Page 36 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
Thorne, who’d been staring at the door which had just closed behind Kit, jerked his attention back to Bull, whose teasing grin belied his words. “What? I thought ye’d be glad Fawkes sent him away.”
Fawkes was slouched in his chair, his arms folded over his chest, glaring at the desktop. “He’s talking about the fact ye look like ye’re in love with yer valet.”
Thorne jerked upright as if he’d been hit, fumbling the pile of correspondence in his hands. “I do no’.”
“Aye, ye do,” Bull cheerfully informed him. “And I’m happy for ye. Everyone needs a confidante.”
“I’m no’ in love with Kit,” growled Thorne, glaring at the two of them, wondering if his lie was painfully obvious.
Fawkes shrugged one shoulder. “We dinnae care. In fact, if yedidlove him, it would make trusting him easier.” Finally, his green gaze slid to Thorne. “Ye trusted me, merely because Ellie did.”
“Ye trust Mother because she married Griffin,” Bull pointedout. “And Sophia. Even Georgia, who we suspected was on Bonkinbone’s side.”
“Wedidnae suspect her, puppy,” muttered Thorne, pretending to focus his attention on sorting through the envelopes. “Rourke and Demon and I did. How in the hell do ye ken so much about this investigation, anyhow?”
“Griffin calls it the elephant hunt,” the lad cheerfully informed them.
Wellthatdistracted the conversation from Thorne’s feelings for his valet. “What?” Fawkes finally asked. “Callswhatthe elephant hunt?”
Bull shrugged and crossed one elegant leg over the other, studying the stolen cigar. “Griffin once told me I had a talent for giving people convenient sobriquets, so he put me in charge of renaming the investigation to something less obvious.”
Thorne knew he was gaping at the young man, the envelopes dangling from his fingers. But he was finally realizing exactly how involved Bull had been in this wholeelephant huntfrom the beginning.
Fawkes was more direct. “How thefookdo ye ken so much about all of this, laddie?”
“I’m verra, verra good at listening through doors.” Bull’s answer was uncharacteristically serious. “I dinnae have a very nice family—och, I mean, I love my family. But I was raised at Exingham with my elder half-siblings. My brother Rourke was our father’s fourth legitimate son, one of the few our dear Father didn’t murder.”
“Jesu Christo,” Fawkes muttered, eyes wide. Thorne, who knew the story the Lindsays rarely told outsiders, just shook his head.
Bull shrugged, as if he hadn’t endured more trauma than any child should. “My sister Honoria kept me safe, and then Mother—Flick—was able to take me away. Now I have her and Griffin and Marcia and even Rupert. And I still listen at doors.”
“Jesu Christo,” Fawkes repeated.
“So aye, I’ve had plenty of experience finding out information. At first it was to keep me safe, but then I learned I’m verra good at it.” Bull grinned and offered a lazy salute with the cigar. “PerhapsIshould become a spy, eh?”
Thorne’s breath burst out of him. “Dinnae joke about such a thing, laddie! I ken Rourke has his hands full trying to keep those wee hellions of his from wanting such a career, but no’ ye too.”
“Who do ye think gave Hunter and Gabby theidea, Uncle Thorne?” Bull chirped innocently.
Without a thought, Thorne pulled an envelope from the stack and flicked it sideways like a playing card. The stiff paper flew unerringly toward Bull, who ducked sideways, laughing.
“Ye’re in a safe place now, lad?” Fawkes asked gruffly, lowering his arms, his expression serious. “Yer mother…?”
“Flick married Griffin Calderbank last summer,” Thorne supplied, “thanks mainly to Bull’s matchmaking skills. They live up in the Highlands at Peasgoode with Griffin’s children.”
“They are deliriously happy,” Bull agreed, “and I was bored as fook. That’s why we bullied Flick into a trip to London.”
“I thought yelikedthe Highlands?” Thorne’s attention was on the correspondence in his hands once more, looking for the letter he’d received the morning of Fawkes’s arrival.
“I do. And I like adventure. And I like helping. Which is why I’m here. Ye have to admit, I might no’ have been one of Blackrose’s agents, but I have plenty of reasons to want to bring him down.”
Thorne paused. Aye, the lad’s brother had been Blackrose’s Blade, his new step-father one of the agents who’d been hunted when Blackrose used his assassin to purge their ranks. Hecared—he’d become close to nearly everyone working on this investigation.
Aye, Bull had reasons to want to bring Blackrose down.
“And I can be useful,” he said quietly. “I owe it to Rourke and Griffin, if nothing else.”
Thorne pointed the sharp edge of the envelope at the lad. “Let’s not talk of debts. Neither of them would want to see ye hurt. They’ll skin me alive for even talking to ye.”
