When The Marquess Fell Under Her Spell (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Read online

  “I merely wanted to let you know my plans,” she said airily as she made her way to the door. “That is what married couples do, after all.”

  He didn’t respond. But Letitia could feel the weight of his stare as she left. She felt no remorse for her words, though she knew it struck him as harsh. As was growing custom with them, there was little she cared about at this point.

  Only the future of her children held her attention.

  * * *

  Amelia was murmuring words under her breath. They had no rhyme or reason, and as soon as she said them, she forgot what they were. But they served to calm her as their stolen carriage brought them closer and closer to the gambling hall. As Ambrose stated, the streets of London were much busier than they were the previous weeks, marking the beginning of London Season.

  And the spike of their swindling career.

  Ambrose was silent next to her. She didn’t look at him at all as they drew closer, but the overwhelming urge to ask about her share of the money once more overtook her. She held it back, knowing that he would only get annoyed at her if she kept asking.

  But being this nervous and not being able to see the result of her work kept the question stark in her mind.

  He says I’ll get it at the end of the month. I don’t need to worry about that right now. I only need to focus on doing this job well.

  At long last, they pulled up close to the gambling hall. She could see gentlemen leaving and entering, some hopeful and others dejected. Many were drunk and she wondered if she should take the risk of getting one of them to approach her. She could never tell how a drunk gentleman would react to a crying lady. They might take advantage of her, or they might give her every penny they owned.

  “Are you ready?” Ambrose asked her.

  She nodded. She schooled her features, not wanting him to know that she was nervous. “I was born for this,” she said to him.

  He grinned from ear to ear. “Wonderful. There has been a change in the plan, however.”

  She looked at him sharply. “A change?”

  “There is a specific gentleman I need you to target. The Duke of Hilburn has been winning big at faro lately so he will be a perfect target.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, waiting for him to finish. When he said nothing else, her guard went up. “What else?”

  Ambrose’s bushy brows dipped. She knew he wasn’t surprised that she could sense there was something else. They’d known each other for a while and though Ambrose was a secretive man, there was only so much he could hide from her. “He has a bachelor pad here in London. I need you to seduce him enough for him to take you there.”

  “What?” she gasped. “Are you out of your mind? I cannot possibly do that!”

  “You don’t need to worry,” Ambrose said quickly, placing his hand on her shoulder to calm her down. It did very little. “You don’t need to do anything improper, I assure you. All you have to do is get him to bring you to the location and when he is not looking, you put this in his drink.”

  He held up a tiny sachet filled with powder. Slowly, he put it in her hand. “What is this?” she asked, frowning at it. “You can’t…you can’t possibly ask me to kill him.”

  He shook his head. “It isn’t poison, Amelia. It will merely put him to sleep for a few hours while we make off with his valuables.”

  She looked down at the white powder, unease filling her. This was so much more than she had expected to do. Crying fake tears to take advantage of gentlemen’s chivalry was easy enough. Seducing a Duke to be brought back to his pad as a potential mistress before drugging him was something she’d never thought she’d have to do.

  “The Duke is extremely wealthy,” Ambrose went on, his voice spiking with excitement. “Perhaps one of the wealthiest gentlemen in England. His successful streak at the gambling house is only going to make us even richer. Can’t you see? It’s perfect!”

  “If I do it correctly,” she murmured.

  “Yes, if you do. And I have no doubt that you will. You have a lovely face, Amelia, and a wonderful figure. He’ll take one look at you and insist that you come with him. I reckon you won’t even have to say a word to him.”

  She wished it would be that easy but Amelia sincerely doubted it.

  “How does he look?”

  “He’s of fair height with black hair and a thick moustache. He also has a bit of a tummy. You won’t be able to miss him.”

  She looked up at Ambrose. “When we rob him, I want my share of the cut. I’m not waiting for the end of the month.”

  Ambrose only waved his hand dismissively. She didn’t know if he was being impatient or if he was getting annoyed. Both, perhaps? “Yes, yes. You may have your share. Now, hurry along. We wouldn’t want to miss him.”

  She steeled her nerves, bolstered by Ambrose’s promise to pay her when this was all over. She needed the thought of money to push her forward and as she stepped out of the carriage into the chill of the night, she hoped she wouldn’t have to do anything untoward tonight.

  She picked up her chin as she walked, keeping to the shadows. There weren’t many people by the alleyway she found herself in so she stayed here to await the Duke’s exit.

  I can do this. I am the lovely Lady Jane Alston with the ability to charm anyone in her midst. I can do anything that I set my mind to.

  The chill of the night wracked her body but she kept still, holding her hands before her like the lady she had learned to be. She kept her eyes on the door, her heartbeat spiking whenever she saw someone who looked a little like the Duke of Hilburn.

