Two Lady Scoundrels and a Duke - Tessa Candle

Chapter 1 A Desperate Plan

Katherine shivered and forced a scrap of muslin into the crack by the small kitchen window of her cottage. It was a bit of fabric left over from one of the many dresses she possessed in her youth, before things went bad and she lost her parents. In her youth? It was but three years ago, yet everything had changed. That girl thought nothing of the cost of things in the glossy, fragile world that she took for granted. A cascade of icy spikes broke free from the awning and crashed to the ground outside. She startled—then shrugged. Everything broke, and pretty things sprayed heart-piercing shards when they did so. Some Christmas this would be.

It was a glum thought, and she scoffed in self-reproof. Such maudlin descents into self-pity did no good. If the icicles were dropping, at least that meant the air was warming up. It had been an uncharacteristically cold winter for the southern English countryside. Hopefully it would relent soon, but no matter.

The cold would not stop her from the business she had to attend to.

But could she really do it? Dog nuzzled her hand, and Katherine realized she had been staring into space. She looked down at him and patted his head. “Good lad.” It pained her to see him growing so thin. It was worse even than occasionally catching sight of her own pinched features in the bit of mirror on her decrepit toilette table. He was her only friend in the world, and she was failing him. Her resolve steeled as she scratched his long ears. “I will get us money, Dog. We shall have some food, and we will not lose our home.”

As unpleasant as it was, it had to be done. She hefted the great coat that hung warming by the few coal embers valiantly standing vigil in the grate, and swung it over her thin shoulders. It smelled of smoke and must, but that would only help with the manly illusion. With all the extra padding she had installed, no one would see her feminine frame. She covered her face with a scarf and slapped on a man’s hat.

The pair of pistols she withdrew from the cupboard by the door glittered red in the last rays of sunset. Should she load them? No. She was about to do a terrible thing, but she would not compound it by actually harming someone. Better to be caught and hanged than to injure another person—even if they be one more useless rich bastard in the endless parade of useless rich bastards. At least that was what she was hoping for: some contemptible cuffin, carrying pots of money. Surely, there would be some on their way to visit other rich friends for some Christmas house party or other. But robbers could not be choosers. A less loathsome victim would have to do, so long as he was rich.

She cleared her throat. “Stand and deliver!” Too feminine. She forced her voice into a croak. “Stand and deliver.” Better.

Dog was sniffing suspiciously at the bulky coat that disguised his mistress. She tucked her pistols into the massive pockets and gave Dog a big hug, in case it was their last. Then she fetched the last of their food, some porridge dotted with bits of fish from the cold room, and placed it on the floor for him. In case she did not come back, at least he would have enough to sustain him until someone came—probably the agent, looking for the rent. Hopefully he would take pity on Dog and adopt him or find him a new home. And yet it was a faint hope. The agent was not a good man.

She wiped her eye, but found it dry, and mused bitterly that it was, indeed, possible to run out of tears. What a discovery to make at a moment like this. Dog sniffed the food, but looked up at her. His eyes were still wet.

“Oh, my beloved friend, do not look at me so!”

The sun slipped below the horizon. Best get it over with. Katherine sighed, pulled down the sled that leaned against the wall and left the relative warmth of her cottage. “I love you, Dog.” She could not look back.

Chapter 2 A Grumbling Duke

“What miserable ruddy weather,” the Duke of Foxleigh muttered to himself and pulled a fur carriage blanket closer about him, steadying his back against the seat of the jouncing vehicle. The snow was slowing their progress considerably, and