LITMIR.BIZ

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right now, given the path his heir had decided to follow. As if he wasn’t disappointing enough as it was.

      ‘Ready and waiting, guv. Er...I mean, Your Grace.’

      ‘No need to stand on ceremony, Barker. You know me too well for that.’ Barker had dragged him home half-seas over too many times after long nights of talking to his eyes and ears in London’s lowest taverns to scrape and bow to his title.

      Barker grinned. ‘Right you are, then, guv. Time we were off.’

      Freddy grinned back. Whatever happened, tonight was going to be unpleasant, but at least it wouldn’t be boring. Minette Rideau was never dull.

      When he arrived at Gosports’ house he saw that he had timed his arrival to perfection. The receiving line had already abandoned its post at the head of the stairs, his host and hostess off enjoying their party. He slipped the butler a coach wheel. The man closed his fist over the silver coin and agreed there was no need to announce a latecomer, particularly since he’d come at the behest of another guest.

      Following the sound of music, Freddy ascended the stairs to the first floor and located the ballroom. A large drawing room with the furniture removed and a three-man orchestra at one end.

      Minette, in proper debutante white, looked glorious, her face flushed, her eyes sparkling as she pirouetted beneath the arm of a fresh-faced youth. This was what a girl like her should be doing. Dancing. Flirting. Establishing herself in society. It would be a shame to spoil all that, but if he had to he would tell Gabe what she’d been up to and have her sent to rusticate at his country house until they had Moreau firmly in their grasp.

      Her glance met his across the room. He stilled. Caught by the laughing brightness of her face. His chest tightened. She wouldn’t be smiling at him by the end of the evening. Most likely she’d hate him. The thought made him feel colder than usual. He scanned the room, found Gabe and Nicky standing with a group of friends. He took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders.

      ‘Freddy. I didn’t know you would be here tonight.’ Arthur Stone’s cheerful greeting at his back had him spinning around.

      Arthur, his cousin, put out a hand to steady him. Freddy gritted his teeth, avoided the clutching hand and smiled. ‘A surprise to me, too.’

      The slow-top frowned his puzzlement. ‘It is good to see you, Freddy.’ He winced. ‘I suppose I should be calling you Duke now or Falconwood.’

      ‘Freddy will do, cuz. Falconwood sounds too much like Father to me.’

      His cousin’s open countenance cleared of worry. He had a naturally cheerful disposition and a dullness of intellect Freddy found hard work, but he was a nice enough chap. ‘It’s hard to believe the old fellow’s been gone more than a year, isn’t it?’ His cousin glanced about him, pity in his eyes. ‘There are some chairs over there by the wall if you need to sit down. I’d be more than happy sit and keep you company.’

      Pity for Freddy’s lame leg. Along with the unease people generally felt around someone less than whole. Not to mention a man whose mother had accused him of making a play for the dukedom. A charge levelled behind his back but never laid to his face. Fratricide. The unspoken word lingered in the air like the smell of rotten eggs.

      Rather than offering to plant the man a facer, Freddy ignored the suggestion that he sit, along with those other unspoken sentiments. ‘How is the family?’

      ‘The boys are just like me at their age, full of pluck.’ His face beamed with pride.

      Freddy liked that most about his cousin, his love of his boys. ‘I imagine they have grown a great deal since I saw them last.’

      ‘You really ought to pay us a visit. I’ll have Liz send you an invitation.’

      He couldn’t think of anything worse. If Arthur was oversolicitous, his wife vacillated between offers to help the poor benighted invalid and the secret worry that he might yet marry, beget a family of his own and cut out her sons. He had the feeling she agreed with the old duke, his father, that if his older brother had to die in the accident, when they had been little more than boys on the cusp of manhood, it would have been better if Freddy had found the decency to accompany his brother to the pearly gates.

      The old man was likely right. And if Freddy had been a kinder man, he would set Liz’s mind at rest. He had no intention of passing on what his father had called, on good days, the taint in his blood.

      He watched Minette chattering to the woman beside her in the set and found the tension in his shoulders easing. ‘Perhaps I’ll come down during hunting season.’

      ‘Hunting?’ Anxiety creased Arthur’s brow. ‘It’s rough country, you know.’ His brow smoothed out. ‘Shooting, you mean. The very thing. We can carry a chair out with us in case...’ He seemed to realise his words were not going down all that well. ‘See how you feel on the day, what?’

      Such a dolt, his heir who would one day inherit the dukedom. Biting back the words, he bowed. ‘If you will excuse me, I need a drink.’

      He found his way to the refreshment table and had the lackey pour him a brandy. A few minutes with Arthur always left him ready for murder. Guilt pushing to the forefront, no doubt. Glass in hand, he watched Gabe and Nicky chat with friends, but could not bring himself to join them. He hated to break up what looked like a merry party. Such a handsome couple and the darlings of the ton.

      Three years ago he would have wagered his best horse that Gabe would never marry. What must it be like? Marriage? And now incipient fatherhood. The emptiness inside him seemed to expand at the reminder of his vow. He downed the brandy as the group around his friends dispersed and walked over to join them.

      ‘Quelle surprise,’ Nicky said, greeting him with obvious pleasure. ‘I thought you must be hibernating somewhere in the country it is so long since we saw you.’

      Gabe rolled his eyes. ‘Stop prying.’ He gave Freddy an intense look. ‘Everything all right?’

      ‘Perfect.’

      They both knew it for a lie, but there were too many ears in such a public place to say more. Gabe was no longer involved in espionage. He was part of the establishment now. It was certainly not the right place to reveal what his ward had been up to. Indeed, Freddy hoped that tonight’s conversation with Minette would put a halt to any need to do so. The set came to an end and Minette tripped back to her sister, her lovely face radiant. She dipped a curtsey to Freddy. ‘Your Grace. How unexpected.’

      Minx. She knew he’d have no choice but to gather the information she’d promised. He forced himself to ignore the way his blood stirred at the saucy look she cast up at him from beneath thick russet lashes. Somehow she managed to convey all manner of wickedness with a glance beyond any demure English miss. The French called it je ne sais quois. Whatever it was, it exuded from her skin like sensual perfume.

      But he was not completely lacking in the charm department, as more than one woman had told him. Though he suspected it was his title they found alluring. ‘Miss Rideau. May I compliment you on your appearance? The other ladies present are no doubt gnashing their teeth.’

      Her amber eyes danced with laughter, while her expression remained innocent. ‘Or perhaps they are jealous because I am the only unmarried lady such a great personage has deigned to speak with this evening. You only have to dance with me to completely ruin their night.’

      Beside him, Nicky shifted. She knew he could not dance and was tender-hearted enough not to want him embarrassed. Strangely, though, Minette’s words warmed him deep inside. It was as if she had not noticed his halting gait. Or thought nothing of it. The girl certainly had a way, like no other, of catching him off guard. He kept his face impassive. ‘I do not dance, but let us take a stroll about the room, unless you have another partner waiting for this next set?’

      ‘Oh, pooh. ’Tis only Granby and he is nowhere to be seen.’ She placed her hand on his arm. ‘He must have forgotten.’

      The

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