The Duchess War (Brothers Sinister #1)

“Your Grace,” someone asked, interrupting his reverie, “if we could talk about those handbills? What was your intention with them?”


“Ah, yes,” Robert said. “It’s quite simple. I’m a duke. As such, I consider myself responsible for not just my own welfare, but that of the entire country.” He smiled, met his brother’s eyes, and leaned forward. “If we silence those who wish to speak, how can I do my job? Captain Stevens’s arrest was just the beginning.”

Now Minnie’s hands tightened around his.

“I don’t know how much I’ll achieve in my lifetime,” he said, “but this is just the beginning.”

Epilogue

Four years later.

IT MIGHT HAVE LOOKED LIKE ANY OTHER DAY to anyone else, but Robert knew better. The tension in the air was thick; a gentleman beside him clenched his fist and leaned forward. Beside him, Oliver and his father sat, looking on. Lydia and her husband were perched on chairs across the room. Lydia knew little of chess, but still she watched with her hand on her mouth. Three others made those present eight, not counting the two people in the middle of the room.

But eight was no longer enough to make Minnie nervous. Indeed, she looked to have forgotten everything. She sat at the small table that had been set up in the middle of the room, and she appeared to be the only one in the room who felt no nerves at all.

She had taken London by storm—which was to say, as with any good storm, some people stayed indoors when they saw her coming. But by and large, the people who mattered hadn’t shunned her. There had been more curiosity regarding the Duchess of Clermont than there had been ill feelings. She’d given salons—exclusive salons, limited in number—and people had come. Important people.

Gradually, she’d relaxed into the role. She still wouldn’t go to large parties; she still tried to avoid people watching her on the streets. But in settings like this… In settings like this, everyone could see her for who she really was. She was dressed in a gorgeous blue silk gown, and she didn’t seem to be put out at all, even though the man across from her had begun to sweat.

Finally, he picked up his piece. He held it in his hand and then set it down. Gustav Hernst, who had ended up as the winner of the first International Chess Tournament in London some fifteen years earlier, played his piece.

Minnie studied the board casually. She picked up a piece after a moment’s contemplation and then, with everyone watching, gave it a kiss.

Hernst shook his head and toppled his king on the board. He slumped in his chair. “You are still very good,” he said. “Too good. You should have won the last time we played.” His German accent was barely noticeable. “But I could not resist.”

Minnie stood and held out her hand. “A good game,” she said.

“An excellent game. I am glad your husband invited me. What happened all those years ago…it should never have taken place. The game should not have been stopped, most particularly not when you were about to win. It always rankled. It is my pleasure to make things right.”

At that, Minnie looked over at Robert. After all these years, the warmth he felt when looking into her eyes hadn’t faded. It had grown deeper still, familiarity lending him a knowledge of her moods. She smiled at him and held out her hand.

“Come,” she said. “There’s a little refreshment laid out in the main hall.”

But when everyone left the room, they let Oliver serve as guide. Minnie and Robert lingered behind, and once everyone had disappeared down the corridor, they opened the door across the way.

The Dowager Duchess of Clermont had refused to watch what she termed the spectacle, claiming that it was improper and foolish. But Robert had suspected an ulterior motive on her part.

And indeed, young Evan, scarcely three years old, sat on her knee, staring at the primer. “Goose!” he proclaimed happily.

“What else is G for?”

“Grandmama,” Evan said.

The woman snorted. “Flatterer. Choose another word, if you please.”

Evan frowned. “Gray,” he finally said. “You have gray hair. Did you know that?”

“Now that is calumny of the worst sort,” his mother said calmly. But her arms curled around her grandson, and she leaned in, breathing in his scent.

“Mama,” Robert said, “refreshments are being served in the main salon.”

She looked up. “Oh,” she said with a small frown. “I’m…busy.” Her head bent again, and a small smile touched her lips. “I’m very busy.”