The Courtesan Duchess Read Free

muttered an obscene curse under his breath and Fitz chuckled. Nick knew Fitz would always use the proper title, no matter how many times he told the Irishman not to.
    Seven years ago, Nick had rescued the giant man from a nasty fight in a Dublin back alley. Two ruffians had been holding Fitz down, while a third man used a knife to slice open Fitz’s face. Nick had recognized them all as local thieves, so he stepped in to help even the odds. In those days, Nick had been eager for any fight he could find, and he and Fitz made short work of the three criminals. Unfortunately, Fitz had been badly cut in the fray, scars he still bore to this day.
    Fitz believed Nick had saved his life. Since then, he’d attached himself to the duke, and Nick soon learned it was easier to employ Fitz than to try and get rid of him. The Irishman started as Nick’s valet, but trouble followed Nick everywhere. Fitz had taken it upon himself to also look after Nick’s safety and had repaid the favor with Nick’s own life many times over.
    They turned a corner and onto a relatively desolate street with little light. A pair of men approached, and Fitz slid a hand inside his coat, ready to produce the pistol tucked inside his waistband. The men, however, remained in deep discussion and passed without incident. Fitz relaxed and they continued walking toward the water.
    “You’re overly concerned,” Nick told him. “We haven’t had a scuffle in eight months.”
    “Three separate attacks in two years. Not to mention the mishap in Vienna. Perhaps you should be a little more concerned, Your Grace.”
    This was a familiar conversation, and Nick knew he wouldn’t be able to dissuade Fitz from the notion that danger stalked him. He stepped into his gondola. “How many times must you save my miserable life before you realize I’m not worth it?” Unworthy, ungrateful whelp, his father’s voice sneered. Nick beat back the memory, like so many times before. “You could be living a comfortable life in your homeland, Fitz. You’re a fool to exile yourself on my account.”
    Fitz took a seat in the back near the gondolier. “You saved my life. Until the debt is repaid, or you no longer be needin’ me, I stay.”
    An argument was futile, so Nick leaned back and watched the other boats float by.
    “Was that your friend Lord Winchester I seen come out a few minutes before you?”
    “Yes,” Nick answered.
    “Lovely bit o’ goods on his arm.”
    Nick almost smiled. Mrs. Leighton was much more than your average Cyprian. “Find out where they’re staying, will you? I’d like to send a note round to Winchester tomorrow.” And perhaps a small token for Mrs. Leighton as well.
     
     
    “Two years! You saw him two years ago and never told me?” Now inside their gondola, Julia stripped off her gloves and threw them on the seat inside the felze . The blinds were drawn, and the single interior lamp cast a warm yellow glow about the cabin. She was too angry to sit but had little choice in the confined space. “How could you keep that from me, Simon?”
    The boat pushed off from the dock as he dropped next to her. “There was no reason to tell you. I came to Venice and tried to convince him to return with me. I told him of you. Sang your praises, really, but I failed to win him over. I worried it would hurt your feelings to learn of it.”
    While Julia thought on that, he continued. “The only reason I brought it up tonight was for you to be perfectly aware of what you face with Colton.”
    “What did he mean, calling me his father’s pawn? Pawn for what, exactly?”
    Simon sighed. “To him, you’re the woman his father married him off to, without considering his wishes on the subject. Like I’ve said, he was the forgotten son ’til his brother died. And when he became the heir, Colton’s father was desperate to get his only living son to fall in line, to become responsible. In Colt’s eyes, you’re merely another attempt by his father to bring