Page 68 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
Bull sat forward in excitement, the gold coin flipping over his knuckles now. “Aye. The guest list is extensive, and he’ll only ken half the people there, if that. Ye cannae get invitationsfor the cost of a gold nugget the size of my ballocks, but I managed to get my hands on a pair.”
Thorne blinked, working his way through that sentence. “Of gold nuggets?”
Kit tugged his hair. “Of ballocks, darling, pay attention.”
Bull burst into laughter again. “Ofinvitations, ye degenerates!”
Shaking his head, Thorne sighed. “I’m no’ going to ask ye how ye managed that. Deniability, ye ken, when yer father shows up.”
Bull straightened. “Griffin’s supposed to be here the day after the ball, did Flick tell ye? And Rourke has promised to arrive next week when we’re ready to set the trap.”
Having Bull’s stepfather and older brother on hand meant Thorne could cease mothering the lad. “Thank Christ.”
Kit was still considering the plan. “Why would Blackrose have to host a ball and only know half the people attending?”
Thorne hummed, distracted. “What? Och, he’s betrothed now. Lady Emma is the daughter of the Earl of Stallings, and her mother has insisted on extravagance. I’ll wager the lass has issued invitations to anyone she’s ever met.”
Kit had stiffened at his announcement, her fingers curling tightly through his hair.
Bull tossed the coin from one hand to the other in excitement. “Aye, and I managed to buy a pair off—”
“Dinnae tell me!” Thorne interrupted, holding up his whisky as a shield to fend off the explanation. He didn’twantto know. “It’s bad enough kenning ye’ve got them. I assume ye want to use them to sneak into the bastard’s house?”
“No’sneak!” Bull announced. “We waltz in the front door, and if we meet Blackrose, we tell him we’re guests of his betrothed. If we meet her or her family, we claim we’rehisguests.”
Sighing, Thorne placed the whisky glass on the table at hiselbow, and tried not to list all of the reasons this was a terrible idea.
Because the absolutefookof it was…it could work.
It was a terrible idea, and it just might work.
Christ.
Bull was right. The house would be full of people Blackrose wouldn’t know. Thorne pinched the bridge of his nose, and Kit’s fingers slowly resumed their caress. “And when ye saywe?”
“Well, I’ll need an escort, aye?”
Thorne opened his eyes to glare at the cheeky little bastard across the way. “An escort?” he repeated flatly.
“Ye wanted me in disguise, aye? And I have two tickets.”
“Bull,” growled Thorne, but the lad tossed the coin into the air to interrupt him.
“Blackrose will never ken it’s me, I swear. We get someone to act as my escort—I can find someone to hire, if ye dinnae want to.” The faster he spoke, the faster the coin moved. “We get in, we make our curtseys, and we go find the study. Once we’re in, I unlock the window and let ye come in and do yer cat buggering thing.”
“Burglary,” muttered Thorne in correction. Then, louder, “curtseys?”
“Ye ken I can pick locks,” Bull hurried to explain. “So even if Blackrose has his study locked down, that willnae be a concern. In fact, if itislocked, that’s even better, since nae one will suspect we’re in there. We pop in, lock the door behind us, drag you through the window—we’ll get the floorplans for that—and I’ll no’ even stand over yer shoulder while ye decided what to take from the safe.”
Well, shite. Thorne sighed. It was a good plan, a decent one. He just didn’t want to admit it.
“Ye cannae go alone,” he finally growled.
“Nay, of course no’.” The coin disappeared as Bull mimedholding a fan in front of his face and blinking in what he likely thought was a come-hithery look. “Ye no’ listening? I’ll need an escort.”
Thorne was beginning to have a sinking suspicion what the lad had meant bycurtseyanddisguise. “And no’ just anyone.”
On his lap, Kit suddenly took a deep breath. “I’ll do it.”
