Lord of Fortune Read online

  Lord of Fortune

  Darcy Burke

  Contents

  Lord of Fortune

  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

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  Thank You!

  Books by Darcy Burke

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Lord of Fortune

  Dashing adventurer Penn Bowen is dedicated to preserving Britain’s history and his carefree, bachelor lifestyle. He’s happiest when he’s in pursuit of knowledge and the occasional liaison with the right woman. So he’s more than a little perturbed when the wrong woman inserts herself into his latest quest—proving that a valuable artifact in Oxford’s museum is a fake. Amelia Gardiner is smart and capable...and determined to prove that Penn is wrong about the treasure her grandfather found.

  * * *

  Amelia won’t allow Penn to denigrate her family’s legacy, and she certainly won’t join the ranks of women who throw themselves at his feet. As secretive and dangerous factions infiltrate their hunt, Amelia and Penn must work together to stay one step ahead. But passion ignites between them and suddenly their alliance is more than a simple convenience. When peril strikes too close, they’ll risk everything they hold dear: family, honor, and a chance for the greatest treasure of all—love.

  Don’t miss the rest of the Legendary Rogues!

  Have you read The Untouchables? Society’s most elite bachelors and the wallflowers and widows who bring them to their knees!

  Plus, try my best-selling Secrets and Scandals series—the first book is free!

  Love romance? Have a free book (or two or three) on me!

  Sign up at http://www.darcyburke.com/readerclub for members-only exclusives, including advance notice of pre-orders and insider scoop, as well as contests, giveaways, freebies, and 99 cent deals!

  Want to share your love of my books with like-minded readers? Want to hang with me and get inside scoop? Then don’t miss my exclusive Facebook groups!

  Darcy’s Duchesses for historical readers

  Burke’s Book Lovers for contemporary readers

  Lord of Fortune

  Copyright © 2018 Darcy Burke

  All rights reserved.

  * * *

  ISBN: 1939713641

  ISBN-13: 9781939713643

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Book design: © Darcy Burke.

  Book Cover Design © Sweet n Spicy Designs

  Photo copyright: © Period Images

  Editing: Linda Ingmanson

  All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the author.

  ISBN: 978-1-939713-64-3

  Created with Vellum

  For Theresa and Kelly and Elizabeth and all the other readers who asked me to continue this series and who love these books.

  Thank you!

  Chapter 1

  August 1818, Wiltshire, England

  A fine sheen of sweat beaded across Penn Bowen’s forehead as he dangled from the rope and reached for the slick side of the cave. The lantern his assistant dangled from the opening fifteen feet above him cast a meager glow into the large space, but he’d known he’d be operating in the near dark. It was no worse than he’d managed before. In fact, it was a bit better than some of the situations he’d found himself in.

  He scanned the wall of rock, left to right, top to bottom, searching for the small opening that would lead him to his prize. A darker spot drew his eye about five feet to his right and above his head. He squinted into the inky dark to confirm it was what he sought. Damn, it was very small.

  Clenching his jaw, he swung toward the wall, aiming for the hole. The rope felt as sturdy as it had when he’d lowered himself a few minutes before. He was also comforted by the presence of his very capable assistant, Egg, who would ensure Penn didn’t drop the fifty or so feet to the cave floor. Most of it was likely sandy and soft, but there were rocks too, and he’d no desire to end his adventures in such a fashion.

  A few feet short of the hole, he grasped a small outcropping of rock and brought himself flush against the cool limestone. Finding purchase with his hands and feet, he let go of the rope, though it remained tied around his waist—a measure Egg had insisted upon. Tentatively, he sought another handhold to bring himself closer to the hole. It was a bit of a stretch, but he managed to wrap his fingers around another, albeit smaller, outcropping. Now to get his lower half in the same direction.

  He searched for another foothold, his boots scraping against the coarse rock. Finding a small shelf, he put his right foot there and took the left one off the other foothold. A cascade of dirt fell down the hole through which he’d descended, distracting him momentarily. His boot slipped from the rock. He hung suspended for a few seconds, his heart launching into his throat and his pulse beating at a frenzied pace.

  “Sorry about that!” Egg’s voice boomed into the cavern, further disrupting Penn’s concentration.

  Penn didn’t know what had caused the disruption of earth, nor did he care, so long as it didn’t happen again. He closed his eyes for a bare moment and willed himself to move. He found his footing once more and successfully brought his left foot to perch beside the right. He exhaled and told himself to hurry the hell up.

  The hole was just above his head now. Holding on to the rock with his left hand, he reached up with his right and slid his hand into the opening. It barely fit. It was a good thing he hadn’t worn gloves, an argument he’d won with Egg earlier. “But the rope will burn your ’ands!” Egg had insisted.

  “I can grab rock much more easily with my bare fingers,” Penn had said. “I’ll take the potential rope burn.” As if it mattered. Penn’s hands were not the manicured, pampered hands of a scholar or worse, a nobleman. His were the rough and ready appendages of someone who lived the most of each moment, experiencing as many adventures as possible. But of course, he was also a scholar, just not the typical sort.

