Son of a Duke (4 page)

"No, your grace, it was not."
 
Eleanora bent down and picked up the lilac glove, running it over the palm of her hand.
 
The silky fabric moved sleekly over the coarse fabric of her practical service gloves.
 
Eleanora had never owned something made of silk.
 

"I had thought not.
 
But it would have been rather adventurous of you had you indeed planned the whole thing."
 
The duchess surveyed the mess.
 

Eleanora pulled her gaze away from the glove.
 
"Adventurous? I would think the whole thing appalling."
 

Jane looked back at her.
 
"Oh no, my dear.
 
I've been to too many of these things now, and this is the most exciting thing that's ever happened at one of them.
 
Truly adventurous really."
 

Eleanora stared at her.
 
But really, she would expect that of the Duchess of Lofton.
 
It had only been a few weeks since Eleanora had had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of the Duchess of Lofton at a tea held at Gregenden House, but the older woman had taken a kind of liking to Eleanora
 
for which she could not find a reason.
 
It was odd the relationship that had grown up between them, but Eleanora thought that this must have been what it would have been like to have a mother.
 
The thought was as ridiculous as Eleanora imagined but imagine it she did.
 

"Do you not have somewhere else to be, your grace?"
 
Eleanora smiled slightly at the older woman as she looked about for the Duke of Lofton who was mysteriously absent.

Eleanora had heard that theirs was a different kind of relationship, but having no experience with relationships at all, she had to take the word of the gossips for it, which she could admit was not that reliable.

The Duchess of Lofton tilted her head.
 
"The old bugger can wait.
 
I want to see what happens."
 

Eleanora slipped the lilac glove into the pocket of her apron.
 
"Very well, then.
 
If you're going to hang around you can help clean up."
 
She bent over and righted one of the potted ferns.
 

The duchess smiled.
 
"Only you would put a member of the peerage to work, Miss Quinton."
 

"I find some members of the peerage are there only out of luck, not that they have earned it."
 

The duchess raised her eyebrows.
 
"Am I one of those there out of luck then, Eleanora?"

Eleanora smirked again.
 
"Loads of luck, your grace."
     

~

He didn't bother grabbing his coat or hat as he walked out into the crisp dark night.
 
He did not have far to walk.
 
The drive in front of him was full of the mob that the ballroom had been full of just moments before.
 
Ladies were scrambling to get into carriages as men pushed from behind, shoving the wads of fabric through the carriage doors that were much too small.
 
Especially for Lady Drendrigeshire's fat arse.
 
Alec observed for a moment that her behind looked quite like the signal flag of a ship as it attempted to make its way through the tight carriage door, and he pondered whether the signal flag would be depicting distress.

He turned right at the end of the walk from the front door and headed down along the side of the drive, ignoring the ladies that shouted at him for assistance and the men who plodded into him while trying to shove the women into the carriages.
 
It really was just a great mess.

Stryden met the street and crossed quickly between two passing carriages to the other side.
 
Walking toward the corner, he ducked down an alleyway before he reached the intersecting street.
 
His shoes clicked, ricocheting off the brick walls that enclosed the back gardens of the townhouses along the alley.
 
The light from the street did not penetrate the darkness very far.
 
But the hack was pulled only so far in, facing the street in case the occupant had a need to leave quickly.
 
Styrden walked up to it, pulled open the door and climbed in.

"Nice shot."
 
He rubbed his hands together from the cold.

"Thank you."
 
His brother's teeth flashed white in the darkness as he smiled.
 
"Thank you for the distraction.
 
Is she really all that Jane says she is?"

"That and more, I'm afraid.
 
I thought I was in over my head."
 
Stryden relaxed against the cushions, keeping one eye focused out the window for movement.

He had been rather surprised by how ardently Eleanora Quinton had surveyed the room.
 
It was as if she herself had served in the military and knew exactly what it took to correctly manage a battalion of soldiers.
 
Or in this case, housemaids, footmen, and an unpredictable bunch of peers.
 
But quite impressed he still had been.

When he had taken on this assignment from the War Office, he had thought it would be simple enough.
 
A typical assassination of a treasonous lord.
 
He had not taken the time to realize all of the possible scenarios where things would become truly difficult.
 
An assassination meant to look like payment for untold debts and rights wronged and all of that glory nonsense that winners spouted about the morning after the duel in which they had survived and some other poor chap had not.
 
Alec did not know who really had the energy for such drivel.
 
What happened to being a gentleman and all that that stood for?
 

"You?
 
In over your head with a woman?
 
I doubt that," Nathan said, and Alec looked at him through the darkness.

It still startled him to see a face so like his own, and he felt again the rush of affection for his older brother.
 
Although Nathan had been born first, it was Alec who had carried the title as Nathan had been born on the wrong side of the sheets.
 
It saddened Alec to know that a title Nathan so richly deserved was one he would never have.
 
But their father had not neglected Nathan, just as the Duke of Lofton had not neglected any person under his care in his entire life.
 
He had taken Nathan as a son when the baby's mother had died in childbirth, and Nathan had never wanted for anything.
 
And Alec had had a big brother to look up to.

