Page 23 of The Duke's Impetuous Darling
"Wonderful,” said Marjorie. “I must talk to you."
"Oh? What about?"
Marjorie inhaled as if girding herself for battle. "You won't like this."
"I gather." He crossed his arms.
"I know what Bee's been doing these past months."
He froze. "What do you mean?"
"She discovered a smuggler. I'm right, aren't I?" Marjorie pinned him with her resolve.
"She discovered him, yes." How had Marjorie learned this? "She had information for Customs and they were able to stop a few of his landings."
"But they never caught him," she said.
"Always the goal is to catch the gang members. But it’s tough to do. How do you know this?"
She met him eye-to-eye. "I'm in the Lanes often."
"She means she takes card games with ruffians," Griff said with a wince.
She sniffed. "I have friends there who tell me about events in the town."
Griff snorted. "That means she mixes with those whom she shouldn't."
"Stop!" She elbowed him.
Griff caught her hand, his eyes hot blue anger. "I told you two years ago, I wanted you to end this foolishness with cards, but you didn't stop."
"If I had, I wouldn't know this about Bee, would I?"
Griff wanted to stop her mixing in questionable company. That Alastair understood. But the ferocity of Griff's demands told Alastair his friend cared for Marjorie in more affectionate ways than he expected.
He stared at Marjorie. "You know about Hawker. What else?"
"Hawker. That's what you call him?"
"Blue Hawker." Alastair wrinkled his nose. "She gave him that name. For his nose. His bad looks."
Marjorie chuckled, then stopped. "She still searches for him."
Oh hell.He would carry her off now, before Hawker got to her, hurt her or worse. "She promised me she wouldn't. How does she search? When?"
"I followed her myself a few times these past weeks. She volunteers to do the marketing. Insists on it. Even if Cook sends her kitchen maid."
"And so she returns to the fish market," Alastair said, horrified she'd put herself in danger.
"Yes. At the foot of the Steyne, she dallies while she's buying fish, which she is, of course, but she takes her sweet time. And Hawker's fancy gentleman hasn't come either."
Alastair clenched his fists.
"Alastair?" Griff appealed to him. "Are you well?"
"Well as can be." He'd confided in Griff about his bouts of fury. How he tried to control his ire and often failed. But here and now, he would not frighten Marjorie.Would not. So he forced a benevolent smile. "I need to know it all. Please."
"Last week, I told her what I suspected. She confided in me that if she can't find him or she cannot identify his fancy man—”
