Chapter 1

Today is to be my debut—I dream of a grand love. I yearn for a grand love. I will settle for nothing less.

~Aa

London, England

S eated in the private office of one of England's most powerful peers Severin Cadogan, the Earl of Kilburn, former agent with the Home Office and current private assassin for hire, gave the understatement of his life.

"I don't play nursemaid, Your Grace."

The Duke of Argyll flashed Cadogan a genial grin.

"Ah, but I don't require a nursemaid." The duke, and also head proprietor of Forbidden Pleasures, a premier club in London, reclined in his leather armchair. "What I'm looking for is a guard. More specifically, a body guard."

"You can dress a pig in a gown; it's still going to oink, Your Grace," Cadogan said candidly. "I don't guard bodies."

What Cadogan did do was make men disappear .

"I'm well aware of your reputation." Argyll flashed another smile. "It's why I intend to hire you."

"I'm not interested in the assignment you're selling, Your Grace." In fact, he was even less interested in this particular job than the last one put to him, not long ago by this same, dogged nobleman.

"Come now, Cadogan. You haven't even heard the details of this proposal. At the very least, you can entertain me."

Cadogan inclined his head. "I'm listening."

"First, may I interest you in a brandy?" The man was already on his feet and heading for the liquor cabinet.

"No, thank you, Your Grace."

As a rule, Cadogan avoided liquor. With the other man's reputation for lacing spirits, Cadogan would sooner slit his own throat than partake in any food or drink in this gilded and marble rococo palace.

The duke's eyes glittered with the first hint of annoyance, which he swiftly masked.

"Are you certain?" the duke persisted. "The bottle I have in mind is not just any cognac. It is from the first case sent from France enjoyed by King George III after he allowed Martell Cognac an import license."

The man couldn't have been more obvious had he attempted to pry Cadogan's mouth apart and poured his fine libations down his throat.

Cadogan met that irrelevant story with silence. He didn't repeat himself for anyone.

With an irreverent shrug, Argyll poured himself a snifter and rejoined Cadogan.

The duke, his glass framed between his hands, studied him in an assessing way. "You and I, we have much in common, Cadogan."

"Oh?" he said, genuinely amused.

"You don't think so?" Argyll lifted a sardonic brow. "You and I are both men born to one station but are far more comfortable pursuing actual work. Our businesses, each in their own way, result in the demise of unsavory sorts. Neither of us suffers from the bothersome effects of having a heart."

As the lofty nobleman tossed back a long swallow, Cadogan resisted the urge to shake his head. Did the gentleman truly believe he could appeal to some imagined similitude between them? Cadogan hadn't even entered the world that na?ve.

Argyll set his drink aside. "I will get to the point. I care about my sisters. I will do anything to protect them." He locked a flinty gaze with Cadogan's. " Anything ."

Anything, that was, except , watch them himself. Then, Argyll wasn't unlike other nobles in that way.

"That's where we're different, Your Grace. Where your responsibilities include a family, mine do not." Nor would it ever. He had siblings. They shared blood, and that was about all.

Drumming his fingertips together, Argyll contemplated Cadogan. The gentleman abruptly ceased that grating tapping. " Everyone can be persuaded, Cadogan."

Such were the words of a lionized lord who'd never been told ‘no' in his entire vacuous existence.

And though Cadogan didn't fear any man, he'd built his new career on working for the most powerful lords. Therefore, when it came to rejecting a duke's assignment, Cadogan had to tread somewhat carefully.

"If it's a bodyguard you seek, Your Grace, I'd be more than happy to assign you one of the men who works for me. They're capable. They're—"

All hint of the duke's earlier good humor vanished. "It has to be you."

"Why me?" Cadogan paused. "You have seventy-five guards. Why not one of them to watch over your sisters."

The duke failed to mask his surprise.

"I see you've attained very specific information about my club," Argyll murmured. "You mustn't leave me to wonder how you ascertained those details and what else you may know?"

In other words: Did Cadogan work for the duke's former business partner—now business rival and enemy—the Duke of Craven.

"If there's something you want to ask, Your Grace," he said coolly. "I suggest you ask it."

"Very well." The duke let his hands drop to the arms of his chair. "This isn't the first time you've rejected an offer from me."

No, it wasn't. Just a fortnight ago, the duke had paid Cadogan an unexpected, morning, visit and made him a very generous proposition.

"I asked you to take over the security detail for my club in exchange for a large stake in the business and a sizeable fortune no other man in his right mind would have turned down." Through his recounting, Argyll sounded as peevish as he had the day of the rejection. "Which leaves me no choice except to ask: do you serve the Duke of Craven?"

"I don't serve any man," he said, with a tight smile. "I work for myself."

Had Cadogan recently handled a case for Argyll's former friend and now rival club owner the Duke of Craven? Yes.

Did that mean Cadogan possessed any allegiance to the other man? No.

Argyll sharpened his gaze on Cadogan's face, undoubtedly in search of his sincerity.

Throughout that scrutiny, Cadogan remained motionless. The imperious lord could look until the cows came home—he wouldn't find even a hint of Cadogan's thoughts.

"You claim you aren't working for my enemy, Cadogan," the affable gentleman remarked, this time in his good-natured way. "How is it then, you know the precise count of men in my employ?"

"I make it a habit of finding out everything about potential clients, Your Grace."

The pretend war the two dukes played, was just that—a game. These fancy lords? They knew less than shite about real conflict. Cadogan, on the other hand? The things he'd done to preserve peace and prosperity for king and country…and now his private work, would make even the duke's evilest act look like a trip to Gunter's ices.

