Chapter Nineteen

L ater that afternoon, Dustin followed John to the Lyon's Den. It was a blue building that looked much more understated on the outside than inside, for it was a gambling hell that fulfilled all the vices of the ton. Dustin saw tables with cards and even a cage with a snake he was sure the inebriated aristocrats put bets on every night. Guards stood in every corner and at every door like wolves ready to pounce.

"She will never let you get away with it," Dustin said in a low voice as he followed the enormously tall man who'd introduced himself as Puck.

"That's why I am bringing you along. She can't say no to both dukes."

Dustin hoped, anyway. Not that he'd voice that aloud, especially here. There were probably eyes and ears everywhere. "We're not both dukes."

"I know." John shrugged because they'd reached the heavy door at the end of a short corridor on the upper level.

"She'll see you now," Puck said as he opened the door.

"The two Dukes of Duncan, my my, what a sight for sore eyes." With a start, Dustin wondered how the elegant, veiled elderly woman knew their secret. She rose from a wide desk was more befitting of a Lord Chancellor than a woman. Dustin had the sinking feeling she was more powerful than even the Lord Chancellor himself.

She really did have eyes and ears everywhere. Even outside of the walls of this establishment.

John bowed to her as if she were the queen, and Dustin followed his suit. He hadn't been in the situation to behave as his title demanded, but it had been ingrained in him and he found it quite easy to play along.

"What do you need? I thought the Archbishop of Canterbury signed the special license?"

"Indeed. Thank you—"

She waived and interrupted John's platitudes with a single flick of her wrist. He fell silent. She walked around the desk and toward Dustin.

She stopped and peered at him; even though he couldn't see her face behind the veil, he could feel her eyes boring through his. He shifted like a schoolboy called onto the carpet. "Are you ready to be duke yet, Dr. Fitzwater?"

"Mrs. Dove-Lyon, I—"

"You forget your manners, Doctor. When a lady asks a question, you owe her an answer."

"I don't owe you anything," Dustin mumbled, and John flashed him a fierce look. "We've never met."

"Oh, that's true, but, you see, I sent you a bride, which puts you in business with me."

"You sent my cousin a special license, but no bride can be sent . Women aren't parcels."

The woman dropped her shoulders and gave a hearty laugh that shook her entire body; her veil fluttered with her exhalations. Finally, however, she recovered herself. The elderly woman poked him in the chest with her index finger. "I like you for Lexi! You're exactly what she needs. Not just because you're a dentist, of course."

Dusting placed his palm over the place she'd poked and realized she'd aimed her finger directly at his heart. "I beg your pardon?"

"Her sister, Melissa, came from the Prince Regent's bedroom straight to me with certain demands. You know…" She drew invisible swirls in the air.

He didn't but he thought it wiser not to ask.

John furrowed his forehead, and Dustin's hands grew cold and moist. He had a bad feeling as if he were a fly who'd flown into the Black Widow's web. And if Prinny had sent Lexi's sister to her, Mrs. Dove-Lyon's web was wide indeed. She turned toward John.

Was it his imagination, or did Dustin's cousin seem to shrink under her perusal? "Well, I can see you are eager to get out of the contract, Your Grace." She looked at John and tilted her head like a strict mother waiting for a confession. "And your roles are reversed now, aren't they?" She turned back to Dustin. "It is you who wishes to step in your cousin's shoes for a change, hm?"

"I don't follow—"

"Do you want to marry Lady Alexis Wentworth, or not?"

John jerked his head back, and Dustin felt like the fly would be devoured first. His impulse was to run, but he knew this web was sticky, and his responsibilities and title would catch up with him. There would be no more running.

"Yes, I'd like to marry her." John swallowed visibly, but Dustin continued, "If she'll have me."

"Of course, she'll have you." The woman who was more than two decades—maybe three—Dustin's senior gave him a look he could feel burning him through her thick face-covering. "Have you seen yourself?" She gave a soft sigh. "I'd hoped this would happen. The special license reads Duke of Duncan and Lady Alexis Wentworth."

She'd hoped? Did that mean the Black Widow wasn't all-powerful? Dustin found that hard to believe, especially now that he'd met her.

"That's the problem, we need to change it," John said.

"Why? He's the duke, isn't he?"

Dustin's heart plummeted to the floor. So this was the plan? She was moving in, ready to stab him for the kill.

"I'm about to be… but he's…" John stammered and locked, awestruck by how quickly his luck had turned.

"If the Peerage Committee believes Dr. Fitzwater, he'll take his rightful place. And Alexis can be his duchess. I have something else in mind for you, Mr. Stonebridge. Don't you wish for a match?"

John narrowed his gaze but then stepped backward and sank onto the settee beside a mahogany coffee table. He turned away and looked at the fire blazing instead of Dustin. It was probably the first time in years that someone had called him a mere mister. Trying to console his cousin, Dustin moved toward him, but the woman gripped his arm. "Not so fast, Your Grace. It's time you stop running and take your place."

"They won't ratify me, they won't believe I'm…he's so much better at the job than I could ever be and besides, they think I'm dead—"

"Lord Lennox and Beauford already know. You have the necessary votes if you can prove who you are."

"But how?" And before Dustin could finish the words, Mrs. Dove-Lyon produced a drawing of his mother's pair of ruby earrings and some writing in Cyrillic letters—but Dustin couldn't read Russian. "I believe you are in possession of one of these, Your Grace. In this establishment, we'd call this two of a kind. Are you ready to fold?"

The following day, Dustin rode alongside John in the traditional red robes worn for special parliamentary sessions. The white ermine collar bothered him, for he hated the feeling of fur on his skin, but he hated more what he was about to do.

"You should have never given the earring as collateral for the estate," Dustin said as he and John hopped off their mares and handed the reins to the stable boys.

"I wonder how it fell into her hands," John muttered. "Your father lost the jewel to mine, and I needed something to get the dukedom out of debt."

"But now you have to repay her to get it back. What do you reckon she wants from you?"

"I'd be willing to bet it's you, but with Mrs. Dove-Lyon, I'm afraid to speak the words." John put off the topic with a wistful smile. "Don't worry about me, Cousin, just take your rightful place."

"Will you come back with me? You and Herbert?" Dustin asked as he stepped through the large iron doors and into the halls of Westminster.

"If you'll have us, we'll be there. But if I'm not duke, Dustin, you need an heir. So follow your heart and make sure you can have Lady Alexis as the rightful Duke of Duncan."

With a pat on Dustin's shoulder, John led him into the chambers.