Page 25 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
“Apologies,” Titsworth deadpanned, without blinking, opening the door wider. “It appears His Grace has managed to get himself out of bed after all. Huzzah. Do come in.”
As Fawkes stepped into the foyer, Thorne threw his arm around his shoulders and tugged him back toward the breakfast room. The move caused Fawkes to drop his valise as Thorne called over his shoulder, “Titsworth, more kippers!”
“Sounds like a threat,” mumbled Fawkes, shaking his head. “More kippers?”
“For breakfast.” Thorne finally released the other man, realizing the hug hadn’t been returned. “Are ye hungry?”
Fawkes was tall and lithe, with the nose and single dimple from his father’s side of the family. The father who hadn’t claimed him, but who’d left him well-provided for upon his death. Thorne had been the one to deliver the deed to the estate, only then realizing the man he’d calledfriendwas in fact his cousin.
Now the other man was rolling his dark green eyes. “Breakfast? Good lord, yearea layabed. I’ve been up for hours.”
“Och, well, we cannaeallbe fine, upstanding, morally productive citizens.” Thorne sank back into his chair andsnatched up the note. “I only finished reading yer message when ye arrived. Why are ye staying with me again?”
Scowling, Fawkes slid into the opposite chair and accepted the tea the footman served him. “Because we gave up my apartment when we moved to Scotland, and because hotels are bloody expensive.”
Thorne didn’t bother hiding his pleased smile. He was always happy—eager—to help one of his friends, and Fawkes was special. He was family. He’d been special before he was family. “Och good, this’ll be fun. We can stay up late and do each other’s hair and gossip about our friends and talk about fond memories. In the morning I’ll make waffles.”
His cousin snorted at his bland delivery and clearly recognized Thorne’s lack of experience in the kitchen. “Ye and I dinnae have any fond memories.” Despite claiming he’d already breakfasted, Fawkes was calmly buttering a roll.
“Well, mediocre memories, then.”
“I used to kill people,” Fawkes muttered darkly, before biting.
Thorne really did adore teasing him. “Then we’ll make new memories. Remember that time ye got drunk and fell into one of the Italian fountains in Kensington and we made enough noise to wake the dead getting ye out of there before a Runner found us?”
Scowling, Fawkes shook his head. “Nay.”
Thorne’s grin grew. “What are ye doing tonight?”
Almost reluctantly, his cousin’s lips curled. “No’ allowing ye to plan our merriment, that’s for certain.”
“Fine. I’m likely no’ up for another night of…” He’d been about to saycarousing, but the word had, at this moment, too many implications.
Fawkes’s slight smile was still in place as he shook his head. “Layabed.”
Waving the note, Thorne ignored the teasing. “So what’s this thought of Danielle’s? Should we call a meeting?”
“Of all yer friends—?”
“Yer friends.”
“Nay, Exingham and Lickwick areyerfriends.”
A band of brothers. That’s what Flick had called them yesterday when she’d dropped off Bull. She’d called them his brothers, and reminded Thorne he wasn’t alone.
Aye, they were more than his friends. Somewhere along the line, hadtheymoved categories as well? From friends to family?
And would Fawkes see them that way?
He tapped the edge of the card against the table. “RourkeandDemonare men who Blackrose trapped, the same as ye and me. Demon’s yer brother-in-law, for fook’s sake. Ye cannae say he isnae family.”
“Aye, and about as friendly as a rabid snake, ye cannae deny.” Fawkes calmly replaced the teacup in its saucer. “I want to get this donenowso I can return home.”
It was good to hear his cousin speak of hishomein the Highlands. “Ye came all the way to London? Ye have heard that, along with the rail system, the mail goes all the way to Scotland these days?”
Fawkes planted his elbows on the table and lowered his voice to a murmur. “What I had to tell ye, I didnae want to entrust to a telegram. Or a letter. Time is of the essence.”
Pulse already pounding in anticipation, Thorne waved the footmen away, leaving them alone in the sunny room. “This is about the code in the papers?”
