Page 1 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
Chapter One
“You sly, slippery bastard!”
The shout came from Lord Hargrove, on the floor below the elevated recess where Alexander Prestwick, the Duke of Silverton, sat.
His mouth curved up into a dark smirk at the familiar shout of anger. Had he been closer, he would have heard thethwackof a losing hand being thrown down onto the table.
“You are a sore loser, Lord Hargrove! Do not cause a scene.”
His opponent, who likely had possessed a slippery hand, as was the case with many gamblers in the Raven’s Den, argued the claim.
Alexander’s eyes swept the gambling hall, taking in the opulence that dripped through the space. Velvet drapes hung overshadowed alcoves, like the one he lounged in, on a deep-backed velvet chair.
He knew well enough what sort of sordid activities went on in some of those alcoves.
Hushed conversations could be heard from others, bursts of laughter and the clink of glasses as business deals were struck.
And beneath it all was the heartbeat of the Raven’s Den: the shuffle of cards, and the complaints of losing men with debts higher than the hall’s ceiling.
Alexander leaned back, content with the empire he had recreated six years ago.
Until another shout came from Lord Hargrove’s table, and his attention was once again piqued.
He leaned forward just enough to let his hair be glimpsed, shielding his features. Of course, nobody knew that the illustrious Duke of Silverton was the owner of such a dark, tricky business.
At least once a night, when he ventured into the hall to watch from above as the predictable chaos erupted, his attention caught on a duo’s argument.
“Simply accept it, my lord,” Lord Hargrove’s opponent, who Alexander recognized as Mr. Garston, another wealthybusinessman with coin to burn, laughed. One of his legs draped over the other, a display of casual confidence and arrogance.
“I shall not accept a man who cheats,” Lord Hargrove shouted. “Even worse when he laughs as he steals my money.”
“Do not gamble what you cannot lose, Hargrove.”
The warning was clear, rising above the din of everything else.
Alexander raised a brow.
Excellent logic, he thought.It is a shame the Raven’s Den does not see more of Mr. Garston.
He relaxed back into the shadows until another slurred accusation fired across their gaming table.
“You are a scoundrel, both in here and out on the streets of London, Garston. Accept that you must cheat because you cannot win otherwise! And not just with money, I believe.”
“Watch your tongue, Hargrove.”
“I willnot.” A drunken laugh spiraled from the foolish lord. “Better yet, I shall watchyours.”
Alexander considered going to the balcony on the upper floor he watched from, and he almost didn’t, until he saw the flash ofsteel wink beneath the chandelier that hung in the middle of the circular building.
“How brave are you now, Garston?” Hargrove yelled, rising from his chair, wielding his knife.
He crouched, as if ready to spring. His body swayed unsteadily, and Alexander eyed the many glasses that had yet to be cleared on their table, scattered amongst the cards.
“Hargrove.” The warning came clear from Garston, who rose to his feet. “Do not be foolish over a game of?—”
“Do not,” Hargrove hissed, lifting the knife higher, teeth bared. “Do not patronize me.A game of cards. You know full well what you have just swindled from me!”
Alexander wasted no more time. He smoothly stood up, descending the stairs from his balcony. To the eyes of the attendees, he was just another patron, not the owner. Even with the pretense, the conversation fell to a silent standstill, eyes sliding to him as he approached the two men.
