Sins of a Duke by Suzanne Enoch Read Free Book Online Page A

England building, she leaned past Mr. Orrin, her father’s business advisor, to look through the window. A short, portly man with a sparse peppering of gray hair stood there. Beside him and wearing dark blue and gray, stood the much taller and leaner figure of Melbourne.
    “Right on time,” her father muttered, stepping to the ground and offering his hand. “A very good sign.”
    She hoped so. As Melbourne faced their approach, she could practically feel his dark gray gaze on her skin, even through the elegant emerald-colored gown she’d worn for the occasion. Josefina resisted the urge to touch the small silver tiara woven into her hair—she’d only worn it once before and considered it a bit much, but as her father had said, this was the meeting that would dictate the course of their future.
    “Your Majesty, Your Highness,” the duke said, inclining his head, “may I present Sir Henry Sparks, director of the Bank of England? Sir Henry, Stephen, Rey of Costa Habichuela and his daughter, Princess Josefina.”
    The bank director bowed low, much more respectfully than Melbourne had. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Your Majesty, Your Highness. His Grace tells me that you have some business you wish to discuss.”
    “Indeed we do,” her father said with an easy smile.
    “Then let’s go inside to my office.”
    As they followed Sir Henry into the large building, employees and clients alike stopped to watched them pass. They probably recognized Melbourne, but she and her father and their advisor and two bodyguards must have made an impression, as well.
    They sat in front of a large mahogany desk set in the middle of the small but well-appointed office. Sir Henry offered the seat behind the desk to Melbourne, but the duke declined, instead leaning a haunch against a low credenza. Orrin stood directly behind her father.
    “Now, Your Majesty,” the banker began, “what may I—and the Bank of England—do for you?”
    “Before I answer that,” her father returned, “perhaps I might give you a little information about myself and Costa Habichuela.”
    “Of course.”
    “I was born in Cornwall, and thanks to my family’s influence, bought a lieutenant’s commission in the army when I turned seventeen. After ten years I found myself growing restless, sold what had become a captaincy, and decided to travel.”
    “That’s very admirable,” Sir Henry commented. Josefina didn’t think he meant it as a compliment. He would.
    “Thank you. It was when I reached the northeast coast of South America, however, that my true adventure began. I hadn’t been there long when I began hearing of the oppressive Spanish rule, and of a growing move to force Spain to give up her American territories. At this same time I gained an introduction to General Simon Bolivar, achampion of the people. Apparently he was as impressed with me as I was with him, because he offered me a position as a major under his command.
    “For years we fought together, driving the Spanish out of town after town, valley after valley. I gained a promotion to colonel under my own command, in the meantime meeting and marrying my wife, Maria Costanza-y-Veneza, and having a daughter, Josefina.”
    “This is all fascinating, Your Majesty, but—”
    “Please allow me to finish, Sir Henry,” her father broke in. “I assure you, this all has relevance.”
    “Go on,” Melbourne said quietly. Much more than Sir Henry, Josefina guessed, he was assessing her father’s words. After all, if the bank decided to issue bonds to aid the development of Costa Habichuela, it would be in part because of him. Even in Jamaica, everyone knew of the Griffin family and their impeccable reputation and unmatched power and influence. Yes, the investment was a sound, low-risk one, but Melbourne as much as Sir Henry needed to be convinced of that.
    “My men and I were on a sweep of the eastern coast of Central America, on our way south to rendezvous with the main army. We came