Duchess of Sin (8 page)

“Oh, I think you would be surprised by what I know.” He laid her carefully against the velvet cushions and took her hand in
his. He raised it again to his lips, his stare frighteningly solemn above their linked fingers.

She swallowed hard. He let go of her, and she quickly tucked her hand in a fold of her riding habit. “Perhaps we should maintain
that sense of mystery then, Your Grace, and stay away from each other.”

He laughed and that solemnity vanished. “Oh, Lady Anna, I am sure that would be very prudent. But I have the distinct sense
neither of us are prudent people, aye?”

Katherine climbed up into the carriage next to Anna, and Adair stepped back. The laughter was gone, but a smile still lingered
on his lips.

“Thank you for your assistance, Your Grace,” Katherine said. “However it came about, I am happy you were there to come to
my daughter’s aid.”

“As am I, Lady Killinan,” he answered. “Perhaps I might call in the next day or two to make sure Lady Anna suffers no ill
effects from her fall?”

Anna stared at him in shock. Just the thought of him calling in Henrietta Street was so—so prosaic. So ordinary. So very unlike
him. An Irish rebel, sitting in her mother’s drawing room taking tea?

She pressed her hand to her mouth to hold back a laugh. If she started giggling hysterically, her mother would be sure that
she injured her head and call in battalions of doctors.

Katherine arched her brow questioningly. She tilted her head, studying Adair with her cool blue eyes. “I suppose you may call,
yes, Your Grace. I would like to have more conversation with you. We are practically neighbors in Kildare, are we not?”

She nodded to the coachman, and the carriage lurched into motion. Anna glanced back over her shoulder to see that Adair watched
them leave. He lifted his hand in
farewell, then they turned the corner onto another lane, and he was gone.

“Oh, my dear,” Katherine sighed. “Such a very odd day.”

“Oh, yes,” Anna whispered. Odd indeed.

N
ow, on top of everything else, he had an assassin to track down.

Conlan watched Anna’s carriage until it vanished from view. She stared back at him, as if she wanted something, expected something,
from him. A puzzled frown creased her brow, but there was no fear in her eyes. Any other young English lady would have been
shrieking with panic after being shot at on her afternoon ride. After an initial flash of fear, Anna Blacknall just seemed—curious.
Just as she had been at the Olympian Club.

She wasn’t a woman to be easily frightened, that was clear. His barbaric behavior as he tried to get a reaction from Grant,
being thrown from her horse—being kissed to within an inch of insanity in the conservatory. None of it scared her for long.
Yet, in that instant when he first knelt beside her on the ground, he did see fear in her eyes. She didn’t seem to be there
at all, but someplace far away, plunged into some old nightmare.

Everyone who was in Ireland in ’98 had those nightmares, the fears and grief that never quite left. He couldn’t
afford sympathy for a pampered Society lady like Anna Blacknall. But in that moment, he had the overwhelming urge to hold
her close until all the panic was gone. He wanted to keep her safe.

Which was the very last thing he could do. It was his fault that she was in danger today in the first place. And he
would
find out who did it. Find them and make them sorry indeed.

The sound of laughter brought him back to the present moment. He shook away the image of Anna lying on the cold ground and
looked over his shoulder. Most of the crowd had dissipated, going home to prepare for their evening parties, but a few people
lingered. They watched him curiously. Perhaps they, like Lady Killinan, wondered why someone like him was back in Dublin now,
right as the Union issue was boiling toward crisis. Surely they whispered of the way trouble followed him everywhere.

Conlan could have told them the answer. All the McTeer men, back to the days of Brian Boru, were born with the dark mark,
the curse of leading a fractious, quarrelsome family who were only united in hatred of each other and the rest of the world.
The curse of trying to maintain their people and their ancient lands in a harsh country ruled by an iron-strong foreign power.
That had been his calling, his purpose, ever since he was born. It was hard, dangerous, and lonely work, and as Duke of Adair
it was his work alone.

But he had never seen
trouble
like Anna Blacknall. Trouble with golden hair, soft skin, and fine blue eyes that saw far too much. He certainly did not
need her kind of trouble, now of all times.

And now too much attention was on him. He glared
at the curious onlookers, sending them scattering into the park. Only one man remained: Grant Dunmore, Conlan’s long-lost
cousin.

If only he had stayed lost. He was the last person Conlan wanted to see now. Well, second to last—he did not especially want
to see Anna Blacknall at the moment, either.

He swung his dark glare onto Grant, who stood at the side of the lane holding the bridle of Anna’s horse. He didn’t flee like
the others, but neither did he come closer. Perhaps he remembered the beating Conlan once gave him during that bloody lawsuit
of his. The suit that tore the Irish branch of the family from the English once and for all.

Conlan didn’t have time to deal with Grant now, not as his cousin deserved. In only a few hours, the Olympian Club would open
for another night. And he had to go about catching a would-be murderer, one who wanted Conlan dead so much that they didn’t
care who else they hurt.

Or maybe the murderer stood before him now, his own kinsman.

Conlan scooped his battered hat from the ground, dusting off the gravel. “What are you doing here, Grant?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Why aren’t you skulking at Adair Court, as you have all these years?”

Conlan grinned, enjoying his cousin’s obvious pique. Conlan had stayed mostly out of sight since he came to Dublin, concentrating
his efforts on the Olympian Club and on meeting with his old contacts. But now his plans had to move forward, and he had to
gain more visibility. The Union vote would be soon. To judge by today’s dramatic events, he had succeeded too well.

