Page 1 of The Duke of Deceit

Chapter One

August 1817

London

Lucien Grenier, Dukeof Crewe, leaned back against the squabs of his town coach and smiled at the pretty young prostitute sitting across from him.

What was her name? He couldn’t quite remember…Lavinia? Loretta? Lucretia? Surely, it began with an L.

But then, there was no reason why she, of all the prostitutes employed at Madame Pierre’s brothel, should stand out enough for him to remember her name, especially when the women there were used to answering to any name the male customers called out.

“Thank you,” she said again for the tenth time since he’d helped her into the carriage and told the coachman to take them to Covent Garden.

“You’re quite welcome…Lucille.”Thatwas it. He was glad he’d remembered when she showed her appreciation of that little thoughtfulness with a small smile of her own. She had a long, sleepless night ahead of her, and riding in the coach with him to the opera would only be the beginning, if he had his way.

But then, when it came to women, Lucien always got his way.

“Why do it?”

He shrugged at her soft question. “Madame’s was on my way to the opera. Picking you up there wasn’t a difficulty at all.” Neither was paying Madame Pierre for the missed income Lucille would have generated tonight with the other gentlemen who frequented the brothel. It was the only way Lucien had been allowed to leave with her. Yet he was used to paying Madame for access to the women who worked for her in the old townhouse on the good side of St Giles—if there was such a thing as agoodside to that God forsaken patch of earth.

“No.” She leaned forward, and her pretty face grew serious. “I mean the other. You’re at the brothel several times a week, but you never…you know…with any of us.”

You know.Although she’d been a prostitute for the past two years, she was still innocent in so many ways.

“Instead, you bring all those books and spend time reading to us.”

“And making you read to me, don’t forget,” he corrected. Which was the real reason he spent so much time at Madame Pierre’s. He wanted to teach the ladies to read and write in hopes that, at the very least, the gentlemen who frequented the brothel couldn’t so easily take advantage of them. At most, he hoped they might find other avenues for making their way in the world.

“Yes. That. Why?”

He arched a brow. “Why spend hours in close contact with scantily clad, beautiful ladies stretched out next to me in bed?”In bedbecause Madame felt no need to spend money on unnecessary furniture like chairs and insisted he pay for the rental of the bedroom, regardless of what went on there. Or didn’t. “I’d have to be a fool to pass that up.” When she began to argue, he interjected, “You don’t like the books? You don’t like learning to read?”

“I do, truly.” She bit her bottom lip. “I just can’t figure out why you want to do that with us.”

“Some men like whips and being tied up. I like books.” He shrugged and lowered his voice. “Books are much more dangerous.”

She cast an assessing glance over him and muttered, “You’re an odd man.”

More than you realize.“You should stay on with your family in York,” he told her, switching topics as the coach stopped in front of the opera house. Her family had sent word that her father had suffered a terrible accident and that she was needed at home. But she hadn’t any way to travel north until Lucien discovered her situation and offered to help her. More, he hoped she’d take this chance to start a new life. “There’s no reason for any of them to know what you’ve been doing in London. You can read now. They’ll believe you worked in a shop or in a mill.”

She nodded, wide-eyed, as if the idea had never occurred to her before.

“I’ll make certain any belongings you’ve left behind at Madame’s are sent up to you there. You don’t have to return to London if you don’t want to.” He prayed that once she was back with her family in the north she’d stay there. If God held any mercy whatsoever, Lucien would never see her again.

“Thank you.” Her voice was rough with emotion. She paused. Then, seeming to come to a decision, she rushed out, “I don’t have any money to repay your kindness, but we can…you know.”

Lucien fought back a smile.

“You’ll enjoy it, I promise. The other men all pay good blunt for time with me.”

“I’m sure they do.” He shoved open the door as wide as possible so everyone standing in front of the grand building could see straight into his coach and notice that the Duke of Crewe wasn’t alone. “But it’s enough payment just to have people see you in the carriage with me. After all, I wouldn’t wantanyone to think I couldn’t find a companion for the theatre.” He winked at her. “Or at least for the ride to it.”

“You’re a good man, Lucien.”

“Good?”He scowled in exaggeration. “How dare you say such an awful thing about me!”

Then he swung down to the street. He shut the door behind him and stepped forward to speak to his coachman.