Page 47 of Dukes Are Forever
Herbert's impeccable handwriting held an unusual flourish, as if he'd either been in a hurry, or somewhat flustered. He'd even sent the message with an errant newspaper boy, which was a breach in security protocols.
Herbert was never flustered.
He was unflappable in any situation, and yet the note seemed to disprove that theory.
Herbert was in a flap.
Malloryn demanded his coat and scarf and headed for the door with sharp, rapping strides. It had to be Balfour. The snake had finally reared his head. Or maybe Byrnes had had some luck tracking Jelena, despite the fact he and Lady Peregrine had lost the trail yesterday. Summoning a hack, he gave terse directions to Covent Garden, where he slipped into the morass of people on the street. A brief detour through a house advertising "French Lessons" in the window, and then a hurried set through a series of alleys, and he was entirely certain he'd lost any tail that might have been given him.
Ten minutes later he was standing out the front of 45 Hardcastle Lane.
The entire Company of Rogues awaited him in the foyer, and Ava was kneeling beside Herbert, who sat with his head bowed on the bottom step of the staircase, a cool rag draped over the back of his neck. Gemma's skirts swished as she paced, and the second he entered, relief broke over her expression like a sunrise.
"What happened?" he demanded.
Movement shifted upstairs, sharp heels rapping on the floor of his study. Malloryn's gaze shot upwards, then he took in Herbert's face—the way his butler couldn't quite meet his eyes. There was a faint trace of foreign perfume in the hallway, something that smelled like...
...a woman?
Malloryn shrugged out of his coat, handing it to Charlie as his mind raced. "You said there was an emergency."
They all looked at him, no doubt gauging his temper accurately by the looks on their faces.
Then Byrnes snorted, a slight laugh escaping him. "There was a break-in. We've managed to contain the perpetrator—your wife—in the study."
"Mywife."
What the hell was Adele doing here? And why were half his agents arrayed in the parlor like they were too afraid to go upstairs?
"It wasn't easy," Byrnes reported, still laughing at him, goddamn him. "She put up one hell of a struggle, and we weren't certain just how far we were supposed to subdue her... being your wife and all."
That still didn't answer the questions he had. Why the hell was Adele here? Suspicion slithered through him. He'd swallowed her story about the big bad Echelon taking advantage of her, but had he been played? Maybe shewasa plant. There could be no other reason she'd be here. Could there?
That kiss sprang to mind again, doubt curdling his insides.
"And why is my wife in my study?" he asked, once he was certain he had his emotions under control.
"Well," Gemma started, "She—"
Byrnes held a hand up, silencing her.
"Oh, no," he said, with a nasty-looking grin. "We're not allowed to spoil this one. If the duke wants to know why his wife is here, then perhaps he should ask her? We'll wait."
"She was looking for a Mrs. Danner," Ingrid suggested helpfully.
"Or me," Gemma replied pointedly. "A Mrs. Townsend who was keeping you company."
Malloryn's gaze shot to her, then lifted steadily to the roof as a half dozen conclusions drew themselves.Mrs. Danner?His fake mistress? His cover? Why would—
A sudden memory of Adele's glare regurgitated itself."You want an heir? Then I want her gone,"she'd snarled, in a most un-Adele-like way.
And he had the sudden sensation that something was going on, something that had nothing to do with the SOG, or Lord Balfour,orthe fate of the country.
His mind made one of those brilliant leaps of conclusion it sometimes made, and the result ended up somewhere around the vicinity ofoh, fuck.
"Herbert?"
"Yes, sir." The man's cheeks reddened, as well they should, damn him.
