Read Online Duchess of Sin by Laurel McKee - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Laurel McKee
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were only united in hatred of each other and the rest of the world.
The curse of trying to maintain their people and their ancient lands in a harsh country ruled by an iron-strong foreign power.
That had been his calling, his purpose, ever since he was born. It was hard, dangerous, and lonely work, and as Duke of Adair
it was his work alone.
But he had never seen
trouble
like Anna Blacknall. Trouble with golden hair, soft skin, and fine blue eyes that saw far too much. He certainly did not
need her kind of trouble, now of all times.
And now too much attention was on him. He glaredat the curious onlookers, sending them scattering into the park. Only one man remained: Grant Dunmore, Conlan’s long-lost
cousin.
If only he had stayed lost. He was the last person Conlan wanted to see now. Well, second to last—he did not especially want
to see Anna Blacknall at the moment, either.
He swung his dark glare onto Grant, who stood at the side of the lane holding the bridle of Anna’s horse. He didn’t flee like
the others, but neither did he come closer. Perhaps he remembered the beating Conlan once gave him during that bloody lawsuit
of his. The suit that tore the Irish branch of the family from the English once and for all.
Conlan didn’t have time to deal with Grant now, not as his cousin deserved. In only a few hours, the Olympian Club would open
for another night. And he had to go about catching a would-be murderer, one who wanted Conlan dead so much that they didn’t
care who else they hurt.
Or maybe the murderer stood before him now, his own kinsman.
Conlan scooped his battered hat from the ground, dusting off the gravel. “What are you doing here, Grant?”
“I could ask you the same thing. Why aren’t you skulking at Adair Court, as you have all these years?”
Conlan grinned, enjoying his cousin’s obvious pique. Conlan had stayed mostly out of sight since he came to Dublin, concentrating
his efforts on the Olympian Club and on meeting with his old contacts. But now his plans had to move forward, and he had to
gain more visibility. The Union vote would be soon. To judge by today’s dramatic events, he had succeeded too well.
Not that he enjoyed being shot at, even though he had too much experience of such things. And he definitely didn’t like Anna
Blacknall being caught in the bullet’s path. He would have to be even more cautious in the future and even more ruthless in
finding his enemies.
Some enemies, though, were obliging enough to appear right in front of him.
“Perhaps I am in Dublin for the very reasons you guessed, cousin,” Conlan said. “To enjoy the amenities only town can offer.
Such fair ladies in our capital city, wouldn’t you agree? And they’re so—accommodating.”
An angry red flush stained Grant’s face, and his fist tightened on the mare’s bridle, making her shy away. “You had best stay
far away from Lady Anna in the future! I don’t even want to hear you speak her name, let alone make your filthy insinuations.”
Well, well.
There appeared to be something between Lady Anna and Grant after all. That was useful knowledge. “I insinuate nothing about
Lady Anna. Any daughter of Lady Killinan must be above reproach, I’m sure.” Except when she donned a low-cut red gown and
snuck into a masked ball. But that contradiction was only part of Anna’s strange allure. “Even one who is with you.”
She was too good for Grant. A man like his cousin could never appreciate such a dichotomy in a woman, never tolerate complexity
or independence. He could see the world only one way, and his narrowness would crush Anna eventually, no matter how strong
or stubborn she was.
It was a shame.
Grant dropped the bridle and took a menacing step across the path. Conlan automatically braced himselffor a brawl, planting his feet firmly on the ground and stretching his fingers toward the dagger concealed under his coat.
But even as he did so, he
The curse of trying to maintain their people and their ancient lands in a harsh country ruled by an iron-strong foreign power.
That had been his calling, his purpose, ever since he was born. It was hard, dangerous, and lonely work, and as Duke of Adair
it was his work alone.
But he had never seen
trouble
like Anna Blacknall. Trouble with golden hair, soft skin, and fine blue eyes that saw far too much. He certainly did not
need her kind of trouble, now of all times.
And now too much attention was on him. He glaredat the curious onlookers, sending them scattering into the park. Only one man remained: Grant Dunmore, Conlan’s long-lost
cousin.
If only he had stayed lost. He was the last person Conlan wanted to see now. Well, second to last—he did not especially want
to see Anna Blacknall at the moment, either.
He swung his dark glare onto Grant, who stood at the side of the lane holding the bridle of Anna’s horse. He didn’t flee like
the others, but neither did he come closer. Perhaps he remembered the beating Conlan once gave him during that bloody lawsuit
of his. The suit that tore the Irish branch of the family from the English once and for all.
Conlan didn’t have time to deal with Grant now, not as his cousin deserved. In only a few hours, the Olympian Club would open
for another night. And he had to go about catching a would-be murderer, one who wanted Conlan dead so much that they didn’t
care who else they hurt.
Or maybe the murderer stood before him now, his own kinsman.
Conlan scooped his battered hat from the ground, dusting off the gravel. “What are you doing here, Grant?”
“I could ask you the same thing. Why aren’t you skulking at Adair Court, as you have all these years?”
Conlan grinned, enjoying his cousin’s obvious pique. Conlan had stayed mostly out of sight since he came to Dublin, concentrating
his efforts on the Olympian Club and on meeting with his old contacts. But now his plans had to move forward, and he had to
gain more visibility. The Union vote would be soon. To judge by today’s dramatic events, he had succeeded too well.
Not that he enjoyed being shot at, even though he had too much experience of such things. And he definitely didn’t like Anna
Blacknall being caught in the bullet’s path. He would have to be even more cautious in the future and even more ruthless in
finding his enemies.
Some enemies, though, were obliging enough to appear right in front of him.
“Perhaps I am in Dublin for the very reasons you guessed, cousin,” Conlan said. “To enjoy the amenities only town can offer.
Such fair ladies in our capital city, wouldn’t you agree? And they’re so—accommodating.”
An angry red flush stained Grant’s face, and his fist tightened on the mare’s bridle, making her shy away. “You had best stay
far away from Lady Anna in the future! I don’t even want to hear you speak her name, let alone make your filthy insinuations.”
Well, well.
There appeared to be something between Lady Anna and Grant after all. That was useful knowledge. “I insinuate nothing about
Lady Anna. Any daughter of Lady Killinan must be above reproach, I’m sure.” Except when she donned a low-cut red gown and
snuck into a masked ball. But that contradiction was only part of Anna’s strange allure. “Even one who is with you.”
She was too good for Grant. A man like his cousin could never appreciate such a dichotomy in a woman, never tolerate complexity
or independence. He could see the world only one way, and his narrowness would crush Anna eventually, no matter how strong
or stubborn she was.
It was a shame.
Grant dropped the bridle and took a menacing step across the path. Conlan automatically braced himselffor a brawl, planting his feet firmly on the ground and stretching his fingers toward the dagger concealed under his coat.
But even as he did so, he
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