Page 5 of The Duke of Daring (The Untouchables)
His brows pitched together as his features descended into a scowl. “We’re back to this?”
In another situation, she might’ve laughed at his consternation. “We never left it.”
A determined glint stole into his gaze. She didn’t like it one bit. “You’re a cheeky woman, whoever you are. But let me tell you how this is going to proceed. I am not leaving your side until I see you home. You may have escaped danger so far, but it’s only a matter of time until luck deserts you.”
She blinked at him. Then shedidlaugh, and his expression changed to one of bemusement. “This is rich coming from you—the Duke of Daring. Your exploits are legend—and fraught with risk.”
“The…what?” A light of understanding, and perhaps appreciation, stole into his dark eyes. “You know me.”
She gritted her teeth, annoyed with herself for loosening her tongue. “I knowofyou. That’s quite a different thing.”
“Never mind that. You’re out in Society. Who are you?”
“Never mindthat.” She took great pleasure in throwing his words back at him. “However, since it seems you will not leave me be, let us walk.” She shoved at his chest, which was hard and unforgiving, but in the most unnervinglyspectacularway.
She half expected him to crowd her against the wall again, but he didn’t. He held out his arm for her to precede him from the alley.
She tucked her pistol back inside her jacket, where she was covered in several layers of padding to make her appear larger than she really was. She’d had pockets sewn in various places for stashing her pistol and her money.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“I’m not saying. You can just follow along, since you insist upon being a nuisance.” She’d stop in front of a house near hers and hopefully convince him to leave her there.
He fell into step beside her as they strode toward Jermyn Street. “Why did you call me the Duke of Daring?”
She cast him a sideways look. “It fits, doesn’t it?”
He chuckled, surprising her. “I suppose it does. Makes me sound rather dashing.”
“As if Dartford does not. What kind of name is that anyway?”
“It’s a village in Kent. My family seat is there.”
She knew that, of course. For some reason, she wanted to provoke him. He seemed up for the challenge. Her mother had always said she should’ve had younger siblings to taunt—and to love. But the only other time Mama had been able to carry a child, she’d died, leaving Lucy to rely on her father and, thankfully, her grandmother, who was now her sole remaining family.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he prompted. “Have I earned a nickname? I’ve never heard anyone say that before.”
“Yes, well, it’s employed by a…select group.” Lucy and her two best friends, precisely.
“I see. May I ask which group?”
It wasn’t as if they were a formal organization, but perhaps they should be. Yes, they needed a name, just as they’d recently adopted a designation for Dartford and his like—The Untouchables. They’d actually borrowed it from their surprising new friend, the Duchess of Kendal, a former spinster as Lucy was destined to be.
Lucy turned onto Jermyn Street, and Dartford followed her. “It doesn’t signify,” she said. “Anyway, you undertake a number of exploits—racing, gambling, a variety of sporting events. I hear you’re quite good at bowls.”
“Indeed I am.”
“And that you sometimes play in Hyde Park very early in the morning.” A somewhat scandalous situation, according to Society.
“I do.” His lips curved into a captivating smile, and Lucy had the sense he could charm anyone. She would have to be on her guard.
She decided this was the only opportunity she’d ever have to confirm one of Society’s most outrageous rumors. She turned her head toward him for a few steps. “Is it true you’ve swum nude in the Thames?”
He tripped slightly, and Lucy smiled.
“We, ah, shouldn’t discuss that.” He coughed.
“We shouldn’t be walking alone together either, but that’s not stopping us. Furthermore, as someone who doesn’t seem to care about Society’s rules, I’m surprised you’d hesitate to brag about your endeavors.”
