The Secret Duke Read Free Page B

It’ll be mighty strange to have a new ’un.”
    “Exceedingly.” Thorn glanced around for the man who’d helped by revealing his identity and was winked at by an elderly man puffing peaceably on his pipe. He took the risk of going over to slip him a guinea.
    The man slid it into a pocket, nodding with dignity. “God bless you, sir!”
    “And you.”
    Then he had the girl outside. He hurried her down the quay until they were lost in the misty darkness. Thorn blessed the growing crowd. When he’d entered the Rat, this area had been almost deserted, but now people were spilling out of buildings and perhaps coming from other areas of town to exclaim together over the news.
    The immediate danger was over, but what in Hades was he to do with this woman? Especially now, in this extraordinary moment.
    The old king had reigned for thirty-three years, as long as many here had memories, including himself. The king’s eldest son, Frederick, had died some years back, so the new monarch was poor Fred’s son, George, a man younger than Thorn himself and under the thumb of his mother and his noble tutor, the Earl of Bute.
    Chaos threatened and he needed to travel to London with all speed, but he had a reckless, stubborn millstone around his neck. She’d gathered her cloak around her and pulled up the hood against the damp chill, so he could see little of her face until she peered out at him.
    In a flat voice, she said, “You’re going to abandon me now.”
    A pretty plea would work better, my girl. But pretty pleas didn’t seem to be her style, to rapacious rascals or impatient rescuers. Part of him admired that.
    Or were her words simple cunning, making it hard to act that way? He deeply disliked being manipulated, and he was offended that she’d imagine he would abandon a young lady in this area at all, never mind on a night like this.
    “You’d better come to my inn with me,” he said shortly. “It’s not far and we can sort out your problem there.”
    “I doubt you’ll find it so easy.”
    “You’d rather I didn’t try? Then walk away.”
    He sensed her flinch. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just . . . difficult.”
    “I don’t doubt it.” He put an arm around her to guide her through the growing crowd. She resisted for a moment, but then showed some sense. The mood was merry at the moment. Clearly celebrating the new reign was preferable to mourning the old, but it involved drink, a lot of drink, so this could soon become a riot.
    “What were you doing in the Rat?” he asked.
    “Is that the place’s name? How appropriate.”
    “Well?” he demanded.
    “I . . .” But then she turned and flung her arms around his neck, pressing hard against him. He instinctively put his arms around her, but then he grasped her wrists to pull her off. Devil take it, was this an extremely contrived attempt to compromise him into marriage?
    “No,” she whispered desperately, clinging to his coat. “Please!”
    Good God. He’d heard of women driven mad with promiscuous desire. Was this a case? Was that her purpose down here on the quay? He couldn’t deny a touch of excited curiosity, so he kissed her parted lips.
    She became an icy statue, her lips closing tight.
    Not, alas, driven mad with promiscuous desire. Not even pretending enthusiasm in the hope of hooking his interest. That left only one explanation.
    “Who are you hiding from?” he whispered.
    She relaxed a little. “Two men walking down the street.”
    The butterfly movements of her lips against his were surprisingly enticing, but not, it would seem, to her. He realized she wasn’t interested in him at all.
    How novel.

Chapter 2
     
     
     
     
    P retending to kiss, he turned them, looking around.
    With such a crowd it should be impossible to spot her problem, but the two men stood out by being sober and purposeful. They were working their way through the crowd without obvious impatience, but steadily. One was cloaked, one not, and both wore three-cornered