To Hold a Lady's Secret (The Heart of a Duke Book 16) Read online

  To Hold a Lady’s Secret

  by

  Christi Caldwell

  Other Titles by Christi Caldwell

  Heart of a Duke

  In Need of a Duke—Prequel Novella

  For Love of the Duke

  More than a Duke

  The Love of a Rogue

  Loved by a Duke

  To Love a Lord

  The Heart of a Scoundrel

  To Wed His Christmas Lady

  To Trust a Rogue

  The Lure of a Rake

  To Woo a Widow

  To Redeem a Rake

  One Winter with a Baron

  To Enchant a Wicked Duke

  Beguiled by a Baron

  To Tempt a Scoundrel

  To Hold a Lady’s Secret

  The Heart of a Scandal

  In Need of a Knight—Prequel Novella

  Schooling the Duke

  A Lady’s Guide to a Gentleman’s Heart

  A Matchmaker for a Marquess

  His Duchess for a Day

  Five Days with a Duke

  Lords of Honor

  Seduced by a Lady’s Heart

  Captivated by a Lady’s Charm

  Rescued by a Lady’s Love

  Tempted by a Lady’s Smile

  Courting Poppy Tidemore

  Scandalous Seasons

  Forever Betrothed, Never the Bride

  Never Courted, Suddenly Wed

  Always Proper, Suddenly Scandalous

  Always a Rogue, Forever Her Love

  A Marquess for Christmas

  Once a Wallflower, at Last His Love

  Sinful Brides

  The Rogue’s Wager

  The Scoundrel’s Honor

  The Lady’s Guard

  The Heiress’s Deception

  The Wicked Wallflowers

  The Hellion

  The Vixen

  The Governess

  The Bluestocking

  The Spitfire

  The Theodosia Sword

  Only For His Lady

  Only For Her Honor

  Only For Their Love

  Danby

  A Season of Hope

  Winning a Lady’s Heart

  The Brethren

  The Spy Who Seduced Her

  The Lady Who Loved Him

  The Rogue Who Rescued Her

  The Minx Who Met Her Match

  The Spinster Who Saved a Scoundrel

  Lost Lords of London

  In Bed with the Earl

  Brethren of the Lords

  My Lady of Deception

  Her Duke of Secrets

  Regency Duets

  Rogues Rush In: Tessa Dare and Christi Caldwell

  Yuletide Wishes: Grace Burrowes and Christi Caldwell

  Her Christmas Rogue

  Standalone

  Fighting for His Lady

  Memoir: Non-Fiction

  Uninterrupted Joy

  To Hold a Lady’s Secret

  Copyright © 2020 by Christi Caldwell

  Kindle Edition

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without written permission.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or borrow it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

  Content Warning

  Mentions of Sexual Assault

  For more information about the author:

  www.christicaldwellauthor.com

  [email protected]

  Twitter: @ChristiCaldwell

  Or on Facebook at: Christi Caldwell Author

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  Table of Contents

  Other Titles by Christi Caldwell

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Christi Caldwell

  Biography

  Prologue

  Twelve years earlier

  Cheshire, England

  “I hate boys.”

  That made two of them.

  Boys were miserable little buggers. And the more powerful they were, the meaner they were, too. They delighted in making a person feel bad about oneself. That inexorable truth was the reason that Colin Lockhart now found himself hiding in a copse.

  “Are you listening, Colin?” The beleaguered voice came from over by the brook, where Lady Gillian Farendale gathered stones and dropped them into her basket.

  He peeked about before speaking. “Yes, I heard you.” The problem was, anyone looking for Colin was likely to hear her, too.

  He should have known better than to not answer her. She hated silence with the same burning intensity the sun hated the English sky.

  “You didn’t say anything,” Gillian chided. “You know, you are very distant today. It is not at all like you.”

  Actually, it was very much like him… with everyone except the chattering girl he called a friend.

  Gillian paused in her rock collecting to throw the back of a hand to her forehead in her not-unfamiliar dramatic manner. “I’m never going to get married.”

  “Of course you are,” he said under his breath as he once more ducked his head out from behind the enormous tree trunk. Colin searched about for his latest nemeses. “Ouch,” he grunted as his leg crumpled beneath him. He turned a sharp glare over his shoulder at the one responsible for the well-aimed rock to the backside of his knee. “What in the devil was that for?”

  “Because you don’t get to say whether or not I’m going to get married.” With a little toss of her blonde curls, Gillian bent and collected another rock from the brook. She held it aloft and eyed it for several moments before adding it to her basket.

  “What is with your sudden interest in rocks?” he asked, unable to help the question.

  “It’s not so very sudden.” She shrugged. “They’re pretty and useful, and one never knows when one will require a good rock.”