"I'm honored by your continued attempts to hire me in some capacity," he said, lightly steering his meeting with the gentleman to a conclusion. "Given your recent reservations, Your Grace, I believe it is fair to conclude I am not the man to watch after your sister."

Giving a little laugh, Argyll shook a finger his way. "You are a baffling one, chap."

Cadogan displayed no outward reaction.

The duke's expression grew serious once more. He joined his hands together and continued his scrutiny of Cadogan.

"What will it take for me to tie you down?" he mulled his question aloud.

"I can't be tied down, Your Grace." Not by anyone or anything.

"You are the best, Cadogan," the duke persisted, his tone growing peevish. "And I only employ the best. I'll give you a fortune and more if you trade your role of assassin for the very temporary role of protector."

For an assignment Cadogan had absolutely no intention of taking, the exchange had continued on long enough. He already possessed a fortune and had the luxury of accepting or passing on assignments.

"Your Grace," he began, walking a careful line between making an enemy and making himself clear. "I trust you do not need me to point out your close friend and partner, Lachlan Latimer would be a sufficient alternative ."

A tic pulsed at the corner of the duke's right eye. "I am not questioning Latimer's abilities."

"I did not say you were." He didn't need to. The duke's continued requests of Cadogan spoke to the contrary.

He could practically see the wheel's churning in his mind. Argyll worried about that slight getting back to his partner.

"I'm not a man who talks, Your Grace," he said, alleviating at least one of the man's worries. "As for your sister, if not Latimer, I trust you're more than capable of providing her with the protection she requires." Cadogan stood and dropped a short bow. "Good evening, Your Grace."

He turned to go.

Wood scraped wood as the duke shoved his chair back. "There must be some way I might entice you."

The coy knowing tone stopped Cadogan in his tracks. Narrowing his eyes, he faced the desperate gentleman.

"I don't want for anything, Your Grace," he said curtly. He'd built a fortune out of corpses. "I need even less."

The duke fixed a calculating gaze on the jagged scar running down Cadogan's cheek—that same mark which ended Cadogan's career at the Home Office.

Argyll's lips tipped up in a smug grin. "Sometimes the things we want are very different from the things we need, eh, Cadogan?"

God, how he'd love to kick the everlasting life out of the pompous, self-assured fuck.

" I have something you want." There came a slight, and obvious pause. "That is, I should say, I have someone you want."

The duke stared unmistakably at the telltale scar marring his face.

Cadogan went still. Surely Argyll hadn't discovered the identity of the one who'd ended his career. His own searches into that question had all come up empty.

"Not at all curious?" the imperious gentleman lifted a brow. "Very well."

Argyll sauntered out from behind his desk.

"What would you say," he enticed, "if I told you I can offer you not only the name of the one behind that mark on your face, but also tell you exactly where you can find him."

There it was; Argyll had called checkmate, after all, and it was a match Cadogan found himself all too happy, nay, eager to lose.

For the duke possessed the one thing—no, the one person —Cadogan not only wanted but needed.

Hate singed his veins. The man who'd stolen his career and confined Cadogan to the unfulfilling future of settling frivolous conflicts of pompous lords deserved to pay.

Now, he would.

"Can you provide me that information, Your Grace?" he asked evenly.

"I can and I will." Argyll flashed a white grin. "That is, if you do me the favor of guarding the eldest of my sisters."

The thrilling promise of revenge fed his blackened soul.

Cadogan turned a slow, cold smile of his own. "It appears you do have something I want, after all."

First, however, there were details to sort out.

"I'm not committing an endless amount of my time ensuring your sister's well-being," he said, laying out the terms.

"My sister is well-behaved, innocent, and beautiful. She also happens to be the Diamond of the Season, and not simply because she is my sister." Argyll grinned. "Though that certainly improves her stock with some. She'll be wed before you know it. I need you until she's betrothed."

In other words, until the lady was some other gentleman's problem.

With that emotional detachedness, maybe Cadogan had more in common with the duke than he'd previously credited.

"I want an exact timeframe."

"Based upon how sought after she is? A fortnight."

By the speed with which the lady's brother delivered that answer, he'd not only already put thought into it, but was exceedingly confident in Lady Raina's prospects.

"Two weeks, then, Your Grace. And the fortune you spoke of?"

"Ten thousand pounds."

"You and I have very different opinions on what constitutes a fortune," Cadogan said drolly. "Either your club is not as prosperous as you let on, Your Grace, or you don't value your sister's life and virtue as much as you let on."

The Duke of Argyll's left brow twitched. "Twenty thousand pounds. The first half to be paid now, in full. The second installment you'll receive the day of Lady Raina's wedding. I want you accompanying her wherever she goes."

In short: Cadogan could anticipate shopping outings. Fittings. Walks in the park.

God help him. That is what he'd be doing for the next week. He was almost ready to slit his own throat just thinking about tedious assignment he'd agreed to take on.

"Your Grace?" Cadogan sharpened his eyes on the other man's unreadable face. "If I discover you've lied about the information, you'll be sharing with me when the fortnight is up, that'll be the last thing you ever do. Am I clear?"

The duke lifted his head in acknowledgment. "I don't lie." Again, Argyll sent a brow up. "Is there anything else?"

"I want to meet the lady."

"Yes," Argyll said. "We will schedule a time for you to—"

"Now."

That way, Cadogan could determine for himself just how obedient and predictable his charge would be.