Page 26 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
“Aye. Remember how, after Ellie broke the code at Christmas, we posted an innocuous message, just to keep Blackrose on his toes?”
The plan had been to make it seem as if Blackrose’s brother—Danielle’s father—had entrusted the code to someone else. “Blackrose didnae react.”
“We didnae expect him to react.” Fawkes’s finger stabbed at the tablecloth. “It was only done to buy time. But Ellie’s idea is that we make use of that assumption. That her father had an agent of his own who knows the code.”
Thorne frowned thoughtfully as he considered the ramifications. “If George Stoughton had an agent of his own, someone who knew all of his secrets…that person could threaten Blackrose now that the man’s taken his brother’s title as Earl of Bonkinbone.”
Fawkes slowly nodded, green gaze blazing with determination. “Now that Blackrose is back in Britain, vulnerable to prosecution.”
“He doesnae realize the evidence against him still exists.”
“He’s an earl now,” Fawkes pointed out, “and powerful.Icannae accuse him; I’m a nobody, married to his niece—”
“Who stands as a possible heir,” Thorne reminded him.
His cousin shook his head. “The Bonkinbone estatecanbe inherited by a female, but we doubt Blackrose would let it go to Ellie. She’s always kenned that. Georgia might have inherited from her father—as the eldest, if she hadn’t been shunned—but both sisters knew their second cousin was far more likely to be the next Earl.”
Thorne was frowning. “As direct descendants—”
“Blackrose is now the Earl, and they’re no’ his direct descendants. If we’re talking non-direct descendants, then the male cousin is going to take precedence.”
“Fook,” Thorne sighed, slumping back in his chair. “Ye’re right.”
His cousin’s lips twitched wryly. “Thank ye for that gracious admission. As I was saying,Icannae accuse an Earl like Bonkinbone, and even ye and Exingham and Lickwick and Peasgoode and Effinghell—Christ, that’s a lot of dukes. How the hell do ye ken so many dukes? How are there that many dukes in the country at all? What was I saying?”
Thorne hid his smirk. “Ye cannae accuse him?”
“Aye, and even with a shite-ton of dukes on our side,yecannae accuse him. We need to force his hand, to make him do something foolish. Something the Crown cannae ignore.”
Damnation, but it was intoxicating when a mission finally began! That heady mix of danger and possibility. Thorne could feel his pulse vibrating through his veins as the anticipation made each thought sharper, more focused. “What does Danielle have in mind?”
“We place another coded message in the paper, or a series of them. We claim they’re from an agent of Ellie’s father. Blackrose will surely be on edge, certain his dead brother had a confidante.”
“And we use that to lure Blackrose to a place of our choosing. To set a trap. We cannae arrest him, but our contacts can.”
“Exactly.” As he sat back, Fawkes’s grin looked sharp and bloody, promising retribution.
Of all the agents Blackrose had fooked over, Thorne thought Fawkes had the most reason to hate the man.
Thorne himself had quit when he’d become his uncle’s heir, still thinking Blackrose’s service was an honorable one. He’d taken his future responsibility seriously, inadvertently saving himself from retribution. Demon and Rourke and even Griffin Calderbank had been victims of thepurge, where they realized the horrible things they’d done not to serve their country but to line another man’s pockets. They’d barely escaped with their lives.
But Fawkes?
Fawkes had known all along what an evil bastard Blackrose was. And because of the hold the man had over Fawkes’s mother, the man had no choice but to follow the malicious orders. Known as the Duke of Death, for years Fawkes had poisoned men on Blackrose’s orders, dying himself a little each time.
Only Danielle’s love had managed to save him.
Thorne slowly inhaled, finding his center, his focus. “So what kind of trap should we set?”
“Ye see, cousin?” Fawkes reached for his teacup again. “That’s why I came to ye.”
Cousin.
Thinking of his early categorizing, Thorne’s lips curled. Aye, here was the friend who became family. Was it so unbelievable a friend could become…more?
Even now, despite the embarrassment of the morning, he found himself wondering what Kit would think if Thorne were to lay out all the details of this situation. He had no doubt the lad—being clever—would grasp the ramifications immediately, and share his thoughts—
What the shite are ye thinking? Ye cannae spill yer secrets to yer valet. Nae matter if yearetrying to find an excuse to fook him.
