Page 38 of The Duke's Mysterious Lover
The younger man hesitated, then nodded and offered his hand. “Thank ye.”
Fawkes grasped Bull’s hand, acknowledging the lad as an equal. “I’ll tell yer father—stepfather that, when I have a chance. Ye dinnae have to bear the message or the responsibility, laddie.”
Thorne expected Bull to object, to claim he was old enough, but instead the young man just blew out a breath and sat backin his chair, nodding as if a weight had been lifted. Thorne found himself also breathing easier as he rested his hip against the desk once more.
Jesus.That had been…difficult. Unexpected.
Fawkes cleared his throat. “So, we all agree that Blackrose needs to be put down. What’s the next step?”
“A trap,” Bull quipped, back to his regular easy-going self. “Were ye no’ paying attention?”
While Fawkes scowled, the lad produced a small knife fromsomewhereand began waggling it between his fingers. In anyone else, it would’ve been alarming, but Thorne had known Bull long enough to understand the lad’s constant need for movement of some sort.
“So we make Blackrose think that his brother had an agent. Can we just call him Bonkinbone? I ken Blackrose holds the title now, but it’s easier if we think of the auld Earl as being Bonkinbone.” When Fawkes and Thorne nodded, Bull continued. “So if Bonkinbone had an agent, someone who kens all the secrets that passed between him and Blackrose, what does that mean?”
“It means Blackrose hasnae tied up all the loose ends,” Fawkes growled. “Loose ends like me.”
“That’s true,” mused Thorne thoughtfully, tapping the envelope against the desktop. “Blackrose cut ye free.”
“Because he kens I cannae testify against him, no’ without putting myself in danger.”
“And yer mother,” Thorne agreed with a wince, remembering the leverage Blackrose had held over his cousin all these years. “He thinks he’s safe with ye.”
“He wouldnae if he thought I was his brother’s agent.”
Bull shook his head, the knife catching the light as he rolled the blade across his knuckles. “Ye killed his brother,” he said too-bluntly. “Blackrose wouldnae believe it.”
“We need to dosomething—” Fawkes began, but Thorne interrupted him, clearing his throat.
When they both turned to him, he held up the envelope. The ornate seal—broken when he finally remembered to read the damn thing—drew their attention. “The Crown has finally stepped in.”
Both seated men slowly straightened, their attention on the envelope.
Fawkes was the first to speak. “What…what does Her Majesty…ken?”
“We’ve told her agents everything, Fawkes,” Thorne finally admitted with a wince, knowing his cousin would hate the pity in his tone. “It’s the only way to assure immunity for usallfrom the things we’ve done.”
Fawkes’s expression seemed haunted, and it was obvious why. Blackrose’s agents had done truly terrible things, and they wereallguilty of crimes against the Crown. Inadvertent, but undeniable. A man calledthe Duke of Deathwould surely be concerned about such a thing.
But having the Crown involved would make it easier to bring Blackrose to justice.
“So what does the Prince say?” Bull asked.
Thorne tapped the envelope again. “I never said it was one of the princes. But aye, having the Crown’s support will be helpful. They agree with our reasoning that even with the evidence, the trouble will begettingBlackrose to trial. The bastard is an earl now, thanks to having his brother killed.” He nodded to Fawkes, who was still looking a little ashen. “And we ken he’s using that influence to make connections.”
He hesitated, then shared the rest. It had to be said. “Last night I attended the Stallings ball. Aye, the rumors are true; Blackrose and the Earl of Stallings are settling on an agreement for Lady Emma’s hand.”
Bull snorted, his attention on the small blade now arching into the air and back into his hold. “They deserve one another.”
“He’s allying himself with Stallings,” Fawkes muttered gruffly. “Who kens how many others. He’s an Earl now, with plenty of others in his pocket. If we make noises about bringing him to trial, he’ll fight us.” After that depressing summary, his voice dropped. “It would be easier to do this…quietly.”
“Nay,” Thorne snapped, flicking the envelope back to the desk, desperate to keep his cousin from risking himself any further. “We cannae take out the bastard quietly. This needs to be in the light, legally. Where everyone can hear of his crimes.”
“Allofourcrimes.” Fawkes shook his head.
It was Bull who spoke, surprisingly compassionate. “Would ye rather add another blemish to yer soul? Or stand up against evil, loud and proud, taking responsibility?”
Fawkes sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “So what does theCrownsuggest we do?”
