Page 14 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
Kit realized she was smirking, and again lifted her own glass to hide it.
“Bull is onlyseventeen, for fook’s sake! I mean, I dinnae even ken if he swings that way—”
“Doyouswing that way, my—Thorne?”
His grin was suave, self-assured. “Darling, I swingeveryway, and if ye were aulder, I’d prove that. But I draw the line at someone as young as ye. Ye’re what? Eighteen?”
I’m not a child. And if I had more ballocks, I’d prove that toyou, Your Grace.
Instead of saying that, however, she sat back in the chair, crossing one leg over the other. Wearing trousers were her favorite part of this subterfuge, truth be known. Comfort. Movement. Pockets. It almost made the discomfort of binding her small breasts worth it.
With a slow smile built entirely in confidence, she said, “I’m three and twenty.”
“Bullshite,” he threw back, smirking. “Nineteen at most. But yearea delightful little liar, and no’ completely horrible when it comes to pressing my shirts.” As she toasted him in thanks, Thorne cocked his head. “I should introduce ye to Bull. It’s possible hedoesswing that way, and ye’re his age.”
She rolled her eyes, and the Duke—Thornechuckled. “It’s not like you’re so very ancient, Thorne.”
“I’m at least a dozen years yer senior, pipsqueak. Let me ken when ye’re ready to learn to shave, aye? I’ll give ye some pointers. Bull shaves regularly now, but only because he’s remarkably proud of his sideburns.”
It was remarkablyfunto tease him right back, telling him the truth when she knew he wouldn’t recognize it, parroting his words. “I’m at least five years Bull’s senior.”
Thorne’s laugh seemed more natural, less maudlin. She sipped her whisky as he settled back to study her.
“So tell me, Kit, why a promising young lad like yourself—beyond talented with a violin, clearly intelligent and witty, happy to lie to my face, able to handle yer drink—has never pursued a career on stage?”
It was time for Kit to choke on said drink. Coughing, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as Thorne said, “Forget what I said about handling yer drink. Would ye like a cigar instead?”
“Iwason the stage, actually,” she managed. “In America.”
“Really? How delightful.” He had pulled two cigars from his pocket, and was focused on clipping them. “What part of America?”
“Actually…” Her gaze landed on one of the framed landscapes across the room. “Every part. I was mostly raised in New York City, but we traveled often. My mother was quite well-known.” A wry smile tugged at her lips. “New Orleans might be my favorite.”
“Mine too.” When she glanced at him in surprise, Thorne grinned and shrugged. “Itraveled often as well, in my previous life. I was sent to New Orleans twice and enjoyed every moment of it.” A shadow crossed his face. “Almostevery moment.”
Interesting. What had he meant by hispreviouslife?
“We also traveled around Europe. I find I like the wide-open spaces of America better.”
He snorted, placing one cigar beside her. “Wait ‘til ye see the Highlands, laddie. They’ll put yer American mountains to shame.” He began the ritual of lighting his own cigar, puffing as he asked, “So if…ye were on…stage…why come to England…become a…footman?”
Kit cradled her glass in both hands, considering how much to tell him.He’s a duke. He’ll likely be able to help. If she pitched it in a way that he’dwantto help, without telling him the full truth.
“I came to London to…find someone,” she finally admitted, stomach twisting at the vulnerability the revelation brought. “A man. A nobleman. I don’t flatter myself to think he’d want to know me, but I wanted to learn more about him. I thought working in the homes of the upper crust would be the best option.” She shrugged. “And I knew enough about footmanning to get hired.”
“How?” he asked, seeming genuinely interested as he began the complex maneuverings required to pour himself another glass of whisky while holding a lit cigar. “Had experience in between yer stints on stage, did ye?”
One corner of her lips curled upward in a smirk. “Because we had several growing up.”
And because Mother would’ve never allowed her to travel to a city like London and become amaid.
A woman alone has no protection in life, my dear. This is why you must always wrap yourself in a cloak of certainty and aloofness. Make them believe you could not possibly be alone.
That, and the fact when Kit bothered to follow Mother’s advice on fashions, she looked remarkably like the older woman. Father would almost certainly recognize her, were she to show up on his doorstep dressed as a lady, looking out at him through her mother’s eyes.
Being a man offered her more freedom, more protection, to learn what she needed to know.
Thorne’s brows were hidden by his shaggy hair, obviously still reacting to her casual confession of status. “Good Lord, really? Ye used to be wealthy, and yer family had a reversal of fortunes, and ye took the stage in despair?”
