Lady Ines Scandalous Hobby-Chapter 159 - Hundred And Fifty Nine

The study in the Duke’s townhouse was quiet. The heavy velvet curtains were pulled back, letting the afternoon light spill onto the mahogany desk. It was hard to believe that a month ago, this room had been the center of a war against scandal.

Carcel stood behind his desk. He opened the heavy iron safe concealed behind a painting of a lush garden. He reached inside and pulled out a heavy leather pouch. It clinked softly as he moved it.

He walked back to the desk and placed the pouch in the center.

Across from him stood Mr. Vance. The spy looked as he always did—unremarkable. He wore a plain gray suit that allowed him to blend into any crowd. He held his hat in his hands, his face blank and unreadable.

Carcel pushed the pouch across the polished wood.

"That settles it," Carcel said. His voice was low and final.

He felt a great weight lift off his shoulders. The money was a small price to pay for Ines’s safety. He would have paid ten times that amount. He would have given everything he owned to keep her safe from Priscilla’s malice.

Vance reached out. His hand was quick, like a bird snatching a crumb. He picked up the pouch. He didn’t open it to count the coins. He simply weighed it in his palm, testing the heft of the gold inside.

"Thank you so much for your help," Carcel said. He meant it. Without Vance, Gladys might still be missing. Without Vance, they might not have found the old letters to forge Priscilla’s handwriting and frame her.

Vance shook the pouch.

Clink-clink-clink.

It was a satisfying sound. A small, dry smile touched the spy’s lips. It was the first time Carcel had seen him truly smile in days.

"I’m always happy to help, Your Grace," Vance replied. His voice was scratchy, like dry leaves. "You pay well. And the work was... interesting. I rarely get to outsmart a lady of the ton."

Vance tucked the heavy pouch inside his coat. It disappeared instantly, leaving no bulge in the fabric. It was a magic trick only a man of his profession could master.

"You know where to find me when you need me," Vance added. He adjusted his collar. "Though I hope, for your sake, you won’t need me again soon. A quiet life is a good life."

Carcel smiled and nodded. "I intend to have a very quiet life from now on."

Vance chuckled softly. He placed his hat back on his head, tipping the brim slightly in a gesture of respect.

"Well then," Vance said, turning toward the door. "I guess I’ll be on my way."

He paused with his hand on the brass doorknob. He looked back at the Duke.

"And don’t forget to send me an invitation," Vance said, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "I wouldn’t want to miss your wedding for anything in the world. I want to see the happy ending. I usually only see the messy middles."

Carcel laughed. It was a genuine, hearty sound. "Certainly. You will have a seat in the back, where you can watch everyone without being seen."

"Perfect," Vance said.

Carcel turned his head to the corner of the room where his aide was standing.

"Lloyd," Carcel commanded. "See Mr. Vance out."

Lloyd stepped forward, tall and stiff, with his hair combed so neatly it looked painted on. He wore the black uniform of the Duke’s household. He had been standing so still in the corner that he looked like a statue.

"Yes, Your Grace," Lloyd said. He bowed deeply to Carcel.

Lloyd walked to the door and opened it wide. He gestured with a stiff hand for Vance to exit.

"This way, Mr. Vance," Lloyd said formally.

Vance nodded to Carcel one last time and slipped out into the hallway. Lloyd followed him, closing the heavy oak door with a soft click.

Carcel was left alone in the silence. He walked to the window and looked out at the street. He watched as Vance walked down the front steps and disappeared into the crowd of London.

The man was a ghost. He came when needed, fixed the impossible, and vanished.

Carcel took a deep breath. It was finally over. The last tie to the ugly business with Priscilla was cut. Now, he could focus on the future.

A few minutes later, the door opened again.

Lloyd walked back in. He closed the door and stood by the desk, his hands clasped behind his back. He looked troubled. His brow was furrowed in confusion.

"Your Grace," Lloyd started, hesitancy in his voice.

"Yes, Lloyd?" Carcel asked, turning away from the window.

"If I may ask," Lloyd said, tilting his head slightly. "How did you meet Mr. Vance? He is... not the sort of gentleman usually found in a Duke’s study. He has a dangerous air about him."

Carcel walked back to his desk and sat down in his leather chair. He picked up a silver letter opener and turned it over in his hands.

