Page 53 of Exiled Duke

“Didn’t you just get back in town an hour ago?”

Damn, but Blackstone’s men were good.

“I did.” Strider stood. “And now I need to leave again. You still havesouth of Broadfor me?”

Blackstone nodded. “Sure. How long?”

“A few days, maybe a week—it depends. I’ll send word.”

Blackstone tossed back the rest of his glass. “Are you going to tell me what this is about?”

“Eventually. Maybe. It depends on how it turns out.”

“Peculiar—a straight answer from you.”

“I do have it in me.” With the smallest smile, Strider rapped his knuckles on the desk. “Thank you.”

~~~

Standing, Strider looked out the side window of his study, watching the carriage take Mr. Gorton away from the Willows. The man had accepted his offer. An honest exchange. He would go to Scotland for Strider and then get a sum that would set his sister into a respectable life in a quiet village outside of London.

A rather generous deal for Mr. Gorton. But Strider wasn’t about to take any chances this time. He had to do this right.

“That was a stiff one.” Madame Juliet’s voice floated into the air behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was alone, then turned to the window to watch the carriage roll toward the majestic line of oaks that lined the far end of his drive. “He is. Not the usual sort we deal with. But also worth about ten of the men we usually deal with.”

The carriage disappeared and Strider spun around, facing Juliet.Dressed to perfection, as usual, the deep blue of her military-inspired carriage dress set off her auburn hair and blue eyes. Juliet didn’t usually just appear randomly at the Willows—she planned out everything—every minute of every day—and adhered to her plan without fail.

“What are you doing here? Blackstone should be handling any issues—has something happened?”

She stepped more fully into the room, her kidskin-gloved hand waving in the air. “No, all is fine in London. Jasper is handling things well enough. And he doesn’t overstep his bounds—he knows well enough to go to Blackstone with anything urgent.” She moved over to the sideboard, pulling the stopper on the bottle of Courvoisier cognac. “The real question is what are you doing here? You don’t usually like to spend time here with all the women roaming about.”

It was true. He usually avoided the Willows for all the women staying there. Once the prostitutes in his houses decided to leave the business in London, most of them stayed at the Willows for a time—either deciding where to move to next or waiting for a cottage to be built in the nearbyvillage of Fifield.

“Speaking of which, you need to stop the slew of them from redecorating the place—I told you the library, study, and my chambers were off limits.”

A smirk came to her face as she poured a glass of cognac. “They didn’t touch them, did they?”

“No. But they’ve been nosing about the library—I saw Melissa in there staring at the walls with a sketch she quickly hid when I walked by.”

“What did they do that has you irate?”

“For one, they put mirrors on every speck of space on every wall in the dining hall—no one wants to look at themselves while they’re eating.”

Juliet chuckled. “Some of them do. Some of them would look at themselves all day long if they were given leave to do so. They would sleep with their eyes open looking at a mirror if it was possible.”

“Then those are the ones you need to stop.”

She chuckled and held up the bottle of cognac to him, her eyebrows raised.

He shook his head.

She set it down and picked up her glass, taking a sip as she eyed him. “Maybe you shouldn’t have given them carte blanche to the estate.”

His forehead angled downward as his look bored into her. “Maybeyoushouldn’t have given them carte blanche to the estate.”

She shrugged her shoulders and moved to one of the black leather wingback chairs in front of the fireplace. She sat, smoothing down the front of her carriage dress, her spine straight and far away from the back of the chair. Ever the proper lady. “I repeat the question, what are you doing here, Hoppler?”

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