Page 67 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
“Speaking of disguises, eh?” Bull quipped, inclining his head toward Kit as he shot a teasing glance Thorne’s way. “Finally got yer head out of yer arse?”
“What?” Thorne exploded, thrusting himself upright. “Yesaw through her— Ye kenned—?”
As Bull chuckled, Kit finally finished her piece and lowered her bow. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or concerned.”
The lad winked cheekily as he tossed the coin into the air and caught it. “I keep telling Thorne, Ikenclothing, and how it fits.” He held out his empty palm invitingly. “Now, since I was rude enough to take the last chair, ye’ll have to sit with me.”
“The hell she will,” Thorne snapped, reaching for her hand.
Kit smiled and squeezed his hand, but pulled away so she could step over to her violin case. “I suppose if you needed someone who’s good at disguises, Thorne, you found him.”
“I ken,” he grumbled, sinking back into the chair. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
She closed the lid on the case, then stepped back to Thorne’s side. He tried not to preen as she nudged his knee out of the way and settled into his lap—he hadn’t really thought Bull’s flirting was honest—but he still smiled and wrapped his free hand around her waist.
As he balanced the half-dram on her knee, Kit threw her arm around his shoulders in a thoroughly intimate, completely improper, totally unduchessy way.
Bull beamed. “I’m happy for ye two.”
Thorne fought the pleased flush rising up his throat as Kit dragged her fingernails down the back of his neck.
“I’m quite pleased as well,” Kit offered with a small grin, reminding Thorne thataye, this casualness was all she wanted. All she would take from him. “Now, since I didn’t interrupt your mulling earlier, why not explain what the hell you were muttering about?”
Thorne nodded. “Bull has come up with a scheme to get us into Blackrose’s house. The man is, understandably, obsessed with security since his return to Britain. His guests are carefully screened, and we cannae gain access to his house through his servants.”
“You talked about floorplans and a safe?” she prompted.
“In order to set the trap via the code in the newspaper, we need information Blackrose kens only his brother had. We think if there’s going to be any private information or correspondence between Blackrose and his brother,andif the bastard hadn’t destroyed it, then it’d be in his safe, which presumably is still in his study.”
“Danielle would be able to confirm that,” Bull offered, frowning thoughtfully at the coin. “Perhaps Georgia.”
Thorne’s chin dropped. “Aye. And once someone isinthe study, they could open the window and letmein.”
Kit’s fingers paused. “You don’t think you can be the one in his house, because he’ll recognize you?”
“Exactly. The same goes for any of us who were his agents.”
“But no’ me,” quipped Bull in excitement. “He doesnae ken me.”
Kit hummed. “And you hate that, don’t you?” she asked Thorne softly, stroking his scalp again. “You don’t want to trust anyone else with the mission, and you don’t want to put Bull in harm’s way.”
“I willnae be in harm’s way,” the lad snorted, but Thorne held Kit’s gaze. She could see the truth.
It was uncanny how well she could read him.
She accepted his agreement without him having to actually give it, and nodded as she turned back to Bull. “So how did you propose to get into Blackrose’s lair without him being suspicious? I assume you can’t just knock on the door and push your way in?”
Thorne snorted softly. “This isn’t America.”
“I’ve been practicing ninja—”
“And you’re shite at it,” Kit interrupted with a cheeky smile.
Bull chuckled, looking more thrilled than offended. “Ilikeye, Kit.”
“I’m flattered, of course.”
Thorne rolled his eyes. “Blackrose is holding a ball this week. He’s never held one, but Society demands it now he is betrothed.”
