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CHAPTERONE
Some men considered themselves honorable, brave, perhaps even kind… Ace was none of those men.
He was a spy.
The label wasn’t entirely accurate. Far worse than just a spy, he could add imposter to his list of transgressions. Criminally so.
Liar. Most definitely. He could hardly keep track of them all.
Bastard. His father, the Earl of Easton, had sired Ace with his mistress.
Murderer, a definite possibility. He’d fired too many shots to count.
Was there a crime he hadn’t committed? He rubbed the dark stubble on his chin as he considered.
He hadn’t stolen from the crown.
And piracy…he’d not pillaged any boats at sea. That meant he wasn’t entirely bad, was he?
The crimes he had committed, he’d done them all to protect his family. That had to count for something didn’t it?
But needless to say, he didn’t count himself among the good men. The ones who woke up and made the right choices, and deserved shiny futures and happily-ever-afters. Not that he believed anyone got that. But some people were content enough with their lives.
The most Ace could hope for was that he’d be able to secure his siblings’ futures, all six of them, before he died or rotted in prison.
Caring for his siblings would be enough to consider his existence worth living. He didn’t need marriage and who wanted to populate the world with more children anyhow? He had enough people to provide for as it was. He’d take care of them all somehow…
But the task proved rather difficult.
He sighed as a rush of dancers swirled by, their merry laughter at odds with his current mood.
It was a ball. Clearly, he was the one who was out of step. Literally. Standing against the wall brooding was not in keeping with the general air of merriment.
But he’d only come because his brothers had asked him too. As the oldest of the Smith brood, and the one who’d falsified family documents to make himself a lord of the realm, a hanging offense if he was caught, he’d come here on behalf of his family. His task, to convince a duke and a baron to become partners in his family’s gaming hell, Hell’s Corner.
He let out a growling noise of irritation, even thinking about that damnable club.
Hell’s Corner had made his life infinitely more complicated. The damn place was supposed to have been a solution. Not another headache.
“How do you make that noise?” a soft voice asked to his right. High and feminine the sound skittered over his skin like a shiver.
When had he ever reacted like that to the sound of a woman’s voice? It was odd and entirely unwanted. The last thing he needed in his life was another complication.
He pushed off the wall, determined not even to look at the woman whose voice had managed to cause such havoc. He turned and started moving away.
“Apologies,” her breathy reply stopped his feet again. “I didn’t mean to offend.”
He let out a rumbling protest because he knew he’d been rude, and some decency deep within him demanded that he behave with a bit of social grace, even as his feet executed a sharp rotation back toward the female in question.
He didn’t wish to see her.
He had no room in his life for any more problems and women, especially the type who would be at this party, rich and aristocratic, were always trouble.
But as he turned, he momentarily forgot his hesitation as his gaze met with wide, warm brown eyes fringed with dark lashes.
A pert little nose, full pink lips, and a pile of brown hair atop her head rounded out the vulnerable beauty that had stopped to speak with him.
“You did not offend,” he answered, pulling his spine straighter and reminding himself that her company was unwelcome. “I simply don’t wish for idle conversation. Hence why I was standing alone.”