Not that he enjoyed being shot at, even though he had too much experience of such things. And he definitely didn’t like Anna
Blacknall being caught in the bullet’s path. He would have to be even more cautious in the future and even more ruthless in
finding his enemies.

Some enemies, though, were obliging enough to appear right in front of him.

“Perhaps I am in Dublin for the very reasons you guessed, cousin,” Conlan said. “To enjoy the amenities only town can offer.
Such fair ladies in our capital city, wouldn’t you agree? And they’re so—accommodating.”

An angry red flush stained Grant’s face, and his fist tightened on the mare’s bridle, making her shy away. “You had best stay
far away from Lady Anna in the future! I don’t even want to hear you speak her name, let alone make your filthy insinuations.”

Well, well.
There appeared to be something between Lady Anna and Grant after all. That was useful knowledge. “I insinuate nothing about
Lady Anna. Any daughter of Lady Killinan must be above reproach, I’m sure.” Except when she donned a low-cut red gown and
snuck into a masked ball. But that contradiction was only part of Anna’s strange allure. “Even one who is with you.”

She was too good for Grant. A man like his cousin could never appreciate such a dichotomy in a woman, never tolerate complexity
or independence. He could see the world only one way, and his narrowness would crush Anna eventually, no matter how strong
or stubborn she was.

It was a shame.

Grant dropped the bridle and took a menacing step across the path. Conlan automatically braced himself
for a brawl, planting his feet firmly on the ground and stretching his fingers toward the dagger concealed under his coat.
But even as he did so, he knew it wasn’t needed. His cousin’s methods were much less direct than public brawling, and he never
dirtied his pretty hands himself.

“I don’t know what you think you understand about me, Adair,” Grant said, “but you
will
stay away from Lady Anna.”

“Such a storm of fury over the lady. Yet I have heard no betrothal announcements.”

Grant’s jaw tightened. “Things are different now, Adair. Ireland will soon be a part of Great Britain, a full part, and once
I am allied with the Killinan estate I will have as much power as you. More even, than some mere Irish title. You had best
watch your back.”

“As I had to today?” Conlan said, his tone deceptively bland.

“I had nothing to do with that! But I applaud whoever did.”

“Even if it put your fine fiancée in danger? How ruthless of you, Grant.”

“That was your fault, Adair!” Grant shouted. His temper obviously burned hotter and hotter under that elegant surface, even
as Conlan felt his own emotions covered with a layer of impervious ice. He couldn’t afford to give in to anger, to pummel
Grant Dunmore as he so deserved. This was a battle that had far too much at stake.

And he definitely could not be distracted by Anna Blacknall.

“You’re obviously not fit for decent society, Adair, despite your high-sounding title,” Grant said. “Stay away from Lady Anna
or…”

“Or what?” Conlan took one slow step, then another and another toward Grant, until he stood a mere foot from his cousin. Alarm
flared in Grant’s eyes, but to his credit he stood his ground. “Or you will challenge me to a duel, perhaps?”

“It would give me great pleasure to call you out.”

Conlan laughed coldly. “Don’t bother. I am no gentleman, remember? I could just shoot you in some dark alley at night, cousin,
with no one the wiser. And I know how much you like to frequent dark alleys.”

Grant gave him a sneer. “I am sure I have not a fraction of the knowledge of such places as you do—Your Grace. And I have
too much honor to deal with you as you deserve. But if you dare trifle with my future wife…”

Conlan stepped away, reaching for his horse’s reins. “I would not be so sure of Lady Anna’s intentions if I were you, Grant.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that there seem to be hidden depths to your golden doll that you could never fathom. I doubt she will be an easy pawn
in your schemes.” He swung up into the saddle and turned away from Grant. “Good day, cousin. I’m sure we will meet again soon.
I find Dublin suits me quite well.”

Conlan rode out of the near-deserted park, leaving Grant still glaring after him. No, Anna would not be the placid, perfect
Society wife, the pawn for ambition, that Grant expected. But could she unwittingly aid Conlan?

It was an intriguing thought, and Conlan had to explore it further. He would do anything, use any tool to keep his people
safe. But it was a thought that would have to wait until later. Right now, he had to track down his killer.

Once he turned out of the gilded gates of St. Stephen’s Green, he moved away from the wide streets and pale marble mansions
of refined Dublin and galloped toward the Liberties. His cousin was right about one thing: Conlan knew a great deal about
dark alleyways. It was there, amid the narrow, fetid lanes and squalid nests of burrows and brothels, that his quarry would
be found. He hoped that whoever it was enjoyed their ill-gotten coin while they could. Their moments were definitely numbered.

Y
ou’re home at last! You’re very late.”

Anna glanced up as she stepped through the front door to find Caroline hanging over the banister. She had pushed her spectacles
atop her head, and the glass glinted in her untidy brown hair. There was an ink stain on her pale blue bodice.

Anna almost laughed. Her sister looked just as untidy as she did herself! Who knew that such pursuits as riding in the park
and studying Irish history could be so perilous?

She stripped off her gloves and unpinned the ragged remains of her hat. Now that the danger was past, and she was out of the
intoxicating presence of the Duke of Adair, she felt so weary. Weary and aching. Her hip throbbed where she had landed on
the ground, and her head felt heavy. She longed to crawl into bed with a tisane and the newest French romantic novel and forget
all about this most bizarre afternoon.