  At long last, he exited the gambling hall. He was staggering a bit so Amelia could instantly tell that he was a little drunk. She tensed at the sight and prepared herself for what she needed to do.

  Once he was within range, she began the theatrics.

  The sobs she was faking brought her to real tears and she dapped delicately at her eyes with her fingertips. It helped not to have handkerchief on hand to help prove the story she was about to spin.

  The moment the Duke noticed her was also crucial. She wanted to be bathed in a swath of semi-darkness, the shadows casted on her face portraying the lonely damsel-in-distress. Even though Ambrose never told her this, she always liked to believe that, being a part from the main street, made them more drawn to her and her tears, eager to mingle with the mystery whether they realized it or not.

  The Duke of Hilburn was an easy victim. His eyes darted up to her the moment she started crying and his brows dipped into a frown. Amelia pretended not to see him, though she kept him within her peripherals. Alarmed, he approached her.

  “Are you all right, Miss?” he asked with genuine worry.

  Amelia looked at him in fake surprise. “Oh, I’m….I’m so sorry, you frightened me. I just…don’t know what to do.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, drawing closer. She could tell he wasn’t just worried anymore. Now, he was taking a good look at her, noticing that she wasn’t just a lady in trouble, but one that was particularly good looking at that.

  Amelia wiped the tears off her cheek, visibly mustering herself up for what she was about to say next. “I am new to London and I thought it would be nice to go on a carriage ride. But before I knew it, a few hoodlums robbed me and took my carriage and all my belongings with them. Oh, I just don’t know what to do now!”

  Her breakdown got him back into action. He bridged the space between them instantly and Amelia wondered if he would have put his arms around her in comfort had they been alone. But since they weren’t, he only asked, “Did they hurt you?”

  “They didn’t hurt me physically,” she said, sniffling just a little. “I’m quite shaken.”

  “Oh, heavens, you must feel just awful, my dear.” Amelia tried not to cringe at the term of endearment. “We must have a physician look at you to ensure you aren’t in shock.”

  “Here?” she asked in wide-eyed astonishment.

  “Oh, heavens, no,” the Duke said. “I have a pla
ce not very far from here. Why don’t I take you there and we call a physician to look at you?”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course, of course. Your well-being comes first, my dear. Once we find that you are fine, we can look about helping you with your missing things.”

  Amelia nodded and gave him a fleeting, hopeful smile. The Duke took that as encouragement and his hand brushed her elbow as he began to steer her in the direction of his carriage. She didn’t have to look to know that Ambrose was somewhere watching.

  She kept up the act, her hand shaking just a little to show him that she was still upset by what had supposedly happened. She let out a low breath once she was settled in the carriage and the Duke rested a hand on her knee. Amelia gave him a small smile.

  The hand didn’t stay there for any longer than a moment and she said nothing to him as they set out. Throughout the ride however, she could feel his gaze on her and she pretended not to notice, staring out the window instead. At times, she would make sure that she looked a little distressed, allowing a single tear to escape before she quickly wiped it away as she tried her best to stay strong.

  It was easy to act. It wasn’t as easy to pretend she wasn’t nervous for what she had to do next. She would be alone with him, with no one around to call for help. Not to mention the fact that she would have to drug him soon, which would take much more out of her than she expected. But she had no choice. She had to make money somehow, and she couldn’t deny that it wasn’t a bad plan.

  Thankfully, the ride to his pad wasn’t very long. They were there in no time, and Amelia steeled herself for what she was about to do and say. The Duke held his hand to her as he helped her out of the carriage, handling her like she was a fragile thing. She allowed it, though she made sure her smile was much stronger.

  The street they were on wasn’t the most populated, a few lampposts were spread throughout. She wondered briefly if he chose the location on purpose, since she doubted it would be easy for anyone passing by to see who was entering with him. But by the time they were inside, she forgot all about it.

  It was as lavish as she hoped it would be and she tried not to gasp in awe. She’d never frequented the homes of Dukes before, whether they be bachelor pads or not, and she was happy to see that this one did not disappoint, dripping from ceiling to floor with luxury furniture and accessories.

  “Come,” he said invitingly. “Rest your feet while I fetch the physician.”

  “I don’t think that will be necessary anymore,” she said. “Perhaps it’s your kindness but I’m feeling much better now.”

  The Duke’s grin was slow and victorious. His eyes seemed to grow dark, his tone filling with seduction when he said, “Ah, that’s perfect then.”

  Amelia smiled back. She batted her eyes at him, trying to come off as coy and a little shy. She hoped it worked. “Would you like me to pour you a drink?” she asked, pointing a finger at the bar in the corner of the room.

  “How kind of you to offer,” he said, still grinning broadly. “Thank you.”