  The hole was cold and narrow. He met a bit of resistance at the top and pushed his hand past it. The rock dug through his flesh, slicing through nerve and sinew. He winced and silently swore. Egg would berate him for not wearing gloves.

  Just when he feared he wouldn’t be able to reach back any farther without jeopardizing his position, his hand plunged into a void. Opening his fingers, he felt around—there was a ceiling to the hole, but the bottom had fallen away. Pressing himself tight against the rock so that the rough surface abraded his cheek, he stretched his fingers and felt down into the void.

  And found what he was looking for.

  Relief coursed through him, and he smiled as he wrapped his fingers around a cold metal shaft that was maybe six inches long. Clutching the artifact in his fist, he withdrew his hand cautiously, going slow lest he scrape his hand again. When he reached that spot, he couldn’t get past it. Fisted, his hand was now too large. Hell and the bloody devil.

  S
weat broke out along the back of his neck. Urging calm, he loosened his grip, careful to retain hold of the artifact between his thumb and fingers. It was exceptionally lucky that this piece was narrow, but then it would have to be in order to be placed in this spot in the first place.

  He continued, aware that he was likely going to reinjure himself. The rock cut into him once more, creating a new wound so he would have two. Spectacular.

  Once past the obstacle, he tightened his grip on the artifact and quickly pulled his hand out. Though tempted to look at it, he didn’t, instead stowing it into a pocket sewn inside his waistcoat.

  Confident the item was secure, he gripped the rope with his right hand, then withdrew his left to climb. “Coming up!” he called to Egg. He pulled himself up, hand over hand, as the slack curled from his waist.

  The light above him moved as Egg withdrew the lantern from the hole. A moment later, Penn reached for the edge of the rock. Egg’s hand came over his, and he grabbed the back of Penn’s waistcoat, hauling him into the upper cave.

  The rock scraped over Penn’s midsection and thighs. Egg let go, then helped him turn and sit up. No sooner had Penn withdrawn his legs from the hole than Egg demanded, “What the bloody ’ell did you do to your ’and?” He reached for Penn’s right hand, but Penn scrambled to his feet.

  “Nothing. Well, barely anything,” he amended, knowing Egg would argue with him. Egg would argue with the Regent if he thought he was right. And Egg almost universally thought he was right. “Never mind it now. Just take care of the rope, will you?”

  Egg frowned up at Penn from his five feet six inches, his weathered face carved with deep canyons from the years he’d spent outdoors. His dark eyes narrowed, and he muttered to himself as he set about looping up the rope.

  “I found it, if you care to know.” Penn removed the artifact from his coat and moved closer to the lantern. He squatted down and placed the item on his left palm.

  There were etchings in the gold hilt of the iron dagger, deep and quite legible. Indeed, the hilt didn’t look right at all. Penn frowned.

  “And there it is,” Egg said softly. He was always as thrilled as Penn to unearth a new treasure. Always.

  “Yes, there it is.” The words hadn’t come from Penn or Egg.

  Penn closed his hand around the dagger and rose to his full height. He turned toward the mouth of the cave where a lone figure blocked the entrance. Due to the daylight behind him, the man was unidentifiable. However, the cock of his pistol was not. Make that two pistols, for he held one in each hand.

  “Thank you for taking care of the difficulty of finding it,” the man said. “Please have your companion deliver it to me.”

  “Why not me?” Penn asked, his mind racing. His small knife was tucked beneath his waistcoat, but he couldn’t reach for it without prompting the stranger to perhaps shoot him. Egg, however, had a knife at his side, and the stranger wasn’t watching him as closely. He’d be able to employ it while Penn pretended to deliver the artifact. Which, of course, he had absolutely no intention of actually doing.

  The stranger, whose face was mostly covered by a neckerchief, trained a pistol between Penn’s eyes. “Your companion looks far more amenable. Send him, or I’ll start shooting.”

  He thought Egg looked more amenable? Penn wanted to laugh. Egg was as surly as they came. Or could be, at least. “I don’t think you will,” Penn said softly, hoping to unnerve the man with a lack of concern while edging forward. “Why on earth would you want a silly old dagger?”

  The man barked out a laugh. “Do you take me for a fool?”

  This miscreant knew the value of this find, that it was an important treasure that could change the face of history. This knowledge was highly guarded—only a handful of people were informed. Which meant this man was either one of them or an associate hired by one of them. Whoever he was, he would leave here empty-handed.

  Penn clasped the dagger. “Indeed I do if you intend to steal this from me.”

  “Must I really shoot you?”

  Penn looked askance at Egg. “D and C,” he whispered. Divide and conquer. They’d done this many times.

  Egg gave an infinitesimal nod.

  “Now,” Penn breathed as he darted to the right while Egg went left.