"Do not doubt, dear brother," he said now, "She's an eagle.
 
I thought I was going to have to ravish her right there on the dance floor to get her to stop eyeing everyone and everything."
 
He straightened his coat.
 
"I have never seen any one more observant in my entire life.
 
Including you."

Nathan sat up.
 
"Including me?"

"Yes, you."
 
Stryden watched the lines of his brother's face in the darkness.
 
"No."
 
His brother did not move.
 
"No, you are not going to meet her."

"Why not?"
 
Nathan sat forward so a shaft of moon fell across his blue eyes, revealing features so like Stryden's that he paused again in consideration.

This was his brother.
 
The one he fought next to on the battlefields in France and returning to England, they had been partnered by the War Office to fight in a more intellectual game, one of espionage and stealth, played out in drawing rooms and clubs instead of battlefields.
 
And now the bloody bastard was going to ruin everything he had worked so hard to accomplish that night because he wanted to meet a woman?
 

"I flirted outrageously with her in order to get you in there without her seeing you.
 
And now you just want to waltz in and meet the chit?"

"Oh, come now, Alec, I would not call her a chit.
 
You just said she was an eagle.
 
Most gracious and noble bird that is."
 
He reached for the door.
 
"I believe I shall have a look."

Alec grabbed his brother's hand in mid air.
 
"Think about what you're doing.
 
Your life may never be the same."

Nathan sat back.
 
"Yes, maybe it will get better."

"I think it will get a lot worse."

"She's that incredible?"

"She reminded me of Hurst."

Nathan leaned further back in the seat.
 
"Hurst?"

"Yes.
 
Holds her hands behind her back in just the same manner."

"Oh my."
 
Nathan sat all the way back against the cushioned seat, remembering their commanding officer from their days in the field.
   

"And what about the mission, Nathan?" Alec tried a different tactic.
 
"This was supposed to have looked like a revenge killing."
 

Nathan seemed to ponder this.

"Do you think anyone will believe that?"
 

Alec shrugged.
 

"I do not know.
 
I have never seen a revenge killing before.
 
It is not like they happen regularly at balls."
 

Nathan gave a sound as if to agree but spoke no further.

The two sat for a moment staring out the window.
 
They heard the horses shift their feet in the cold, sending their reins jingling in the stillness.

"They should be coming soon.
 
I should head back."
 
Alec opened the door and climbed down.
 
He turned to shut the door, but Nathan was climbing out behind him.
 

"No."
 
Alec tried to physically push Nathan back into the hack.
 

Nathan swatted his little brother out of the way.
 
"I think my life could use an adjustment."

~

Standing in the doorway to the ballroom, he knew, quite quickly in fact, that this was more than just an adjustment, and his life really may never be the same again.
 
She was beautiful.
 
Well, not beautiful in any normal manner.
 
In fact, she looked like she could put him in his place faster than make him buckle at the knees with want.
 
Both options sounded vastly appealing though.
 

She stood in the middle of an absolute mess.
 
There was what looked like the remains of some kind of shrubbery strewn across the floor.
 
Why shrubbery would be in a ballroom, he had not a clue.
 
But a herd of society's finest had done their best to maim the poor plants.
 
Maids and footmen were gathering the fronds in piles growing almost too large to hold.
 
Others were carefully picking up shards of glass, broken champagne flutes and plates.
 
More were crawling over the platform in the rear where he had entered earlier that evening.
 
The ballroom had looked quite lovely then.
 

Miss Quinton was currently folding yards of a sheer, blue fabric, carefully placing it on a table away from the dirt and spilled liquor.
 
Her white hat and apron were as starched and perfect as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired that evening.
 
The corners of her mouth were slightly turned up.
 
Why?
 
He did not know, but for some odd reason, he really wished to find out.
 

He felt Alec staring at him as he stared at Miss Quinton.
 

"Hurst, indeed."

"Do not do it, Nathan.
 
You still have time to flee.
 
She has not seen you yet."

Nathan glared at him.
 
"I'm not going to run with my tail between my legs from a mere woman."

"Who is this, my lord?"

The sharp tone made Nathan swing his head around.
 
He stared openly, knowing his mouth was hanging down to his chest and not caring in the least.

Alec opened his mouth to speak, but Nathan moved first, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his lips, "Mr. Black, of Bow Street, Miss Quinton."

He lowered her hand, letting her fingers slide slowly through his own before fully letting go of her.
 

Alec attempted to hide a laugh under a strained cough.
 

A little lie was not going to hurt things at the moment.
 
After all, he had just killed a man.
 

Except Miss Quinton did not flinch.

Nathan straightened fully and smiled his most devilish smile.
 

She cast her eyes down along the length of him and back up.
 
"Here is the body, Mr. Black."
 
She turned away from him, gesturing to the dead man on the floor about ten feet away.
 

Nathan frowned.
 
Deeply.
 
Had she just given him the once over and then dismissed him completely?
 

He threw a scowl at Alec who just shrugged his shoulders and moved to follow Miss Quinton.
 
Nathan also moved and found his path blocked by one of the decimated ferns.
 
He kicked it out of his way and continued on.