Page 11 of A Deal with her Forbidden Duke
“Thank you, Your Grace, that is greatly appreciated. Is there anything else I can do for you? I am sorry I could not be of service.”
Alexander shook his head sharply, rising to stand. “No, Mr. Thompson. That is all.”
“You may wish to try the Clover. It is a… it’s not so fine an establishment, shall we say? It’s a bit further out, of course, for you would not want lords mixing with the sort that frequent those places. I believe Lord Kinsfeld tends to escape there when I have him escorted from the club.”
“Very well. I shall check there. Thank you, Mr. Thompson.”
At the Clover, Alexander asked around for Lord Kinsfeld, growing more and more furious at the man’s ability to evade all pursuit.
From drunken patrons of the tavern, to the more sober, refined drinkers in the furthest corners, nobody had heard a murmur from Kinsfeld—and Alexander quickly found that the man owed money to many places, and many men.
That is now three establishments with financial quarrels with the man, Alexander thought, increasingly annoyed.
More men suggested places to look, and Alexander swore that he would not rest until he’d dragged Lord Kinsfeld by the collar out of the hole he was in.
“Try Mr. Santon over there,” one patron laughed, pointing to a shadowy corner where a man nursed his drink, his eyes tired yet paranoid, flickering around the room. “He might know a thing or two. Same crowds, if you understand.”
Alexander approached the man’s table, unsurprised when Mr. Santon tried to flee at the sight of him.
Alexander sighed, letting him scramble away, letting him think he had a chance, only to walk out and find the man stumbling his way down an alley.
Alexander had him by the collar, pinned to the grimy wall of the alley within seconds.
“Please,” Mr. Santon mumbled. “Please—do not hurt me! I—I can pay! That’s what you’re here for, isn’t it?”
Alexander cocked his head, his fist around the man’s collar pushing deeper into his throat. “Lord Kinsfeld. Where is he?”
“I do not know!”
“I believe you do.”
“I don’t—” The man stopped at Alexander’s harder press into his throat. “All right!” he cried. “I do have something, but—but the information does not come free.”
“You wish to strike a financial deal with a duke, when you are already piled with debt?”
“I—Your Grace.” The man paled. “Perhaps we can make an arrangement? Your connections can ensure I could pay smaller amounts of my debt rather than in full. If you help me, I can help you.”
“No,” Alexander’s fist pressed to his throat hard enough that the man’s face began to turn pink. “Tell me where I can find Lord Kinsfeld, and I will consider not turning you into the authorities.”
“All right, all right. I—I saw him meeting with a woman. It was near the Golden Hand. Perhaps a mistress but that is all I know, I swear!”
Alexander released him. The Golden Hand was on his list of places to investigate. It seemed promising.
And a mistress…
Kinsfeld had frequented the more suggestive alcoves and rooms in the Raven’s Den. Why would he not go further and appoint a proper mistress to appease, when other ladies were not available or sufficient?
Briefly, he thought of Lady Kinsfeld, and then a second thought followed, unbidden.
How could he avert his gaze from a woman like his wife?
“So, you will help me?” Mr. Santon asked hopefully.
Alexander glared at him.
“As I already told you,no. However, Mr. Santon, I do recommend you stop your gambling habits or you will find yourself regretting it.”
Alexander stepped closer, tightening his hold. “A duke’s threats are not to be taken lightly, do you not know?” He cocked his head, refusing to break the man’s stare. “Now, get out of my sight.”
