Chapter One
Lord Callum Exmouth stood on the edge of the large ballroom, strategically near one of the open garden doors. The spring breeze kept the air around him fresh and made him feel less trapped by the crowd. Large social gatherings made him uncomfortable. Not that he couldn’t participate in them, he just didn’t like them.
He rolled his neck from side to side, causing it to crack. Hell, he hated parties and balls. Unlike the other men in his circle, he hadn’t grown up knowing he was part of the peerage. His friends called him Exile, and the name suited him. He was an outcast, especially among his own family.
A gentleman bumped him and Exile let out a deep rumble of dissatisfaction. The man looked over at him, his brow scrunched until he caught Exile’s gaze then his own eyes widened in surprise. “I beg your pardon.” The man shuffled off quickly giving several worried glances backward.
He cracked two of his knuckles as if to underscore his point. Exile had that effect on people. His sheer size was intimidating.
Exile’s cousin, Ewan, was supposed to be the next Earl of Exmouth. Ewan had been born and raised for the position of a Scottish earl and had taken to the role naturally. Fair and decent, Ewan would have made an excellent leader of his people. Exile thought back to his larger-than-life cousin. Though, physically speaking, they’d been the same size, even as kids, Ewan had always known what to do. One summer, Exile had stayed with his aunt and uncle on their estate north of Glasgow. While playing with a group of boys, one of them had fallen from a tree and broken his arm. At twelve years of age, Ewan had taken charge. He’d sent one child for help, another was to hold the boy’s hand, a third was to go directly to the doctor. At ten, Exile had wondered if he’d ever be as capable as Ewan. Now at eight and twenty he was still asking himself that same question.
Two ladies passed by him, gossiping loudly. “Did you see the cut of her dress? Awful.”
“I know,” the other replied, snapping open her fan and giving him a long stare over the top.
Exile looked away, not interested. His mind was elsewhere in the past. More and more he thought of his cousin rather than less. Ewan should be the earl now. Instead, Ewan had died five years prior. The worst part was his cousin had left this world attempting, as usual, to do the right thing. Exile’s gut clenched. Bloody unfair. So now, his family, his people, were stuck with Exile as their earl. No one was happy about it. Certainly not his aunt. Definitely not the farmers who grumbled about how much time he spent in England and most certainly not himself.
Exile had never wanted the responsibility. Of course, he still tried to do the best he could. Hell, he’d even gone into business running a gaming hell to make sure his people remained fed. Not that anyone would appreciate his efforts if they knew the truth. They’d likely call him morally corrupt. On several occasions his aunt had outright told him he wasn’t the man Ewan had been. She wasn’t wrong. In fact, Exile mostly agreed.
He shifted, uncomfortable with where his thoughts had dragged him. A woman with a large feathered hat stepped in front of him, the plumes reaching several feet in the air and blocking his view. As he moved, he caught sight of the door. His friend and fellow club owner walked into the room. The Duke of Darlington, being a full head taller than everyone else, was easy to spot. Next to him was his wife, Minnie. Her bright red hair also standing out in the crowd. He searched just behind her and saw the woman he’d originally come to see: Lady Diana Chase.
His insides tightened. He hadn’t meant to react like that. He’d gone to the ball to see her, yes, but not to be with her. In fact, he already had an intended, though he hadn’t chosen that woman either. Fiona was Ewan’s fiancée and his aunt was convinced that Exile should honor the commitment. If he recalled, her exact words were to the effect of, “It’s the least you could do.”
His chest puffed out as he drew in a long breath. Marry a woman he’d never even met? Then again, after all the losses his aunt had endured, he wasn’t certain how he could refuse.
He gazed across the room at Diana, his body clenching with awareness. He’d met her a month ago when she and her sisters had arrived at the illicit club in the middle of the night. Diana’s sister, Emily, had been in search of her fiancé. But the ladies had put both their reputations and the club’s secret nature at risk by going there. Even worse, one of Darlington’s enemies knew the ladies had been there.
As a result, Exile and his friends had agreed to keep watch over the Chase women. Make sure they didn’t expose their secret or run into trouble themselves. A promise Exile couldn’t regret more. Every time he looked at Diana, his breath froze in his chest like a bloody schoolboy with his first crush.
Darlington caught sight of Exile and headed straight for him. Inside Exile swore a string of curses. He should have refused to come here tonight. He should have stayed home. But he’d made a promise and the stakes of that promise had gotten more serious the past few days.
“You came,” Darlington rumbled as he reached out his hand to shake Exile’s.
Exile gave a single nod, making certain not to look at Diana. “Aye. I came.”
“I suppose you’re both worried after the incident with Cordelia….” Diana spoke from his left.
He still didn’t look at her but that didn’t stop her voice from vibrating through him. It was stronger and more confident than many women but beautifully musical with high, rich tones. The sound struck a chord deep inside him.
He turned toward her then, his heart stopping as he looked into those deep, dark brown eyes, fringed with long, black lashes. She was tall for a woman, allowing him to really drink in the details of her face as he himself was well over six feet. Her straight nose was punctuated by the tiniest upturn at the end, her full lips begged to be kissed, her high cheekbones only accentuating that fact.
Diana’s dark hair was piled atop her head in a soft coif that made him long to touch the strands and he gripped his thigh to keep his hand in place. “Can’t be too careful,” he murmured, still drinking in every detail. Her dress came well off the shoulder, exposing her delicate skin and showing her cleavage. He’d like to kiss a path down her neck and over her shoulder, cutting across her chest and—
“With the Countess of Abernath loose about London, we must be very careful when we’re out in public,” Darlington spoke in a low voice, bending his head so as not to be overheard. He likely needn’t have bothered, the room was so loud, Exile could barely hear himself think.
“Let’s step outside. We’ll be able to hear each other out there.” Minnie wrapped her arm through her husband’s and they both moved toward the open doors.
Exile had no choice but to hold out his elbow to Diana. As her delicate fingers slipped into his elbow, he flexed the muscles in his arm attempting to curb his reaction to her touch. “Did Cordelia and Malice successfully leave for Dover?”
Diana nodded. “They did. Cordelia seemed very relieved to have left London after what the countess did.”
Exile grimaced. Darlington’s former fiancée, the Countess of Abernath, had stolen Cordelia from her own home. She’d been attempting to blackmail Cordelia into exposing the club and Darlington’s involvement. “Can’t say that I blame her. I’m surprised ye’ve come out at all.”