  He snorted. “A good rock?” Rocks weren’t going to put food on a table, and they certainly weren’t going to warm a cottage.

  “Do you have a problem with my collection?”

  That arch tone had him instantly schooling his features. When presented with either an impending battle with Layton Langley or a match against Gillian, Colin would choose the former every day of the week. “Of course not.”

  “Well, that is good, because I’m still cross with you for trying to marry me off to any old gentleman.” She plunked another rock into her rapidly increasing collection.
r />   Given he was risking a beating if discovered in his current hiding spot, it really wasn’t prudent to engage in his customary discussions and debates about… anything with Gillian. Not this time. People were looking for him, and Colin wasn’t one to lose at anything, including a confrontation with Cheshire’s biggest bullies. Even with all that, he’d never been able to let it go with her. “I didn’t say ‘any old gentleman.’ He could be a young one.”

  She glared at him. “Are you making light?”

  “Gillian, you are the daughter of a marquess.” This time as he delivered those words, he was wise enough to keep watch on Gillian, her basket… and his leg.

  Her eyes formed tiny little slits. “And?” she prodded, planting her hands on her hips. The basket hung awkwardly at her side.

  “And? You aren’t dim, Gillian.” In fact, she was the cleverest person he knew. “Noblemen’s daughters marry other noblemen’s sons. That’s… just the way. Now, if you’d just go?” They were going to find him. With all this noise and all this chattering, discovery was inevitable. There was also the matter of her father, who’d spoken to Colin’s mother about not wanting her bastard son being friendly with his proper daughter. “We can play later.”

  Gillian wasn’t deterred. “It doesn’t have to be the way you describe. I don’t have to marry a nobleman.”

  Yes, yes, she did. He opted this time, however, to let the matter go.

  “Furthermore,” She flung another exaggerated hand over her brow. “No one is going to want to marry me.”

  He scrutinized her with a new and even deeper degree of wariness. This was dangerous territory. Colin knew next to nothing about little girls, but he knew this had all the makings of a trap. “You…” Oh, blast. What was he supposed to say here? Colin spoke on a rush. “You don’t know that.” There! He’d—

  By the angry little sparkle in her eyes, those had not been the words she’d been in search of.

  He fiddled with the frayed collar of his ancient jacket and tried again. “And… why wouldn’t they want to marry you? You’re—”

  Gillian arched forward on the balls of her feet. “Yesss?” She stared expectantly at him.

  For a moment, he thought she might have been fishing for compliments, because surely she knew why she was the only girl he preferred in the whole damned countryside.

  “And you’re clever. You spit farther than anyone I know. You can deliver a nasty blow to a person a stone bigger than you.” And if those weren’t reasons enough that a boy shouldn’t want to marry a girl? Well, then, he didn’t know what else to say.

  Gillian sank back on her heels. “My father said I was flighty.”

  “Your father doesn’t have a brain between his ears.” That hateful nob, who, when he wasn’t inviting illustrious guests only to raise his prestige, was sending his servants with orders for Colin to stay away from Gillian.

  Gillian’s eyes lit, bright and clear, and so something that he squirmed, unnerved by that show of emotion. That was certainly not the kind of relationship he had with Gillian.

  “That is what my sister Genevieve is forever saying.”

  “Well, she’s right,” he said distractedly, stealing another peek out from behind his hiding space. They weren’t going to quit until they found him. And with Gillian’s usual chattering, it would be only a moment before they discovered them… or, more specifically, Colin. “Gillian, I’ve got company I’m expecting.”

  He might as well have stolen her bait for the wounded look she gave him. “You… have new friends?”

  No. She was the only one. The only one he’d ever had, in fact. Admitting as much, admitting that he was facing another beating, however, proved one admission he couldn’t make to even his best friend. “Would you mind?” he asked impatiently.

  Gillian folded her hands primly. “Not at all.”

  Except, she made no move to leave.

  “What are you doing?” he blurted.

  “You were asking me to greet your new friends, were you not?”

  New friends. He silently scoffed. That was one way to describe Langley, MacArthur, and Meadows. “No,” he said bluntly. “I was certainly not.”

  Her face crumpled. “Oh.”

  And damned if he didn’t feel like he’d just kicked a cat for the wounded glimmer in those eyes that revealed too much. Even so, he needed her gone.

  Now.

  Gillian sighed. “Very well. I shall leave you to your friends.” She took two steps, swinging her basket as she went, and then wheeled back to face him. “Is it that they’re boys and you are tired of hanging out with a girl after all these years?”

  He swallowed a groan. Good hell. This was not the time for this. “Of course not.”

  Those three words, however, didn’t suffice. “Because I am not like a girl girl.” No, she wasn’t. “I ride astride, and we hunt, even though I don’t like hunting.” Her eyes widened. “Is that what it is?”

