Page 11 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
Thorne lit up, wondering if anyone here had ever seen thosemaestrosperform, but Bull inserted himself into their conversation. “Since when do ye care about etymology, Thorne?”
Grinning at the young man, Thorne opened his arms one last time. “Since when doyeken big words likeetymology, eh?”
Hugging Bull was always an adventure. In the years Thorne had known the lad, he’d grown from a skilled sleight-of-hand artist to a young man determined to use his talents to make the world a better place. He had a big heart, a witty tongue, and a strong right hook.
Thorne held the embrace longer than was necessary, barely feeling the light touches as Bull’s fingers dipped into the pockets where he’d stashed the money earlier. Finally, he straightened, still grinning.
“My pocket watch, please,” he demanded without glancing down.
Bull was wearing that cocky grin which would either get him married or knocked unconscious in the next twelvemonth. “Why uncle, I’mhurtye would think that of me.”
Thorne snorted but didn’t bother patting his pockets. “Stealingonepocket watch from me was cheeky. Two was a lark. Three was a game. But I happen tolikethis one.”
Shrugging, Bull stepped back and began to pull watches from his pocket. “This is—nay, that one’s mine.”
“That one’s alsomine,” Thorne announced, pointing at the gold engraving of the watch the lad had liberated the year before. “It has my initials.” When the lad opened his mouth to protest, Thorne interrupted, “but I always thought it was toogaudy anyway.Thisis the one I want back,” he announced, pulling his most recent watch from the tangle.
“There’s nae such thing astoo gaudy,” Bull announced, and Thorne, noting the lad wore a purple-and-teal-striped suit, which he likely designed and sewed himself, hummed noncommittedly.
Felicity, who was holding Rupert’s hand now, cleared her throat. “Since Bull has sworn to his father and I that he’s given up thieving, I have to assume he stuffed his pockets with his own watches merely for this effect, andnotthat he spent some time on the train practicing his old skills.”
As Bull nodded innocently, Marcia scoffed. “Hestillwon’t teach me how to pick pockets.”
“Well,yewillnae teach me how to walk on my hands,” her stepbrother shot back.
The lass nodded smugly.
Thorne, meanwhile, grasped what their mother had said. “Flick, ye mean ye’ve just come from the station?” Now that he thought of it, shedidlook a little rumpled and rather tired. “Ye’ve only just arrived in London?”
She nodded, shoulders slumped. “Rupert needs new books, which we could have ordered, but he wanted to see the British Museum.”
“I’ve taught myself mummification,” the lad announced pompously, “and Flick said we might see some ancient examples of the art.”
“Art,” muttered his sister. “He insisted on embalming one of the stable dogs in February.”
“It wasdead,” Rupert defended. “He wouldn’t mind.”
“I shouldhopehe was dead already,” Thorne agreed. “Then what?”
The lad shrugged. “I learned ever so much about the process, and eventually we buried the poor thing.” His lips tugged into a frown. “The mummy began to smell, whichshouldn’t have happened, so I suspect I don’t quite understand the process. Of course, the ancient Egyptians were known for mummifying their cats, so I suspect I need to practice—”
“I amnotallowing you to mummify one of my darlings, darling,” Felicity interrupted.
“I’d wait until itdied!” Rupert whined. “I’m not a monster, but I need to beaccurate.”
Felicity turned a falsely bright smile Thorne’s way. “Anyhow, yes, wedidjust come off the train, thank you for asking. Tomorrow we begin Marcia’s fittings—”
“Oh, joy,” the girl muttered.
“And Rupert’s academic pursuits,” Felicity finished. “Griffin wants us back to Peasgoode by the end of the month.”
“Which leaves me no’ nearly enough time to help trap Blackrose,” Bull finished, surprising Thorne. “So I had Mother drop me off here to chat with ye. Ye didnae have plans this afternoon, did ye?”
“Actul—” Thorne began.
“Good,” Bull announced with a smile, throwing himself languidly into one of the chairs spread around the room. “Have that ancient butler of yers call for tea, andupdate me,Thorne.”
Thorne exchanged a look with the lad’s mother, who just shrugged good-naturedly. Apparently leaving it up to Thorne what to tell her son, she collected the younger children. “The first few days back in London are always hectic, but Idohope you will join us for dinner, Thorne?”
