Page 71 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
“Aye, well,” she drawled, mimicking Bull—and Thorne’s—Scottish brogue. “I’m American, and that’s even worse, ye ken.”
Another step, and suddenly she could see their host. Herfather.
On her arm, Bull made a little noise of understanding. “Want me to fake a fainting spell so ye dinnae have to actually meet him?”
Kit briefly considered it, but ultimately shook her head, despite a stomach full of knots. “I’ll borrow yer accent and he’ll no’ recognize me. No’ dressed as I am.”
That had been the point of coming to London as a lad, after all. In a gown, she looked enough like her mother. But tonight, dressed as she was, she didn’t think the man would guess her identity.
And frankly, she was looking forward to fooking him over.Although he’d hopefully never know his bastard daughter had been the one to facilitate tonight’s break-in,she’dknow, and looked forward to telling Mother all about it.
“Och, I say, that’s quite a good impression,” Bull murmured. “But I’ll still try no’ to talk.”
“Likely for the best,” she agreed absently, attention elsewhere.
The couple in front of them were being presented to their host and Kit swallowed, preparing herself. In a moment, she’d be shaking her father’s hand.
William Stoughton, like Titsworth, had aged well; his hair was still dark and his skin mostly unlined, with clear pride taken in his large mustache. Kit supposed he could be called handsome, if one didn’t know the crimes he’d committed.
That afternoon in Thorne’s study, when she’d learned “Blackrose” was marrying Lady Emma, she finally put two and two together. There’d been that newspaper article on Thorne’s desk the day he’d licked her cunny and asked her to marry him. Kit had almost forgotten the headline in the revelations of that day, but it had come crashing back to her.
Lord William Stoughton, Earl of Bonkinbone, to marry Lady Emma, daughter of the Earl of Stallings.
But it wasn’t until Thorne had casually mentioned Blackrose was betrothed to the woman that Kit realized Blackrose—the heartless traitor who’d forced Thorne and his friends to do so many horrible things—was herfather.
Now she was looking forward to betraying him even more.
For Mother.
For herself.
And now, for Thorne.
Smiling grimly, she stepped up beside the impassive man accepting invitations.
“My Lord, may I present the Honorable John Smith and hissister, Miss Mary, of Lincolnshire,” he intoned, barely glancing at the gilt-edged papers.
Kit held out her hand and a clearly bored Earl of Bonkinbone accepted it. Her father’s handshake was firm and over quickly, as if he too was desperate to move along.
“Welcome to Bonkinbone, young man, miss,” he barked out with a polite nod. “I’m certain Lady Emma will be delighted to see you again, I believe she’s dancing already.”
He pointed them toward the ballroom, already turning to the next couple, and Kit exhaled.
Thatwas her father.
That was the man who’d betrayed his country and countless idealistic young men, all in the name of money. All in the name of gaining this fine estate and a fine wife and prominence among the people surrounding them.
“I’m going to take him down,” she hissed to Bull as she led him along the corridor.
“Excellent.” He hadn’t worn heeled slippers, so as not to tower over Kit, but he still gripped her arm tightly. Or perhaps that was to offer her support. “I’ll help ye. His study is this way.”
Thank God Bull had memorized the maps Fawkes’s wife had shared, because Kit was in a bit of a daze.
Fawkes was married to Blackrose’s niece. That hadn’t meant anything to Kit until the realization “Blackrose” had been her father’s codename. Now she knew this Danielle person was really the daughter of George Stoughton, the old Earl of Bonkinbone.
And Kit’s cousin. Which made Fawkes family. And he was Thorne’s cousin. Oh, what a tangle. Not even a half-crazed author with apparent masochistic tendencies could concoct such a web of connections.
Logically she’d known that she had family besides Mother.Mother herself had a younger sister in New York who had taken holy vows and thought “opera singer” was a thoroughly improper career choice. Kit had met her second-cousins on Mother’s side exactly twice, and could barely remember their names.
