Page 66 of Dukes Are Forever
It fit.
It fit together all too neatly.
Her father was a traitor.
As if drawn by magic, Adele crossed to the desk. She wasn't supposed to get involved, but she had to know the truth.
Sir George had never been neat, but the sheer number of papers strewn across his desk surprised her. She flicked through them methodically, trying not to disturb them too much, even as she kept one ear on the door.
There were several maps of London, with various locations clearly marked upon them in red ink.
A letter addressed to Thomas Mowbray, demanding a bill of sale for what seemed to be a household automaton. Or several hundred of them.
Schematics to some sort of device or invention she couldn't quite make heads or tails of.
But it was the small list of ingredients beneath it that caught her attention. Or to be honest, one item on the list in particular.
Nobel's Blasting Powder.
While she had little knowledge of chemistry, the term "blasting" sent a chill down her spine. That was an explosive, wasn't it? TNT?
What was her father doing with a list of explosives on his desk in what appeared to be a secret study?
"He's SOG," she whispered out loud.
He had to be.
It made too much sense.
Oh God. What was she going to do? This would ruin Hattie. She'd long since stopped caring what happened to either of her parents, for the feeling was clearly mutual, but Hattie was the one thing she'd fought to protect all her life.
Adele's head jerked up as she heard raised voices coming nearer.
Her father.
She hastily shoved everything back into place, and then examined the desk to see if it looked like someone had been in here.
Darting through the secret entrance, she put her back to the fireplace and tried to force it back into place. Inch by inch, it groaned closed. Her father's voice was louder. Damn it. Adele gave an almighty shove, and the fireplace hissed shut with a sharp click and a whuff of exhaled air.
By the time the door opened, she was seated in the same chair she'd been in when Sir George left. His gaze shot to the book she was holding, which she abruptly closed before pasting a smile on her face. "Sorry. Just had to touch something."
He'd have expected nothing less, even though sweat chilled her spine.
"Now, where were we?" Sir George snarled.
But for the life of her, Adele couldn't focus on what he was saying.
How the hell was she supposed to stay out of it now?
* * *
"Ah,Duchess. What a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect to see you here."
The words hauled Adele out of her private reverie as she scurried down the stairs leading down from her father's townhouse. Adele paused, one hand lingering on the railing, as the Earl of Devoncourt appeared in front of her.
One of Balfour's Falcons.
Adele's heart leaped into her throat.
