Page 1 of An Offer By the Beastly Duke

Chapter One

“Has anyone seen Nicholas?” Lady Romwich’s shout of alarm rang through her countryside estate.

Her heels struck the corridor’s marble flooring as she checked every room she passed for her son. In her chest, her heart was a fevered pound with every empty space she found.

In the expanse of Romwich Hall, her son, Nicholas, was nowhere to be found. She tried to calm her breathing, but the air was dry and stagnant, and she couldn’t hear even the whisper of a maid’s duster or footsteps going from room to room as work was completed.

Penelope’s brows pinched, hair falling from its perfect style from dinner that evening. She had last seen Nicholas as they’d eaten, not since.

Her skirts swished against the floorboards as she continued on, passing the vacant library, the music room that hadn’t been used in far too long, and finally, the dining hall.

Think, Penelope, think, she told herself.

Pausing for a moment, taking in the scent of beeswax from the extinguished candles, and heavy mahogany furniture, she tried to recall what Nicholas had said over dinner. Heavens, her child spoke so much it was hard to keep up.

I think I would like to keep testing my aim, Nicholas had said. Penelope straightened, her fingers gripping the doorway of the eating hall. I am good enough with a bow and arrow, but I have seen the village boys toss stones in the creek. They are creating a dam!

Penelope had hummed distractedly—she was always distracted since moving to the countryside a couple of weeks prior—and had assumed he was merely voicing a thought.

Had he… meant that he wanted to go right away?

Her heart stuttered.

He’d said something else—something about the boys all being older than him, and he wanted to prove himself, especially as a newcomer to Brigrock, the lively village Penelope had moved to.

But the creek… that was near the⁠—

“Heavens,” Penelope whispered, her heart thoroughly dropping to the floor. She hadn’t even told him no, had been too busy thinking about the invitation to a garden party due to happen in a couple days, but now…

Now she gripped the nearest windowsill, staring out in horror at the dark night outside.

Whirling around, she rushed back down the corridor. Nobody had answered her earlier cry of alarm, but she headed for the dining room.

She knew, if anything, her housekeeper, Mrs. Guildbury, would be ensuring all was in order after the day. Almost catching herself on the elbow within the doorway, Penelope found her housekeeper and tried to catch her breath.

“My son, Mrs. Guildbury,” she gasped out. Her fingers gripped the doorway. “Have you seen him since dinner?”

Immediately, the woman’s eyes widened. “I haven’t, my lady. The last I saw, he was finishing his dessert and asking me to pass on a compliment to the chef.” Despite her pinched, worried expression, Mrs. Guildbury smiled a little at Nicholas’ growing liveliness.

“Did you see what direction he went in after that?” Penelope pressed.

Mrs. Guildbury shook her head. “Regretfully, no, but I do know he often spends his evenings in the late Earl’s study. Either there or the gallery. You do know how he asks of his father.”

Penelope’s heart sank the way it always did when she thought of Nicholas’ inquisition over the father he had never truly known. She nodded. “I shall check the study,” she said. “Thank you.”

“I’ll have a look in the gallery,” Mrs. Guildbury said. “I will send Mr. Ashton to check anywhere else.”

Penelope nodded again, grateful for her housekeeper having the butler assist. She didn’t dare waste another moment before hurrying to the study. It had been perhaps two hours since dinner, and darkness had long blanketed the countryside.

Nicholas was seven years old, so young but with a mind that was growing more and more curious and wise. A mind that pulled him to any adventure and learning he could find.

If he thought his next lesson was at the creek then he would have sought it out without a second thought to how small he truly was in such a dark expanse of space.

Surely…

Surely he would have more sense than to wander off to the creek at such an hour. Hope rose in her that she had taught him enough caution, so she pushed open the study door.

Usually, whenever Nicholas spent time in there—which Penelope didn’t stop him from doing—he lit a candle and would practice writing to impress his tutor the following day.