Duke of Dishonor by Tammy Andresen (books for 9th graders .txt) 📕

father had been dead within a year of being outed as a French spy.

He left his son with the consequences of his actions and the burden of righting their family name. An endeavor he’d been working five years to correct. And he was so close.

He was fortunate that the king hadn’t stripped all his lands and holdings, but he’d taken enough.

Brandon had one property in the country, with its lands and income. Eight others had been seized by the crown, a payment for the betrayal.

That one property was their northern holdings, where he was likely expected to live out his life. King George hadn’t been specific in that regard.

But to be safe, Brandon had come to London under an assumed name, John Smith, and joined forces with a powerful merchant. A man who’d known his father before the betrayal and had offered Brandon an opportunity.

Help me restore my business and I’ll help you restore your name. That was what Lucas Carrington had said. And Brandon argued with himself, in intercepting Ewan, he’d been keeping that promise to Lucas.

But guilt still niggled at the back of his mind.

Ewan was in danger and so were the Carrington sisters.

Ewan could take care of himself. In fact, he’d travelled from Scotland to London and gone undercover, infiltrating the thieves in a way that neither Brandon nor Lucas Carrington had been able to.

But the girls…

Women, actually.

The sisters still faced an immense amount of danger. This ring of thieves swirled about their business and even their uncle had been in cahoots with the criminals. But he worried for Emily the most. Her eldest sister, Eliza, was as tough as a woman could be. The next oldest, Isabella, had just wed a duke. And then there was the youngest, Abigail, who was full of spirit. But Emily was a kinder, gentler woman than any of her sisters and it made her more vulnerable.

Even thinking her name caused an ache deep in his chest. Never had he seen a more beautiful and enchanting woman in his life. The moment he’d held her in his arms, he’d realized his mistake.

Her thick, full, brown hair was usually piled atop her head, accentuating her large, warm brown eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips.

As a man of seven and twenty years, he’d had his share of experience. He was a duke after all, even if he was an exiled one, and he knew women found him pleasing to look at.

But the first time he’d seen Emily, the air had rushed from his lungs.

Part of keeping the Carrington sisters out of trouble had been to watch them from afar. He was cold but he wasn’t cruel and so he’d kept his word and kept an eye on them as he’d promised Lucas.

Which meant he’d seen her far more often than she’d ever seen him.

He knew she was kind, caring, gracious, and…stunning.

And now he wanted a woman he couldn’t touch. Because it would bring danger to her door. Worse still, he’d taken actions that had increased that danger for her and her family. Because he had his own goals.

He didn’t like it, but he’d come too far to change his mind now. He was so close to reaching his goal and then…then perhaps he could see the sins against the Carrington sisters, against Emily, righted.

He needed to see this investigation through.

And courting a woman would endanger her, distract him, and most likely ruin his chances to clear his name.

At least that’s what he’d been telling himself for the past few months. Then, he’d held her in his arms. She’d looked up at him, her pretty pink lips parted, her eyes curious, her hands gripping him as though he were the only thing standing between her and danger and he’d…

Brandon stopped as the thief slipped into a doorway. Two knocks rang out into the dark of the night.

“Password,” a gruff voice asked.

“Crown the king,” the other man replied with a chuckle.

Brandon heard the bolt slide back, the door creak open.

He slipped past the door and Brandon moved closer. A single grimy window was next to the entrance and he ducked under it, peeking through the wavy glass.

Six men sat around a table, money piled in the middle as they counted.

He was working on the petty thieves now. He’d spent three weeks tailing the higher echelon but had yet to figure out who they reported to. They were smart and careful. He had, however, identified two lords actively involved in selling the king’s goods. He’d left Ewan to investigate them from the inside. He had moved his efforts to the small street crimes. He hoped they’d be more liable to make mistakes and lead him to whomever ran this operation.

“How much do we have for Maestro?”

Another man grunted his finger moving as he counted, then answered. “Not enough.”

Each of the men added from their own personal pile to the one in the middle. “Maestro had Malcolm done. Stabbed ‘im right in the back, all because he didn’t deliver that niece of his.”

“Well,” another said around a cigar. “Maestro was right on that account. Now that line of business has been cut off, hasn’t it?”

“Still,” another one said. “Makes a man nervous. Don’t deliver one week and—” He ran his finger across his throat.

Another leaned forward. “He’s a tough man to be certain, but we all eat thanks to him.”

A large man scratched his chin. “Think we might up our standing if we brought ‘im one of those girls.”

“I’m not touching a duke’s wife,” the one with the cigar added. “No way.”

“Agreed and not the one married to a marquess, either.”

The one who’d suggested kidnapping to begin with nodded. “Smart. But there are two who don’t got no ‘usbands. What about one of them?”

Brandon’s stomach dropped. Emily was in danger.

“Let me think on it more,” the cigar-biter answered. “In the meantime, we need to get this money to Maestro.” He pulled out a box from under the table and placed all the money in the middle then