"I met him at the military," Carcel replied. His eyes grew distant, looking at a memory Lloyd could not see. "Years ago. Before I inherited the title. When I was just a soldier."

Lloyd listened intently. He knew the Duke had served, but Carcel rarely spoke of it.

"He was their top spy," Carcel explained. "He could get into enemy camps when no one else could. He saved my unit more than once with his information."

Carcel set the letter opener down.

"After the war," Carcel continued, "he decided to work for himself. He didn’t like taking orders from generals anymore. He started having a network of people work for him. He solves problems that the law cannot touch." 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Lloyd nodded slowly. His eyes widened as he processed this information. He looked at the empty space where Vance had stood with a new level of respect—and fear.

"I see," Lloyd murmured. "It is good to have such friends, I suppose."

"It is," Carcel agreed. "But now, Lloyd, we must focus on happier things."

Lloyd stood up straighter. He blinked, as if waking up from a trance. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook.

"Yes, Your Grace," Lloyd said, checking his list. "That reminds me. Your Grace, everything is set for your departure to Carleton tomorrow."

Carcel froze for a second.

Carleton. His country estate. The seat of his Dukedom. It was a massive, beautiful place days away from London.

"Tomorrow," Carcel repeated.

"Yes, sir," Lloyd confirmed. "The carriage is prepared. The trunks are packed. We sent riders ahead to prepare the staff. You need to inspect the grounds and finalize the preparations for the wedding reception. But the chapel here needs your approval."

Carcel nodded. He rubbed his face with his hand. He knew he had to go. A Duke could not get married without preparing his house for his bride. He needed to make sure everything was perfect for Ines. He needed to make sure the flowers were right, the rooms were aired, and the servants were ready to welcome their new mistress.

But it meant leaving London. It meant leaving Ines.

"I will be gone for a month," Carcel calculated.

"At least a month, sir," Lloyd said.

Carcel sighed. He didn’t want to leave her. Not now, when they had just found peace. But duty called.

"After my dinner tonight," Carcel said, standing up decisively. "I’ll tell her about it. I am dining with her and Rowan. I will explain that I must go home and prepare for the wedding."

He walked around the desk. He stopped in front of a small drawer. He used a small gold key from his waistcoat pocket to unlock it.

He reached inside and pulled out a small, velvet box. It was a deep, rich purple color.

"Lloyd," Carcel said softly.

Lloyd stepped closer. "Sir?"

Carcel opened the box.

Inside, resting on white satin, lay a necklace. It was breathtaking. It was made of silver, delicate as a spiderweb. In the center hung a large, flawless amethyst. The stone was cut in the shape of a teardrop. It caught the afternoon light and sparkled with a deep, violet fire.

It was not the gaudy jewelry of the court. It was simple, elegant, and sincere.

"Do you think she would like it?" Carcel asked.

He looked at Lloyd with genuine worry. He was a powerful man, a war hero, and a Duke, but when it came to Ines, he was just a man in love, terrified of making a mistake.

"I chose amethyst because it matches the dress she wore the night we met when I came back from war," Carcel confessed quietly. "And because... purple is the color of devotion."

Lloyd looked at the necklace. He smiled. It was a rare, warm smile from the stiff aide.

"Definitely, Your Grace," Lloyd replied firmly. "It is beautiful. Lady Ines will cherish it. Not because of the stone, but because you chose it."

Carcel looked at the necklace one last time. He imagined it resting against Ines’s skin. He imagined her smile when she opened the box.

He snapped the lid shut with a satisfied click. He placed the box in his pocket, right next to his heart.

"Thank you, Lloyd," Carcel said. "You have eased my mind."

"I only speak the truth, sir," Lloyd said.

Carcel checked his pocket watch. It was time to get ready for dinner. Time to see Ines.

"You may go," Carcel said. "Finish the packing. We leave at dawn."

Lloyd bowed low. "Yes, Your Grace."

Lloyd turned and walked out of the room, leaving Carcel alone with his hope and the small velvet box. Carcel walked to the mirror and straightened his cravat. He looked at his reflection. The bruises from the fight were fading. The exhaustion was gone.

"One month," he whispered to himself. "Then she comes home to Carleton. Then she comes home to me."