Page 93 of Dukes Are Forever
"I think I'd rather be Devoncourt," Byrnes said, "though titling yourself as 'War' is a little self-congratulatory."
"And my dear father-in-law, Sir George, is masquerading as Famine. There's only one Horseman's name that's not listed." Malloryn examined the lists. "Was it Dido who gave you such names? Or should I say, Death?"
A white mottling settled over Corvus's pale expression. "It's too late, anyway. You won't stop it now."
"Stop what?" Malloryn tucked the papers back inside his pocket. "Maybe I can offer you a deal. Tell me what Balfour plans, and I'll make this very quick for you." He leaned closer, letting Corvus see some of the rage within him. "I don't want to. I want to make it slow and painful, considering you dared lay hands on my wife, but I always keep my word when I give it."
Corvus gave a choking laugh. "You have no idea what's coming for you. I'd rather see you suffer than die a clean death."
"One hundred quid that he breaks in under an hour," Byrnes said.
"Mmm, I think it will take at least an hour. Lord Corvus is a war veteran, after all," Gemma replied. "Two hundred, and you have a deal."
"I can be very persuasive," Byrnes told her. "I once saw a man make another eat his own finger. I've always wanted to try it."
"Done."
Corvus's gaze flickered to the pair of them, and his nostrils flared.
"You will tell us the truth, Corvus. What condition you're in when you speak it, depends on you," Malloryn said. "You told Adele I had less than a week, which means Balfour is setting things in motion as we speak. I wonder though, whether the explosives were designed for the Ivory Tower? Or is it the Prometheus chip we should be wary of?"
Corvus paled. "How did you—?"
"Did you think you were the only target we went after?"
"You son of a bitch."
"Your little house of cards is toppling, Corvus. Just fill in the gaps, and I may make this swift."
* * *
"Don't drink too muchof it," Ava warned as she liberally laced Adele's tea with brandy. "It'll go straight to your head."
"Thank you." Adele sipped at her tea, sighing with relief as the brandy warmed from the inside. She'd bathed the blood from her skin, and one of the other ladies had managed to find her a new nightgown and robe, but the chill of Corvus's hands on her skin still lingered.
"Ava is speaking from experience." Ingrid snorted, her long legs thrown over the chair's arms as she watched Ava fuss over Adele. "She getsverytalkative when she's had too much liquor."
"And I'm sure you and Gemma weren't egging me on at all that night," Ava rebuked, slipping the glass topper back into the decanter.
"We didn't have to."
"Did I miss something?" Lark asked.
"Nothing," Ava replied promptly.
"Battering rams," Ingrid coughed, almost-but-not-quite smothering the words with her hand.
The three women had gathered Adele into their confidences while Malloryn, Gemma, and Byrnes headed off to question Lord Corvus.
"Now I definitely know I missed something." Lark leaned forward in her chair, her hazel eyes glittering. "Confess."
"If you want to know more," Ingrid said, "then you'll need to drink up. One secret per glass. That's the way we played it." Her smile abruptly widened. "We can consider tonight Lark's and the duchess's initiation into COR."
"Oh, no. I don't think this is a very good idea. The duke would definitely not approve." Ava waved her hands in front of her. "Besides, Gemma's not here."
"She can catch up when she returns. And it's not as though you're at risk of blurting something inappropriate," Ingrid said, gesturing to Ava's rounded form and hence her inability to imbibe. No amount of ruffles could conceal Ava's thickening middle. "You can be our chaperone."
Adele drained her cup of tea. As much as tonight had been utterly horrid, a part of her liked the idea of making friends. It was the sort of gossip she might have enjoyed with Lena, but beyond that, she had very few companions, and the camaraderie she'd noticed within COR made her feel a little left out.
