The door opened immediately, and one of the employees stepped into the room.
“Take Cassie to the blue room,” Hudson instructed. “Make sure she’s comfortable. And stay with her until I send for you.”
Cassie went without argument, rubbing at her eyes with her sleeve as she was led out. At the doorway, she paused and looked back at Augusta.
“Thank you,” she said, the words barely audible.
Then she was gone, the door closing softly behind her.
Hudson stood perfectly still for a moment, his eyes on the closed door. When he turned back to Augusta, the controlled mask had slipped back into place, but something in his expression had changed—a new awareness, a reassessment.
“You didn’t leave,” he remarked.
Augusta met his gaze steadily. “The girl needed someone to see her,” she said simply.
Hudson’s eyes held hers for a long moment. Then he crossed to the door, and turned the key in the lock with a decisive click. When he faced her again, his eyes met hers head-on.
Her throat was suddenly dry, and her heart was thumping inside her chest. Yet, there was a warmth spreading through her stomach. One she did not quite understand.
“I believe,” he declared, “we have matters to discuss.” He stood with his shoulders squared, his expression open, and Augusta found herself mirroring his posture without meaning to. “My name is Hudson Rivers. I am the Duke of Oakhart.”
“You’re a duke,” she said slowly.
What on earth was a duke doing in a gaming hell?
“I am,” Hudson confirmed. “And the auction tonight—the one where you were the prize—was not what it appeared to be.” He paused, his eyes steady on hers. “The man who placed the winning bid is my employee. He was a plant.”
“Why?” she asked, the single word carrying the weight of all her confusion.
Hudson’s mouth curved slightly. “Because the auction has been going on for many years, and the only way to stop it is to pretend it is still happening,” he replied. “The women who pass through it aren’t sold as property. I… We… try to give them an opportunity. Freedom.”
He held out a ticket to her. “This could be yours. A ticket. To America. To safety. But…” He leaned forward then, bracing his hands on the edge of the desk. “I have a different proposal. Aposition in my household, as governess to my sister. You would be safe, housed, paid, and entirely invisible to the ton. If you want additional security, we can give you a false surname.”
Augusta didn’t reach for the ticket. She stood perfectly still, her arms folded, her eyes steady on his face.
No. It had to be a trap.
Her eyes scanned the words on the ticket, then flicked back up to him.
When she saw no trickery in his eyes, relief flooded through her. She was not going to be married off to a man who would be cruel to her. She was not going to be some man’s property.
She was?—
Her heart suddenly skipped a beat. She was going to spend more time in this man’s home if she accepted his proposal.
Suddenly, her heart was racing with reasons that had nothing to do with fear.
“And Reverend Leighton?” she asked.
Hudson’s expression didn’t change. “The good reverend seemed very eager to be rid of you,” he said. “I doubt he cares where you end up, so long as you’re no longer his responsibility.”
It made terrible sense. Reverend Leighton made it abundantly clear that her presence was a burden after her father was arrested for murder.
Hudson met her gaze without flinching. “Ask me whatever you like,” he offered. “I’ll answer honestly.”
“Why run the auction at all, if your intention is to rescue the women who pass through it?”
“Because shutting it down would put the women at greater risk,” he replied. “The men who come to the Nightingale expecting to purchase a bride would simply go elsewhere. To establishments with fewer scruples and more desperate circumstances. This way, I can control who wins, what happens to the women, and ensure they have choices.”
