“I’m sorry,” Elise whispered. “What must you think of me?”

      “That you’re the most intriguing woman I’ve ever known,” Drake said as he reached for her hand. “I don’t think you’re silly. Tell me why you’re afraid.”

      Elise pulled away, a lonely ache forming in her chest at that moment. “What is it, sweet?” Drake reached for her hand again. “Come back to me. Don’t go.”

      Elise fought the temptation to lean on a person other than herself or her sister. She wanted to open up to Drake, share a deeper bond, but what could she say that wouldn’t spur more questions and the revelation of her darkest secrets? She wanted to trust him, but in reality he was little more than a stranger….

      CARLA CAPSHAW

      Florida native Carla Capshaw is a preacher’s kid who grew up grateful for her Christian home and loving family. Always dreaming of being a writer and world traveler, she followed her wanderlust around the globe, including a year spent in the People’s Republic of China, before beginning work on her first novel.

      A two-time RWA Golden Heart Award winner, Carla loves passionate stories with compelling, nearly impossible conflicts. She’s found inspirational historical romance is the perfect vehicle to combine lush settings, vivid characters and a Christian worldview. Currently at work on her next manuscript for Steeple Hill Love Inspired Historical, she still lives in Florida, but is always planning her next trip…and plotting her next story.

      Carla loves to hear from readers. To contact her, visit www.carlacapshaw.com or write to [email protected].

      The Duke’s Redemption

      Carla Capshaw

      God is our refuge and strength;

       always ready to help in times of trouble.

      —Psalms 46:1

      Dedicated to:

      My wonderful family.

       I love each one of you!

      My first critique partners—Carole McPhee,

       Lydia Hawke and Mary Veelle—who read and reread this book without ever complaining. Also, Sheila Raye, Paisley Kirkpatrick, Stacey Kayne and Jean Mason. I appreciate you more than I can say.

      As always, thank You, Lord!

      Contents

      Prologue

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Chapter Fourteen

      Chapter Fifteen

      Chapter Sixteen

      Chapter Seventeen

      Chapter Eighteen

      Chapter Nineteen

      Chapter Twenty

      Epilogue

      Questions for Discussion

      Prologue

      Charles Towne, South Carolina

       December 1780

      The cold muzzle of a pistol scraped her temple. The hammer cocked a warning beside her ear. A familiar voice rasped, “Don’t move, Fox, or I’ll be forced to relieve you of your thinking power.”

      Elise Cooper froze in the middle of her escape through the tavern’s second-story window. Her hands gripped either side of the narrow frame, one booted foot on the floor, one planted on the sill. A chilly, smoke-tinged breeze swept through the open space, ruffling her long cloak and loose black breeches.

      Hawk had startled her, but she wasn’t concerned about the weapon. The real danger lurked outside. Her gaze never left the moonlit alley that cut behind the tavern. More redcoats crept from the darkness.

      “Hawk,” she said, thankful her mask helped disguise not only her face, but her voice, “we have no time for your nonsense tonight. Blow out the candle and hurry your pace. Redcoats are infesting the room downstairs and may suspect we’re here.”

      “Of a certainty, they do,” he replied. “You’ve finally been bagged. Your days as a spy have come to an end.”

      Elise released an exasperated sigh. Hawk, the alias by which she knew him, possessed a fiendish sense of humor. To protect her identity as a woman, she always wore a mask when disguised as the Fox. Though he’d refused to tell her why, Hawk wore one, too. Neither had ever seen the face of the other, but she’d been privy to his games on more than one occasion. She fully expected him to lower the pistol and howl with laughter. He thought himself astoundingly clever, but under the circumstances, she found him most trying. “Cease this, Hawk. We have no time to linger. The English—”

      “Are coming,” he interrupted gleefully. “Yes, I know. I arranged this meeting. The soldiers are awaiting my signal to make your arrest. I’ll be rewarded quite handsomely once I deliver you to my superiors.”

      Surprised to hear the pride in his voice, she tried to turn and look him in the eye. He jammed the muzzle harder against her temple. “I said don’t move.”

      The menace in his tone convinced her he was serious. Her stomach lurched with fear. Anger blazed through her. “Why hand me over now when you’ve had the opportunity to do so for well over a year?”

      He chuckled. “And give up my play? I think not. Posing as the Hawk has been quite amusing. Sadly, my superiors have ordered your arrest. Since we work so often together, they chose me to do the deed.”

      Elise bristled at how easily he betrayed her. “And the ransom being offered didn’t hurt, I suppose. If I may ask, when did you become a turncoat?”

      He stiffened in response. “Turncoat? Not I. My loyalty has always been to my king and England.”

      Her eyes searched the back alley in hope of seeing a loyal fellow who might aid in her escape. No one appeared save another pair of redcoats. There were eight of them now. Their freshly polished Hessian boots gleamed in the moonlight.

      As the gravity of her situation compounded, her thoughts raced in time to her quickening heart. The enemy soldiers moved closer, their indistinct voices carried on the breeze.

      “If you’re no traitor, explain the many secrets that have passed from your hand to mine?”

      “I’ve shared only what my superiors wanted you rebel scum to know. Remember last month, when I sent you the message about supply wagons leaving Charles Towne for Savannah?”

      “Of course.” She tried to ease away from the pistol. The Colonial army never ceased being desperate for supplies. At the time, the information she’d carried from Hawk to her spymaster had been considered a boon. “Then the attack was a trap. It seemed too coincidental. Did you assist in the murder of those men yourself?”

      He laughed. “What do you think?”

      She broke into a clammy sweat. If Hawk succeeded in turning her in, she doubted even