Page 1 of Claiming His Lost Duchess
CHAPTER ONE
“Another pint of beer and a bottle of whisky, barkeep!” someone yelled as Joan Brooks entered the inn.
She tightened her grip on the small bag that contained her belongings her eyes wary and body tense as she looked around what might be her dwelling for the night.
The last few days had sapped her of her strength, as her wit and cunning were greatly tested. It had taken a lot of effort to leave her home, and even more to stay out of sight from the men her uncle had undoubtedly tasked to locate her and return her home.
But she would rather die than return there. Not after everything.
So, no matter how afraid she was, how uncertain the future might be, she needed to progress forward. That was all she could do.
The place was as rowdy as she expected it to be, filled with noisy patrons trying to pay for a place to lay their heads for the night, while others were eagerly downing spirits and losing their minds to drunkenness.
The crowd nearly weakened her resolve, but she merely pulled her cloak tighter over her body as she approached the person she assumed to be the owner.
Joan knew she couldn’t turn back now, not when she was so close to leaving London finally. Not when the haunting days that had filled her life would soon be behind her.
Just as she took a breath to speak up and request a room, a man stepped in her way.
“Well, look what we’ve got here, gents. Are you lost, miss?”
Joan felt her blood run cold, and she tried to be as calm as possible, shaking her head slowly as she said,
“No. I-I only want to get a room —”
“By yourself? What’s a little thing like you doing traveling alone?” He questioned, leaning in closer.
His breath smelled of scotch, and it was all she could do not to flinch away, not wanting to upset him in any way.
“I'm not alone,” she lied, having learned from the encounters of the last few days. “My — my father asked me to get a room for us. While he handles some business.”
She thought he would have left her alone at the mention of her father, but for some reason, he seemed even more pleased.
“Your father, aye? Perhaps I shall wait with you until he returns. I have a proposal that might be to his liking.”
As he said the last sentence, his gaze roamed over her body, and Joan's heart sank.
She shook her head, backing away as she told him,
“I don't think he'll be interested in any sort of proposal. Good night, sir.”
As she turned around, she bumped into someone — another man who reached out to steady her.
“Are you all right, miss? You don’t want to be mingling so carelessly around here. Some gent might get the wrong ideas,” the newcomer said with a smirk.
She flinched away from his touch, wincing when the first one who had been speaking to her grabbed her by the wrist.
“I insist, miss. It is dangerous for a pretty little thing like you to be by herself. Let me watch over him until he returns. Trust me, no harm will come to you in that time. Perhaps some pleasure,” he whispered in her ear, his breath against the nape of her neck making her skin crawl.
“Please, t-there’s no need for that. I am perfectly capable of —”
“Let her go.”
All three of them turned to the new voice.
A man stood a few feet away, his features barely visible beneath the cloak he wore. Then he pushed back the hood and greeted them with a cold glare.
“I will only say this one more time: release her. I am not fond of repeating myself needlessly, especially as I am of the belief that a proper skelping can solve problems better than words. If you wish to keep your body intact, I would suggest that you let the lassie go and bugger off.”
