Page 10 of Duke of Bronze
Colin folded it neatly, tucking it away. "I have somewhere to be."
Alex studied him, his gaze assessing. "Everything all right?"
Colin forced a smile. "Perfectly."
He mounted his horse and rode through the city, a sense of curiosity and suspicion tightening in his ribs. By the time he reached Whitechapel, the sun hung low in the sky.
The Flying Crow was exactly as he had imagined—dim, smoky, and reeking of stale ale. Dismounting, he handed his horse to a youth, pressing a coin into his palm. The boy nodded, leading the animal away.
As Colin stepped inside, every instinct of his sharpened. The air was filled with murmurs, the clink of tankards, and the occasional burst of raucous laughter. Yet, it was the barman's reaction that set him on edge.
The man took one look at him and immediately stepped away from the counter, approaching with a mercenary glint in his eye.
"I am not here to drink," Colin said.
"Of course, Your Grace," the barman greeted, proving he already knew precisely who Colin was.
That did not sit well with him.
Colin studied the man, his fingers twitching at his sides. He should have brought a pistol. These people clearly knew him, but he did not know them. That alone was enough to unnerve him.
The barman proffered a note. "This is for you."
Another bloody one!Colin snatched it, his irritation mounting.
An urgent matter arose within my family. I must attend to it immediately.Forgive me, Your Grace. We shall find another time.
—R.M
Colin exhaled, barely containing his frustration. Who was this Roderick, this coward who dealt only in secret messages and absences?
"Who is he?" He fixed the barman with a pointed stare.
The man's expression was inscrutable. "He will tell you himself when you meet."
Colin's jaw ticked. "Are you protecting him?"
The barman's lips curled slightly. "Should I be, Your Grace?"
The cryptic response only deepened Colin's irritation. Realizing he would get nothing more from the man, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door.
What was this about his father? What business had his father conducted here in life?
"Oh, I am so relieved to see that you have not pulled your hair out after the shock of the auction, Anna dear. Lizzy and I have been positively beside ourselves with worry," Peggy declared, her voice rich with amusement.
Anna had called upon her cousin that afternoon, seeking any and every distraction from the disastrous morning she had endured. Thenerveof Copperton. She still could not believe she had allowed herself to be rendered speechless.Speechless!By him, of all people.
"Ablaze?" Anna echoed, arching a brow as she settled more comfortably into her chair. She cooed at the tiny bundle in her arms—Peggy's daughter, little Victoria—whose chubby fingers latched onto the lace of Anna's sleeve. "You exaggerate, Peggy."
Peggy smirked, reclining with the ease of a woman far too entertained. "Do I? I recall a certain someone looking perilously close to combusting before all of London."
"Ioughtto have set the entirety of that auction ablaze, now that I think about it," Anna mused, stroking Victoria's soft curls.
Peggy laughed. "That, I would have paid to see."
Anna feigned a scandalized expression. "Surely, I am notthatbad."
"Oh no," Peggy said, eyes gleaming with mischief. "You are only worse."