  “Gillian?” he said impatiently.

  By the crestfallen look that stamped her features, she’d been expecting more. “Hmph.” With that little grunt, she adjusted the small basket of stones. “Very well, I’ll leave you to them.” With a toss of her blond curls, she left.

  Finally. Now he could—

  “There he is.”

  Colin cursed. His heart pounded hard and loud in his ears, and he took a step to flee.

  Too late.

  “Got you, you miserable bastard.”

  The two boys behind the leader of the trio dissolved into laughter, as if the cleverest insult had been dealt, rather than a mere statement of fact about Colin’s birthright.

  His feet twitched. Colin longed to run, and yet… He was many things. Illegitimate. Sometimes surly. But he wasn’t one who’d back down when confronted by his bullies. Still, when Colin stepped out from his hiding spot, his stomach sank.

  Lord Langley and two of the sons of some landed gentry stood shoulder to shoulder. All in equal states of flawless dress. From their wool tailcoats on down to their gleaming, buckled boots, they were the model of privilege and power and… everything Colin was not.

  “I don’t have any problems with you,” Colin called, proud of how even his voice was when inside he was shaking. It wasn’t that each boy was particularly strong, but when they combined forces? He suppressed a shudder.

  Bulky Lord Langley looped his thumbs into his strained waistband and ambled over. He stopped three feet away from Colin. “Yes, that might be true, but you see, we have problems with you.”

  Three feet. The distance was close enough to pounce and close enough that Colin couldn’t escape without the other boy landing at least one blow. But it was always more than one. Particularly as he had his lackeys with him.

  Colin brought his arms up, folding them close at his chest, so he was in position to counter any strike. “Oh? Am I supposed to guess what offense I’ve supposedly committed this time?”

  “We saw you talking to Lady Gillian Farendale again,” Benny MacArthur interjected as he leaned around Langley.

  Langley glared at the small, slender boy.

  MacArthur instantly fell back.

  When Langley faced Colin, his dark look was reserved once more for Colin. “We saw you and the youngest Farendale girl,” Langley confirmed, as if he required the pleasure of that reveal. “You’ve no place speaking to a lady.”

  No, Colin didn’t. But he’d be damned if he let these village bullies to the decision. “There’s no crime in speaking to a lady.” And he was familiar with crime and law. Studying those books Gillian sneaked from her father’s library was how he spent his nights.

  “It should be.” Langley flashed a slightly yellowed, gap-toothed smile. “After all, your mother is a whore.”

  Hatred snapped through Colin, and it was all he could do to maintain his restraint to keep from pouncing on and pounding the other boy. There was one certainty, however: There’d be no getting out of it this day, then. “My father is a duke,” Colin pointed o
ut. “And you’re only just a baron’s son, so?” He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “And not even by blood.”

  “It is by blood,” Langley shouted. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The fact that he and his family had come to their title by a chance twist of fate was Langley’s weakness. Rumors said the boy’s family had never even met the ancient baron from whom they’d received the title.

  If Colin were a better person, he’d stop baiting Langley. But Colin wasn’t a better person. A fight was certain, and if he was going to have it, Colin would also have the other boy unsettled. Colin tapped his chin in feigned contemplation. “Was there blood between you and the last baron, though? A third cousin twice removed died?” He looked to the other boys, who scratched at deeply puzzled brows.

  Langley caught the confusion from his pair and thumped his fist against MacArthur’s arm. “Stop it. There’s a blood connection.”

  “Of course,” MacArthur and Meadows said in obedient unison, compliant, loyal friends once more.

  Langley approached; his hulking frame bent and poised for battle. “I’m going to end you, Lockhart.”

  Letting out a roar, Colin charged. His own frame, however, was slighter compared to the other boy’s bulk, and Langley cuffed him in the face, knocking Colin to the ground.

  Colin landed hard and all the air in his lungs left him on a whoosh. Giving his head a clearing shake, he braced as Langley came for him once more. He waited, timing his kick so that it was just right. Until Langley stood over him, and smiled coldly back.

  Colin braced; preparing to kick the bigger boy between the legs.

  “Owww,” Langley cried out, and spun around.

  What in hell? Colin scrambled to stand.

  A small rock hit Langley squarely between the eyes.

  The village bully squealed like a stuck pig. Tears immediately sprang to the boy’s eyes as he rubbed at the red and rapidly swelling mark.

  Colin’s eyebrows went flying up as he looked from the first, sizable stone that had hit the boy, to the one responsible for that blow.

  Gillian stood there, her hands on her little hips and anger blazing from her eyes. Even as diminutive as she was at just a handful of inches past four feet, Colin found himself as unnerved by her ferocious presence as the trio cowering off to the side. “Who do you think you are, Layton Langley?” she shouted.