  One of the pistols fired. Penn thrust the dagger back into his waistcoat as he scrambled along the edge of the cave. Reaching the mouth, he dove for the man, hitting him in his midsection and wrapping his arms around his back. They both went sprawling backward through the entrance into the light of day.

  “Oof!” The villain landed with a thud and an exhalation. He lifted his arm—likely so he could take another shot—but Penn knocked the pistol from his hand. The other pistol was gone.

  Penn stared down at the man, eager to see if he knew the brigand. The cloth covering his face had dislodged, exposing his features. Penn’s breath caught as he took in the unfamiliar face and the softness of her—her—body imprinted on his.

  “What the bloody devil are you doing?” Penn thundered.

  “Get off me!” she shrieked, raising her arms to push him away. Gone was the deep, clearly affected voice from the cave. Her tone was still darker, grittier than most females, but it was unequivocally female.

  Penn ignored her struggles even as she landed several blows against his chest. “Egg, do you have the weapons?” he asked.

  “I do now, sir.” He came abreast of them and sucked in a breath. “Blimey, it’s a woman!”

  Penn took in the soft arc of her cheekbone, the lush curve of her lip, the sparkling green of her eyes, and the blonde curls peeking from beneath her hat. “So it is.”

  “She nearly shot me,” Egg complained, his voice climbing. “Bullet whizzed past my ear, it did. If I were any slower…” He shook his head.

  She glared up at him, her eyes nearly as dangerous as the weapon she’d fired. “Get. Off. Me.”

  “Are you going to try to kill us again?”

  “You have my weapons,” she hissed.

  Penn lifted a shoulder. “So you say, but there might be more. Perhaps I should verify for myself.” He patted at her coat, and she renewed her efforts to beat him away from her.

  “What are you doing? Don’t touch me!”

  “I’m making sure you aren’t still armed. Forgive me if I don’t trust you.”

  “I’ll forgive you nothing, you scoundrel!”

  He felt down her abdomen. Despite the bulk of her men’s costume, she was quite slender and, as he’d recognized a few moments ago, soft. He grazed his hands over her hips, and his body seemed to realize he was astride a beautiful, curvaceous female. Beautiful? Oh yes, she was stunning. But then so were wolves, and Penn had no desire to tangle with one of them either.

  He pushed himself to the side and stood, offering her his hand to help her up.

  She glowered at him and rose on her own. “You’re despicable.”

  “And you’re a thief.”

  “Would-be, actually,” Egg clarified, ever the stickler for accuracy.

  “I’m not sure I believe that,” Penn said, keeping his gaze glued to the blazing-eyed virago. “I’m sure she’s stolen from others.”

  Egg snorted. “I’m not. She’s a fairly good shot, but she didn’t plan very well. Much better ways to steal—or at least try to—from you, sir.”

  “Please enlighten me,” she said.

  Penn had to admire her courage and her determination. More importantly, he had to wonder how in the hell she’d come to be here. “Who are you?” he asked.

  “That doesn’t matter. All you need to know is that dagger rightfully belongs to me.” Her hands tightened into fists at her sides, and as the gloves pulled over her slender knuckles, Penn wondered how he’d ever mistaken her for a man.

  Penn stared at her a moment, then laughed. Egg joined in. Amused and curious, Penn said, “I can’t begin to imagine how you arrived at that fantasy, nor can I puzzle how you even know about this artifact.” He sobered, narrow
ing his eyes at her. “How do you know about it?”

  She lifted her chin, her gaze coated in frost. “That doesn’t matter either.”

  Perhaps not, but it would bother him. Penn liked to have answers. “Well then, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be on our way.” Penn nodded toward Egg, who tucked the pistols into his waistband.

  “I’ll just grab our things.” Egg turned and disappeared into the cave.

  “You will not.” The spitfire lunged forward and grabbed Penn’s elbow. “That dagger is mine.”

  He dropped a perturbed look at where her fingers wrapped around him. “Unless you’d care to disclose why you think that, this interview is over.”

  Her jaw clenched tight. “I can’t let you take it.”

  “I’m afraid you have no choice. If you’d care to share information about how you even know about this treasure, perhaps we might come to an arrangement.” It was a bald-faced lie since he had no intention of relinquishing his find. But he was keen to learn her role in this.

  As she opened her mouth to speak, the all too familiar sound of a pistol cocking filled the air. Penn looked past her as she released her hold on him and spun about. Make that multiple pistols. Four men approached them, their weapons poised to shoot and the lower part of their faces covered with neckerchiefs so that only their eyes were visible beneath the shadows cast by the brims of their hats.

  “Bloody hell,” Penn muttered. “Friends of yours?”

  “No.” The tension weighing that single word was enough to tell him that she wasn’t with these new arrivals.

  Penn hoped that Egg was somehow aware of what was happening and would stay in the cave until he could find a way to turn the situation in their favor. In the meantime, he’d try to talk their way out of whatever was going on.