Forged by Desire Read Free Page B

a mechanical dog and it staggered after him, its boiler pack evidently running short of water, judging from its awkward gait. His mother grabbed his hand, her bustle swishing as she led them both toward a steam carriage.
    An omnibus blared past, silencing the cry of the paperboy, and Perry stilled, trying to track him. Shutting out every other noise until she could find him.
    There. Ducking across the street behind a coal-laden dray, she slid between a pair of hackneys and onto the opposite footpath.
    “Sorry, lad,” a man muttered as they brushed shoulders, then he glanced back sharply at her face as if realizing his mistake.
    It wouldn’t be the first time she’d been mistaken for a boy. Perry wore her dyed hair clipped short at the nape. The stark black leathers of her uniform clung to her long legs, and she wore her corset tight enough to smother any hint of betraying curves. Not that she’d been blessed with an abundance of them in the first place.
    Better if the world saw her as a man. A man had certain freedoms a woman did not, and in this world, where women were denied the blood rites that turned them into blue bloods, it would be safer for others to think her a lad.
    Besides, no one would recognize her like this.
    The paperboy scanned the street with his cap pulled low over his eyes and fingerless gloves clutching the paper tightly. He saw her and interpreted her intensity for interest immediately. “Here, sir. A shilling to hear the news.”
    Perry tossed him the coin, then snatched the paper up. She’d barely finished shaking it out before Byrnes was at her side.
    “You do realize it’s almost seven in the morning? And we have a summons to attend to? His high-and-mighty lordship won’t take kindly to either of us being late.”
    “Don’t speak of Garrett in such a way.” She scanned the page, ignoring the grainy photograph of the duke until last. The Moncrieff’s exile over… Reinstated by the prince consort as one of the seven dukes that rule London… Replacing the House of Lannister after their treachery… And there. Perry’s breath caught, her heart giving a painful twist in her chest. The Earl of Langdon was unavailable for comment following the news. The disappearance of his daughter has never been explained, and he still resides in seclusion at his estate.
    Finally her gaze dropped to the photograph.
    There he was. He’d barely changed from the day she’d fled from him, staring imperiously out from the image as if looking straight at her. Moncrieff, with his sandy blond hair swept back from his brow, stylish sideburns, and those piercing blue eyes, gray in print, but she could imagine the sight of them as they swept over her.
    The paper crumpled in her fist.
    Byrnes’s eyes narrowed as he watched her. “Someone walk over your grave?”
    “I was curious to see who they would replace the Duke of Lannister with on the Council.” This appointment would give the Moncrieff a great deal of power.
    Byrnes took the paper, shaking out the folds with a soft, ruffling noise. The newsprint stained his bare fingers. “Duke of Moncrieff.” His eyes scanned the lines of text. “I wonder what he was exiled for.”
    “He was suspected of murdering his thrall, Miss Octavia Morrow.” Amazing how cool and dry her voice sounded. “They never found the body, however, so he was only exiled.”
    “Why accuse him of murder then? The girl might have run.”
    “And broken her thrall contract? The punishment for which is sometimes execution?” Perry glanced away. “It would have to be strong inducement indeed for her to consider running away.”
    “Hmm.” Byrnes folded the paper under his arm. “I can’t see why you’re so interested. One duke is much the same as another. Murderer or not.”
    “I should tell Lynch that you hold such thoughts.” The previous Master of the Nighthawks had recently been elevated to the dukedom of Bleight after challenging his uncle—the previous duke—to a