The Duke's Men [1] What the Duke Desires Read Free Page B

believe me. He’s been trying to get
     Father to update his will for years.” George cast his brother a smug smile. “So I
     suggest you figure out whose side you’re on. Because I’m more than willing to be generous
     to my legitimate brother and give him what Father neglected to leave to him legally. Or . . .”
    His malevolent pause made Lisette’s blood run cold.
    “Or?” Dom prodded.
    “I can end your future career as a barrister just like that.” He snapped his fingers.
     “If you help them hide Tristan from me, you won’t get a penny of Father’s fortune—no
     allowance, no property, nothing. And you’ll find it very difficult to continue studying
     law without money.”
    Despair gripped Lisette. Dom’s life would be over before it even started. He hadn’t
     agreed to that when he’d agreed to help Tristan.
    “How can I hide him from you when I have no idea where he is?” Dom said with a calm
     mien, though she could feel the tension in him.
    George frowned. “Be very careful what choice you make, little brother. I mean it when
     I say I will cut you off.”
    A heartbreaking look of pure betrayal crossed Dom’s face. “You really did burn that
     codicil, didn’t you?”
    The color drained from George’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “I heard that Father wrote a codicil to his will on his deathbed that provided for
     all of us, including me. And you burned it.”
    “Aha!” George leaned forward in the saddle. “You do know where Tristan is. Otherwise, you wouldn’t—” He broke off with a chagrined expression.
    “Have heard about the codicil?” Triumph lit Dom’s gaze. “I thought you didn’t know
     what I was talking about.”
    George wasn’t about to let anything so inconvenient as the truth stop him from his
     course. “Don’t try your legal tricks on me, little brother. You’re not a barrister
     yet, and I’m not admitting anything. Where is he, damn you?”
    “I told you. I have no idea.”
    “You’re lying.”
    “So are you,” Dom bit out.
    “You can’t prove that. You have only the word of a worthless thieving bastard who
     has nothing to lose by slandering me.”
    “And you can’t prove that I know where he is.”
    “I don’t need proof. I’m the heir. My law is absolute.” He tightened his fist on the
     reins. “So are you with me, little brother? Or with them ? Because if you choose them, I swear I’ll leave you with nothing.”
    Lisette held her breath. Even the horses seemed to halt their fidgeting, waiting for
     Dom’s answer.
    He stared at George for a long, hard moment. Then he turned to offer Lisette his arm.
     “Come, sister. It appears we will have to pack your and your mother’s belongings before
     tomorrow.”
    Shock lined George’s face. Then he narrowed his gaze. “Fine. You’ve made your choice.
     Tell Tristan that your ruin is on his head.” Whirling his gelding towardthe other men, he barked, “Search the house! Search the fields and moors and every
     inch of land between here and the sea! He must be here somewhere!”
    As his men rushed into the house, Lisette said, “Dom, you shouldn’t—”
    “Keep quiet until they’re gone, dear girl,” he whispered. “Then we’ll talk.”
    He was right to be cautious, but it took all her restraint not to protest as Hucker
     pawed through her closet, and the others turned furniture upside down, ignoring Maman’s
     French curses. Hucker was smoking his vile Spanish cigarillos, and the thought of
     the sickening scent permeating her clothes was almost more than she could bear.
    Battered by the day’s events, Lisette wanted to scream at them, but there was no point.
     Nothing would ever be the same anyway. Papa was gone. There’d be no more lazy breakfasts
     with him reading funny parts of the paper aloud or regaling them with stories about
     his latest trip. No more walks along the cliffs at Flamborough Head with him and Maman.
     No more nights staring up