  She made her way over to the bar as he got settled in on the couch. Once again, she could feel his eyes following her every move and she ignored the chill that went down her spine. She was sure that, to him, everything must be falling into place perfectly. She guessed he was probably thinking that he had a lady alone in his pad filled with gratitude for his kindness, so it would be nothing for him to get her in his bed.

  He didn’t know what was coming to him.

  She poured the drinks quickly, keeping it simple. He had brandy, so she poured those with ice, hoping that the ice would help mask whatever taste the powder had, if any. Without stopping to give it another thought, she quickly pulled the sachet out and dumped all of it into his glass before turning to him with a soft smile.

  The Duke didn’t try to look away when she faced him. His gaze was on her figure, running up and down her body before coming to meet her eyes and smiling. “Thank you,” he murmured to her as he accepted the glass.

  She didn’t say anything, only kept on smiling because, at this point, that was all she could stomach doing. She chose to sit beside him and tried not to wince when he shifted closer to her. He took a deep gulp of the brandy and then set it down on the table before them.

  “I must say, when I saw you standing by the side of the street, I thought the worst may have happened.”

  “The worst?” she enquired, trying not to glance at his brandy.

  When will it begin to work?

  “Much worse than a few stolen things. I’ll be able to help you with that just fine. I’ll be able to help you with a lot of things, actually.”

  “Oh, really?” she asked, her voice lightening with question. But she didn’t miss the lustful look in his eyes, nor the way he glanced at her lips.

  “How would you say…” he trailed off, frowning just a little. Amelia watched as he blinked a few times as if trying to clear his vision before beginning again, “How would you…”

  He didn’t get the chance to finish. Amelia was happy that the powder was fast acting because his eyelids began to drift close, his body sagging against the couch. She didn’t move, didn’t so much as smile in relief, because he was staring at her, trying to frown but not having enough strength to.

  At long last, he fell asleep. And Amelia got into action.

  Chapter Four

  Ambrose must have followed them to the bachelor’s pad because the moment she was out with her arms filled, the carriage pulled up. She wasted no time getting inside and dumping the Duke’s belongings and money onto the seat between them.

  “Oh, my goodness!” Amelia exclaimed with a flush over her cheeks. “That went perfectly!”

  “As I said it would, didn’t I?” Ambrose’s eyes were already glittering with interest as he picked up the satchel the Duke carried. Amelia already knew it was filled with his winnings from the gambling hall.

  “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” she asked as she watched him behold the stolen money and goods. She hadn’t just grabbed his satchel, but a few other expensive-looking trinkets around the pad as well as jewelry pieces off his person. She wasn’t as good at appraising items as Ambrose was, but she didn’t have to wonder if they would be worth a lot.

  “You hit the mother lode with this one, Amelia,” Ambrose praised. His quick fingers went through the items she had brought with her. “This might be one of our biggest ones yet.”

  “And I get to take half! Oh, goodness, this is so exciting.”

  Ambrose mumbled something under his breath, but Amelia wasn’t listening. She was too busy thinking of all the ways she could spend her newfound riches. It wouldn’t last very long, especially since she was only getting half, but she would finally get a taste of the life she’d always wanted to live. Poverty was something she knew very well. Being well off wasn’t.

  The bump of the carriage helped her mind to drift far away. She was dreaming of beautiful manors, ones she could never afford but couldn’t help picturing herself in. She never really cared to be anything like the lady she pretended to be. She merely wanted to escape the clawing hand of hardship, knowing how it had dealt with her parents when she was younger.

  Her parents both contracted influenza when she was only ten-and-six years, and neither of them survived. She didn’t know whether to blame it on their lack of funds to pay for a decent physician, or merely their bad fate. At this point, she was done trying to blame anyone—or anything—for it. In the end, she had been left all alone, with no family and no money to help her.

  That was what had driven her to near death in the alleyway of London slums before Ambrose found her. She wondered if all those bad times, her parents’ deaths and her subsequent poverty, lead up to this moment. Where she felt delirious with success at the robbery they had just pulled off.

  “If we continue at this rate,” she said excitedly. “We’ll be rich in no time. With the Season here, there are so many foolish men that’ll be easily tricked into helpin
g me around. I doubt I’ll be able to do that again, however. At least, not easily. He’ll know I did something when he wakes up.”

  “Yes, he will,” Ambrose mumbled. Amelia paid it no mind.

  He is simply too busy doing the numbers in his mind.

  She watched him as he studied a tiny vase she had swiped from a stand in the Duke’s bachelor’s pad. “How much do you think that’s worth?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  Ambrose tucked the vase to the other side of him, away from Amelia. He gave her a sardonic smile and said, “You don’t need to worry about what this is worth. An urchin like you won’t know what to do with this sort of money anyhow.”

  “Pardon?”

  Surely, I didn’t hear that right.