Page 13 of Her Magnificent Mistake
The night she had danced with him. The night she had decided to seduce him.
Scowling, Bull sprawled on the sofa and began to crack his knuckles one at a time in his inability to be still. “The bastard has killedat Tostinham, Marsh. More than once. Ye cannae think I’d send ye alone…”
She shrugged. “You said yourself you cannot stand to be around him for long?—”
“Without punching him, aye.” Bull’s gaze went to the window, his expression…morose? “I cannae believe he fooled me for so long. He is…”
Her brother didn’t finish that sentence, but he didn’t need to.
Hawk was—had been his best friend since their school days. Because of his unconventional upbringing, Bull’s education had mostly been from home. When he’d finally been sent to school he’d met Maxwell Hawthorne, who he’d always called Hawk, and their friendship had bloomed.
The pair of them had been inseparable…And even her clandestine dalliance with Hawk hadn’t changed that.
In fact, Hawk had walked out of her life, but remained close with Bull. He might have chosen her brother over her, but he also never returned to visit on Hogmanay, as he’d done for years.
It had been a decade sinceshe’dlast seen Hawk, and so could admit it was possible he’d changed enough to become a killer. But poor Bull must be reeling from the realization.
Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Marcia looked away from the pain in her brother’s eyes. “He was important to you.”To both of us. “And to find out that he isnotthe man we thought him…could he really be capable ofmurder?”
It wasn’t the first time she’d questioned the evidence, but it was the first time she’d trusted herself to voice that concern aloud.
Bull sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “It was difficult for me to accept as well, ye ken that. Her Highness doesnae have to send me her proof, only her certainties. And if she is certain he committed the murders, then we must be as well.”
Part of the cost of Bull’s connections with the Crown, and the Lindsay Group being granted the cases Her Majesty needed investigating washavingto take each case Her Majesty needed investigating. Bull could not afford to turn this case down, or announce they’d hit a dead end after weeks of investigation, if he wanted to continue business with the Crown.
Marcia closed her eyes briefly. Shehatedthis case; hated the hurt it dredged up, hated hearing her brother’s betrayed tone. “I am sorry, Bull. Sorry that we are having to take on this case.”
“Me too,” he sighed. “I thought I was a better judge of character.”
“Perhaps he has changed.”
Her brother snorted, and she opened her eyes in time to see him staring at his hands, his fingertips flashing through a complicated pattern that used to bring him comfort when hecouldn’t seem to sit still. “He’s changed alright,” he said in a low voice. “But then again, I guess we all have.”
He lifted his gaze to pierce her. “And just because ye’re a partner in the Lindsay Group, Icannaeallow ye to throw yerself headlong into danger! That ismyjob!”
She sighed and shook her head. “Icantake this assignment, Bull, while you cannot—unless you want to get into skirts again. I will go to Tostinham, and I will gain his confidence, and I will get the information we need.”
Bull was frowning now, staring out the window, his fingers tapping along the back of the finely upholstered sofa. “How? What is yer angle? The auld amnesia trick?”
“What?”
He glanced at her. “Ye stage a fall, ye pretend to knock yer head. When ye are settled at Tostinham, ye pretend ye cannae remember anything of yer past. He relaxes, lets down his guard, is able to tell ye whatever he wishes, and what he decides will give ye the clues?—”
“Have you done this before?” Marcia pushed herself to her feet in surprise. “This is a ridiculous plan.”
“It’s no’ ridiculous! It works.”
“I amnotpretending to have amnesia.” Flicking her fingers dismissively, Marcia turned her attention to the painting above the fireplace. “It is a silly plan. This landscape looks just like Merida’s work.”
“That’s because itisMerida’s work,” her brother mumbled, not quite looking at her. “I…gifted it. To Lady Mistree.”
Marcia’s brow crept up in surprise and she shot him a glance. “You really do know this lady well. I thought she was a mere acquaintance.”
Bull shrugged mulishly, not meeting her eyes. “She’s a friend, and quite special to me.”
No matter how big a charmer and flirt, Marcia knew her brother wouldn’t be in aromanticrelationship with a widow three times his age. Lady Mistree wasn’t the first wealthy widow he’d considered afriend, but she knew they kept Bull around for his sense of humor and what at least one had termedhis gorgeous arse. But if he was gifting Lady Mistree landscapes from their cousin Merida, then he cared for her.
Besides, the reason Bull was so good at what he did wasbecauseof that ability of his to make friends from all walks of life. Uncle Thorne was like that too, now that Marcia considered it. It had been a skill that had served him well as a spy for Her Majesty, and Bull used it the same way to solve their client’s cases. From debutantes to dockworkers, shepherds to princesses, Bull was beloved by all.
