Read Online Duke of Deception (Wentworth Trilogy) by Stephie Smith - Free Book Online

ever involve himself with. He was merely doing what he must in order to achieve his goal of discovering the smugglers. That was the only reason he was visiting her. He would collect information, he would infiltrate the gang, and he would bring his father’s murderers to justice.
    He smiled to himself, feeling absurdly pleased. As he had told Stephen many times, good planning was the mainstay of every successful venture.
    L ucy stared in disbelief as the drawing room door opened and another caller was led in by Evans.
    “His Grace, the Duke of Richmont,” announced the butler in a solemn voice before backing out of the room.
    A giggle rose in Lucy’s throat, and she realized she was on the verge of hysteria. The room overflowed with men of all ages and sizes, all of whom had come to call.
    She took in the sight of the duke’s puce satin waistcoat, stretched so tightly over his portly belly that the buttons were threatening to pop, and the giggle welled again. Turning in desperation to catch her aunt’s attention, she located Eleanor on the other side of the room, collecting cards and guiding departing callers to the double doors that opened onto the garden, from where they could take a path back to the street.
    “Captain Derek Wainright,” said Evans.
    Lucy’s gaze flew back to the doorway, and she caught her breath. The man was more handsome by daylight, if that was possible, and the mere sight of him started her heart beating in such a manner she could scarcely breathe.
    His biscuit-colored trousers hugged the sleek muscles of his thighs, and the crisp white shirt and cravat against his tan displayed the dark features of his face and hair to perfection. A chocolate brown waistcoat and jacket completed the attire that made him look every inch the aristocratic English gentleman, but she knew of no Englishman with those devilish good looks or a body that might have been sculpted by the most talented of artists.
    As he made his way toward her, she began to panic. What would she say to him? Why couldn’t she think straight? What in the world had made her think she could manipulate this man? Now only a few feet away, he smiled at her, a lazy look through smoky gray eyes. A tantalizing mixture of scents brought back memories of his kiss, of his strong arms holding her close. Her heart began to lurch.
    “The Earl of Harlech,” the butler called out.
    Lucy froze, forgetting all else. With great trepidation she dragged her gaze to the door, at once recognizing the man her uncle would shackle her to, though she had not seen him in two years. The earl’s icy glare raked the room before resting on her. Fury suffused his face.
    Her heart was in her throat. What was he doing here? He wasn’t supposed to be in Town. At any moment he would shout out their betrothal and ruin all her plans.
    “They seem to be coming in faster than your aunt can lead them out. Shall I shout fire?”
    The drawl of the American’s voice was oddly reassuring, and for one brief moment Lucy felt she wasn’t alone in her dilemma. She compared the amused expression on the privateer’s darkly handsome face with the thunderous expression on the flushed face of Lord Harlech and was inspired.
    “I feel ill. I-I-I may swoon,” she said, swaying in the captain’s direction. His smile disappeared as his jaw tightened with concern, and his powerful arms swept her up before her body had barely begun its descent.
    T here was an immediate uproar amongst the gentlemen who pressed closer to where the object of their desires lay lifeless in the arms of what many called a pirate.
    “Out of my way,” Derek barked out, forcing his way toward the drawing room door with a seemingly lifeless Lady Louisa in his arms.
    He searched the crowd for Lady Callister and found her across the room, unable to push through the sea of men. “Let Lady Callister through!” he commanded in his captain’s voice with a scowling nod in the lady’s direction. The gentlemen shrank