Jilting the Duke Read Free Page A

catching me out,” Barlow said. “I’ve been wise to your ways since you convinced me that the adjutant general’s daughter fancied me.”
    â€œI thought your midnight serenade at her window quite affecting.” Aidan laughed. “I only wish the musicians had shown more talent.”
    â€œAs I remember, your grace, you hired the musicians. Promised me they were the best in town.” Barlow folded the towel in two brisk motions.
    â€œBut I didn’t say which town. The madam of the brothel assured me she hired only the highest caliber of musician.” Aidan smiled. “But I think you more than repaid me with the frog in my pack.”
    â€œI still feel for that frog. I never expected you to carry him croaking for five miles,” Barlow said as he selected clothes from the wardrobe.
    â€œIt would hardly have been fair to leave him to find his own way to a good pond.” Aidan watched Barlow’s choices. “Am I entertaining visitors?”
    â€œA Mr. H. W. Aldine.” Stout and sturdy, Barlow had the face and the manner of a man other men trusted. Given fifteen minutes, Barlow could take any recruit’s full measure, knowing his hopes, dreams, fears, and most important, whether he cheated at cards. When Aidan left the regiment, he had taken Barlow with him, and on their missions, Barlow’s instincts had more than once saved their lives.
    â€œHow does he look?”
    â€œLike a solicitor.”
    â€œNot another creditor trying to recover my brother Aaron’s debts?” Aidan asked as he pulled on his trousers, shrugged into the suspenders, and buttoned the fall front on each side.
    â€œNo, your grace. Too careful with words. And he carries a portfolio of papers.... I placed his card on your desk.” Barlow helped Aidan into his shirt.
    â€œSo if he is a creditor, he has the good sense to pretend to be something else.” Aidan allowed Barlow to tie his cravat. “Well, show the solicitor into my study. I’ll be down presently.”
    * * *
    Aidan walked into his study five minutes later, having run a comb through his wet, unruly hair. His dress was casual enough to signal a lack of concern, even contempt for the business at hand. Creditors were like wolves. Any sign of weakness translated into deep losses for the ducal estate. Five minutes of polite attention could lead to months of negotiation. No, Aidan had learned quickly after his eldest brother’s and then his father’s deaths: a dismissive nonchalance produced the best resolutions.
    A stolid man, Aldine stood behind one of the more comfortable chairs, his worn leather portfolio open in the seat before him. Aidan sized up the solicitor as he had a row of army recruits or his contacts in the more perilous world of intelligence gathering. Barlow was right: this man was no creditor. Inked at the fingers, but meticulous in his clothing, Aldine held himself with a grace that belied his sturdy frame. A man to have beside you in a fight, Aidan realized. He reconsidered Aldine’s fingers: a man who wished to be underestimated. How, he wondered, would Aldine respond to a frog in his portfolio?
    â€œWell, Mr. Aldine, what business is so urgent that you must come without warning?” Aidan used the brisk tone he found most effective at limiting unwanted interactions.
    The solicitor looked from Aidan to his study. Aidan watched with interested satisfaction, knowing the room revealed little. The furniture was well-appointed, the objets d’art fine, but not extravagant. The pieces revealed no particular preference as to period or style: an ancient Grecian urn on a carved mahogany pedestal stood before a contemporary painting by a little-known artist. Aidan wondered whether Aldine saw a rake, unkempt from a night of carousing, or the former officer known for his ruthless detachment. The men’s eyes met, both having taken the other’s measure.
    The solicitor folded his