Page 14 of To Ensnare a Duke

"Seems as if today is a day for bad news." I toss my own letter down next to his and note the pallor of his face.

"I thought I was the only victim in this. That they would leave you alone if I complied with what they asked."

One by one, the others produce similar letters and put them down on the desk. "I was going to meet up with the other dukes," Whiteport says, jabbing his finger at the thickly laid ink. "I cannot say whether or not those not in attendance have received one as well, but seeing as we are all victims of this machination, it's safe to assume."

"But why me?" Lord Hardon asks, red tingeing his face as he brings up his letter to reread it silently. "As of this moment, I am only friends with Portswell and have no sway of anyone, much less him. What does he think to accomplish by threatening me?"

Redleigh rubs his chin as he paces. "It is because you appear to have some influence. I know from talking with him that Portswell considers you with the same affection he does us, which puts you in harm's way."

With a growl, the viscount slams a fist against his desk, the stench of anger rolling off of him. "But to threaten me in such a vague way?" He waves the paper around. "You will regret not working with us. Whatever can they imply?"

"Anything, unfortunately," I muse. "You don't think this has anything to do with your crops, do you? A sort of warning?"

"That, I can say for sure, is a no. Based on the correspondence and what we've been seeing in regard to the uprisings, I'm just a fellow casualty of the military and their massive horses. If they wanted to send me a sign, they'd have to do something far more ostentatious."

"Fair," I muse. Gathering all the notes in my hands, I spread them out and look at the similarities and differences. All say to watch for further communication but have no other commands. "Have we considered the fact that this might be a prank?"

Norhaven grabs his letter and skims it again. "Possibly, but if it is, it's in poor taste. Not that I would join any cadre or faction that stands in opposition to the king. Just penning this is treasonous. I don't think someone looking for a lark would dare do such."

"Some have dared more," Whiteport responds. "Unfortunately, until more is brought to light, there is nothing any of us can do. They still want us to await further communication, so until then, I say we remain vigilant and keep in touch if anything suspicious happens."

"Too long has the monarchy ruled with an infantile fist," I read out loud, my words harsh and guttural. "Levies are given to some and not others. The House of Lords rule over parliament but have no actual power. Some would see that power combined, and the counties ruled by the titleholders who were granted that land. We rule them already. Why answer to a higher power who cares nothing of our plights when we can band together to help our own interests?"

"To me," Whiteport chimes in. "This sounds like someone who is already one of the peerages. The use of the word we denotes kinship with us in a way that supersedes friendship. But who would dare call for an uprising in parliament and ask for our aid in that endeavor? It must be someone quite daft."

"True," Norhaven agrees. "We seven," he glances over at Lord Hardon. "Or eight, I suppose, have been a tight-knit group with nothing but loyalty to the crown. I suspect it's because of where we're situated. Most of our lands are bordered by water, making them good for trade and travel. If they can get to us, they will control a large section of England, making it easier to bring all sorts of mischief into our borders."

Whiteport rests his lips against his knuckle, deep in thought. "Yes. That must be it. Either way, I say we table this discussion until more has been revealed."

I clap a hand on Lord Hardon's shoulder and grin. "I concur. Besides, I'm not sure what state we will find all the ladies in when we go to collect them."

Redleigh groans and shakes his head. "Miss Cappelli will no doubt run them all amuck. She's been such a handful."

"Worse than Miss Campbell?" Norhaven asks. "To hear my sisters speak of her, she's one escapade short of being a hoyden."

"I suppose I should be grateful for Augusta then. Just as long as your ladies do not steer her down the wrong path. For the most part, she is gentle and most agreeable. A demure paragon of femininity."

"Boast not," Whiteport growls, his tone teasing. "For soon you will have to deal with suitors. Let's hope she keeps her wits when they all come calling."

With a smirk, I cross my arms. "Indeed. This journey of yours seems quite convenient. You mean to tell me you did not plan it this way?"

He shakes his head and holds out his hands. "Forsooth if I were not needed, I'd be here to wage war against the cads and rakes. It goes against everything in me to force you to assist me in doing so."

"Verily," we all say at once as we exit the study.

Quiet fills the house, driving me forward. With six young omegas under one roof, it's not customary for things to be so silent. Where's the tittering laughter, the teasing? Surely, they can't be at odds already.

When Lord Hardon opens the door, all eyes turn to us, wide as they take in our figures. More like plotting something then. Lady Hunt rises from the pack and smiles at us, a predatory gleam in her eyes. Or is that just a shaft of light illuminating her in the wrong way? As soon as I see it, it's gone, leaving me to wonder.

"So good of you to join us, gentlemen."

"I'm afraid they can't tarry long, sister. They must collect their siblings and away."

Again, her full, luscious lips turn down into a pout. "Surely not without a bit of entertainment. However shall I learn to host if there is none about to practice on?"

Off in the corner, Aunt Amelia Hunt bobs her head, barely keeping her eyes open. Such good fortune for them, Lady Hunt strives not to take advantage of her guardian's altered state. It does make me wonder if I should enquire after a finishing governess for their family just to help polish her up in the absence of her mother.

"Can't you practice on your aunt? I'm sure she'll be quick to tell you where any fault might lie," I inquire, studying her face.