One Dance with a Duke (Stud Club #1)

He could only pray Ashworth or Bellamy had succeeded where he’d failed.

He passed the stables on his way to the house. He was almost afraid to turn his head as he walked past the small, humble horse barn—but he made himself do so, wondering if he would see either of the other men’s horses returned. He didn’t. But what he did see chilled his blood.

Captain was missing. Amelia’s steady gelding, gone. He’d been tied near the barn entrance, and with the moon so bright, Spencer ought to have been able to glimpse his gray coat from here. Nothing.

His legs—or rather, the numb, wooden stumps currently occupying his boots—quickly pumped to life, propelling him toward the barn. He rushed inside, looking frantically from stall to stall. No Captain to be found. Oh, Christ. She barely knew how to hold the reins. Surely she hadn’t dared to take the horse out herself. With her inexperience and these conditions, to do so would have been an invitation to disaster.

His breath came quick and panicked now, and with every inhalation pain stabbed his side. He pressed an arm to his ribs, wondering if he’d broken just one, as he’d initially thought, or several. Wincing in pain, he half ran, half stumbled out of the barn and toward the cottage. The windows were dark, save a faint light from the library window. He moved toward it, drawn by that warm glow that seemed the embodiment of hope itself. Leaving the paved walk, he headed straight for the window and peered inside.

There she was. Seated in a chair by the wall of bookshelves, a sheaf of papers in her hand. Alone.

Gratitude swept the last bit of strength from his knees. He propped a hand on the wall for support, sucking in a lungful of air and relief. If he’d lost her, he couldn’t have borne it.

Well, she might be lost to him yet, after tonight. And God only knew where Claudia was right now. But he stood there for a moment, gazing through the window glass at her pale, lovely profile and trying to imagine he wouldn’t emerge from this night a complete failure at protecting everyone and everything he’d ever loved.

He went to the door and found it unlatched. Within seconds he stood in the entry of the library. His jaw worked a few times, sliding his thirst-thickened tongue over a tooth that had jarred loose. He couldn’t think of a word to say.

“She’s here.” With shaking fingers, Amelia swept the papers aside. “Sleeping upstairs. She is safe.”

Relief flooded his lungs, until his chest ached with it. Still, he couldn’t find words. So he crossed the room, knelt before his wife, laid his head in her lap, and wept.

“Oh, Spencer.” Her fingers smoothed the hair from his brow. “Lord, you smell of death. And you’re all scratched and bruised. What’s happened to you?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, curling one arm around her legs. “Captain is gone from the barn. When I saw it, I thought perhaps you’d …” He clutched her tighter, feeling that moment of black terror more keenly than before. “God, Amelia. You must promise to never leave me.”

Her fingers stilled in his hair. His heartbeat scudded to a stop, as well.

“I have news,” she said at length. “It will be difficult for you to hear.”

He wanted to keep his face buried in her skirts out of sheer cowardice, but he forced himself to sit back on his heels, rub his bleary eyes clear with one hand, and face this “news” like a man.

She pressed her lips together, hesitating. “There is no easy way to say this.”

“Then say it straight out.” He propped his arms on either side of her skirt, bracing himself for the worst.

“Claudia is with child.”

“Claudia. Claudia, with child?” Emotion struck him in the chest. Several emotions, as a matter of fact, hitting him one after the other in quick succession, like a series of punishing blows: shock, disbelief, sorrow, guilt. Fury. A dozen questions tumbled in his mind, but only one really mattered. “Whose?”

“Not Jack’s,” she said hastily. “It couldn’t have been. It was her music master in York.”

“I’ll kill him,” Spencer bit out.

“What good would that serve? The man doesn’t even know. And from Claudia’s own account, it seems the tutor seduced her, but she was not … unwilling.”

The mere idea of a man touching his ward sent nausea rolling through his gut. “She’s fifteen years old. A child.”

“Not any longer.” Amelia grasped one of his hands and folded it in both of hers. “She’s so frightened, Spencer. She’s known for some time, but she’s terrified of how you’ll react. Just the same, I think she meant to speak with you. Earlier.”