Aside from her investigation into Lord Van Dero’s affairs, she’d become intrigued by what she’d heard. Whispers had been flowing about him all week.

  But then last evening, she’d heard Lady Milly and the duchess’ friend Lady Belle speaking about him behind a closed door.

  “He’s become Cassius’ worst enemy,” the stunning Lady Belle had said.

  “Truly?” Milly asked.

  “Oh, yes. Though quite a dark lord, he’s vowed he’d do anything to see to your husband’s end and has a plan to do it before he leaves for the Continent in two days.”

  “That sounds terrible.” A cup rattled. “Do you know of his plan?”

  “No, only that he will not be in town long and that… he claims to have discovered all Cassius’ secrets.”

  “No.” Milly gasped. “What do you plan to do?”

  “Invite him to my party tomorrow, of course,” Belle said. “I wish to discover why he’s going after Cassius. Hopefully, we can stop him before he does anything dreadful.”

  “Excellent idea, Belle. What would Cass ever do without you?”

  Vita had no choice. She had to speak to Lord Dunn and now, before he left for the Continent.

  He was likely her only hope.

  She knew very few people at the party. Belle’s circle was far from the one Vita was used to. There were middle-class and gentry present. She’d pretended injury to not have to dance. No one had openly questioned her lie, but she’d gained more than a few doubtful looks as she moved through the party without so much as a limp.

  Finally, the man she’d been waiting for had arrived.

  Now, how to get an introduction?

  She could not simply go up to him on her own, could she?

  She watched him pause to lean against a wall. Dressed in complete black, he was ominous. His gaze seemed distracted. Distant. Why come to a party if not to engage?

  How hypocritical a thought.

  Perhaps, he was also here for a specific reason.

  Part of Vita thought it better to avoid him and continue on the path she was on, yet she was getting nowhere at Van Dero’s home.

  Lord Dunn was likely her only chance to gain access to the truth.

  She started toward him.

  But a hand stopped her.

  A drunk working-class man. She’d watched him from across the room earlier as well. He was wealthy and trying to let all in the room know the fact.

  She’d kept away from him. She’d seen the way he’d flirted with women of all ranks and classes. Belle tried repeatedly to keep him in line, but he was a guest for a reason.

  She wanted him for something. She hadn’t told Vita what, but she had told Vita his name.

  Mr. Palmer.

  He was in his thirties, looked fit, and seemed to think that his looks excused his behavior. He was the reason the upper-class looked down on the men who were coming up in the world. There were those who whispered that soon the upper-class would be no more and replaced by men with ideas.

  Mr. Palmer had an idea. He was brilliant, people said, a man of science.

  Vita only thought him rude.

  How dare he touch her?

  “My lady, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.” His eyes were a pale brown. He breathed close to her face. Did he not know the proper protocol for meeting a lady?

  Perhaps, he didn’t care. “What is your name, angel?”

  She turned away for air that wasn’t tainted with snuff. His hand still gripped her arm. Nervousness made her flush. “I once had a fish named Angel. He died.”

  He frowned. “That’s terrible. How did he die?”

  “I ate him. Right out of the bowl.” She told herself to stop talking, but once she started, it was hard to stop. “He wiggled in my mouth.”

  Mr. Palmer’s eyes widened.

  “I was six.” She pressed her lips together and said no more.

  Mr. Palmer gave her the most perplexed look.

  She got that look far too often.

  “Mr. Palmer, my dear!” Belle rushed over and grabbed his wrist. “Come with me. There are more investors to meet.”

  Palmer shook her off. His gaze was still on Vita. “Belle, you have the oddest guests here.”

  Belle laughed but there was venom in her eyes. “Better odd than completely unbearable.” Belle directed her eyes at Mr. Palmer, letting Vita know who she was referring to, but that was lost on Mr. Palmer, as evidenced in his laugh of agreement.

  Vita swallowed as he was walked away and told herself to focus on why she was here. She could not mess up in front of Dunn.

  ∫ ∫ ∫

  0 4

  * * *

  Remy had sensed the moment Vita’s eyes found him. She’d been described in a fashion that matched many of London’s fairest ladies, but there was a hesitance in her gaze, which Belle had told him about.

  The girl was scared, and he hadn’t even said a word. He saw it in her locked shoulders and the way her eyes darted around the room.

  From the foyer, he could sense her curiosity, excitement, and hesitance.

  He’d struggled not to look as he shook hands and greeted the men who knew him. Barely any of the women present had met him, much less seen him. He went to very few parties and even then he usually stayed out of the way.

  He didn’t care for the great gatherings, though could see their appeal and even understood the necessity. Parties made hearts merry. A few hours of laughter and smiles could ease the pain of the day.

  At least, for some.

  He’d brought his hip flask, knew where Belle hid her best spirits, and planned to be very drunk by the end of the evening. He was off-duty for this assignment and his only requirement was to scare the girl away from Van Dero.

  It would be easy enough.

  Belle was in on the plan, as were a few others. Those who did know him in the room worked for Van Dero and had been told to call him Lord Dunn tonight.

  From the corner of his eye, he watched Lady Vita make her way toward him.

  Her blond head was down, and she focused on everything but him.

  The crowd seemed to make a path for her.

  Men stared.

  She was pretty with a bow mouth, high cheeks, and a pointed chin but nothing more than a frightened bird.

  Her eyes caught his and quickly fluttered away.

  Bluebird.

  He thought the name fitting. Her eyes were the shade of the morning flower.

  She
seemed constantly alert, ready to fly at the first sight of danger.

  Yet she continued to come toward him, and he wondered if he should count it as bravery or foolishness.

  Both would do.

  A glow caught his eye, and he spotted small hoops in her ears, hidden by her curls.

  He looked away just before she stopped at his side. Then she, too, turned and looked straight ahead.

  Moments passed and she said nothing.

  He turned his eyes her way and caught her staring.

  She gasped and looked away. Her eyes remained wide, and still, she said nothing.

  He frowned.

  Now what?

  A gentleman could not introduce himself to a lady he did not know.

  He was just about to call Belle over—he was ready to leave—when another man approached her.

  “Here. I thought you looked thirsty, my lady.” Lord Jeremy Warren handed Vita a glass of punch. The young gentleman wore a boyish grin.

  “I looked thirsty?” she asked. “Do you mean I look dry?”

  Jeremy’s eyes widened, and he pulled back. “No, Vita. I did not mean to offend.”

  She froze and then sipped the punch. “Thank you, Jeremy.” Vita looked at him and then away. Her smile was as quick as a blink. “For the punch, I thank you.”

  Jeremy blushed. “I was hoping you’d changed your mind about that dance.”

  Jeremy was a very beautiful man. He worked as a Forager for the duke, gathering secrets for later use.

  “No, my leg is still broken.”

  Broken? Remy narrowed his eyes at her skirts. He could see nothing with all the skirts but doubted anything underneath her cream-colored gown was broken. He looked away when he began to imagine what her limbs might actually look like.

  “Broken?” Jeremy frowned. “I thought you said it was just a matter of a sprained ankle.”

  She blinked. “Oh. Yes. My ankle. It’s sprained. It still... hurts.” She looked away.

  Jeremy folded his arms behind his back and rocked on his toes. He looked anxious, as though struggling to find the words to get the lady’s attention. Jeremy, who was used to having women fall at his feet— and who was rumored to have broken a few hearts— was currently losing where Vita was concerned.

  It was likely the only amusement Remy would get all night, and it was only made better by the fact that Vita had no idea the effect she was having on the men around her.