Page 21 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

Who else can I trust if not Harlington and Fairhaven?

With only some hesitance, Duncan slammed the notes down on the desk, nodding for Harlington to take a look.

Philip snatched one of the sheets and squinted to read his scribbles. “Lord Bayshear... too old? Viscount Eastglen... possible?” He flashed Duncan a look. “This is doing absolutely nothing to assuage my concerns as I somehow have even more questions now, old chap.”

“All in due time,” Duncan assured him, grabbing two glasses from the decanting table with one hand and a bottle of gin with the other.

With the conversation grease sliding down his throat, Duncan finally managed to explain the favor he owed Lady Penelope and how he was working to pay it back.

“So, these lists...” Philip gathered the papers together once again and gestured to the other stack on his desk, “...and these newspapers are your research? Any luck?”

“I have two or three candidates in mind.”

“Do you?” Philip turned the pages over in his hands. “Because it seems to me you’ve written something terrible down about all of these gentlemen.”

“Naturally, no suitor is perfect.” Duncan shrugged.

“And is that the only reason you’re being so severe in your assessments?” His friend raised an eyebrow.

“Of course.” Duncan downed the final swig in his glass. “If I’m going to pay Lady Pen back, I must do so in full.”

Duncan glanced at the clock, which told him it was a quarter past eight., “I know Fairhaven’s quite adept at entertaining himself, but he’ll surely be missing you by now.”

“First the dowager duchess kicks me out without a crumb for breakfast,” Philip lazily pushed himself up from the chair, “and now you’re sending me away without a bite of dinner.”

Duncan rolled his eyes. “Don’t act like youaren’tpleased to be leaving me behind.”

“Then come along!” Philip threw an arm around him. “You could conduct your research ‘in the field’ and report your findings to Lady Pen.”

“Lady Penelope,” Duncan corrected him.

“But ‘Lady Pen’ is much easier to sa-”

“Lady Penelope,” Duncan said one last time.

Harlington acquiesced and bid Duncan a good night as the latter returned to his place at his desk. But the former lingered just long enough in the doorway to say, “You don’t have to worry about sharing your latest puzzle, Blackmoore.” He winked. “She’s all yours.”

“What’sthatsupposed to mean?” Duncan called after him but to no avail.

* * *

Penelope set her book aside and rubbed her eyes. As she reached over to put out her candle, the clock in the corner told her it was half past nine.

It had been a good night so far, although His Grace hadn’t joined them for dinner, at least Mother did—possibly an effect of getting her fill of fresh air.

Tomorrow, I must remember to thank the dowager duchess and the duke for persuading her.

She inhaled as she got ready to blow out the candle, but a knock on the door interrupted her. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

It couldn’t be him again, could it?

Penelope shook her head. For yes, His Grace was a rather unconventional man, but he wasn’t a halfwit by any means.

He isn’t dense enough to come back here, is he?”

But to be sure, she threw on her robe this time before answering the door.

“Your Grace?” she gasped, only opening it partially. “What is it this time?”

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