Read Online Her Reluctant Viscount (Rakes and Rogues) by Aliyah Burke - Free Book Online
Authors: Aliyah Burke
Tags: Historical Romance
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“Something on your mind, Royce?”
“You look like hell, have you had any sleep?”
“A few hours. Why?”
“You are no good off your game.”
“She is in danger!” He bit off each word.
“Yes. We both know Jo is smart. Again, you are no good without rest. Besides, you cannot check Clara’s tonight. We are each riding out. You check her home and her country estate. We will find her.”
Jo. He disliked having another male say it with ease. Royce was a family friend however. Plus the Adrys’ did not stand much on formalities and typical ton behavior. He hated that the man made sense and, with a resigned sigh, walked Royce to the door.
“Be careful,” he reiterated his earlier comment.
A brief handshake and all Trystan heard was the echo of Royce’s boots as he left. Turning to call for Mills, he paused at the sight of his butler standing there.
“Your stallion is stabled and your items are back in your room.”
His stallion? Ptolemy should not be here. Staring at his butler, he realized the man had sent for it, so he did not have to make another trip out to Jack’s. Somehow, he always knew.
“Thank you.”
He hated not leaving now but knew Royce had made a very valid point. He was already exhausted. There was not a need for a lot of sleep but once he left there would be very little safe rest. If he was lucky, Jo would be at Clara’s and Najja would be none the wiser. Back upstairs, he stripped and crawled into bed. Just a few hours.
§ § §
The figure watching the house shifted into a more comfortable position. Four men came and four men left a while later. Not the lord of the house, no. He remained indoors. Was he unconcerned? He had been at the museum after the attack watching the viscount’s daughter.
Perhaps the information was wrong and she was nothing more than a chit he knew. Rumor was he had followed her to the gardens and saved her. Could just be a coincidence.
Time would tell. For now, all that was important was following the viscount, Trystan Wilkes. A man who worked in secret for the Crown. Scanning the area again, he settled back to do just that. So in tune to the task at hand and his arrogance of being invisible he never knew what hit him. When he touched the dart in his neck, it was too late and his eyes closed.
§ § §
The painful prick pulled him from his rest. Still, groggy, he shifted only to freeze when another sting was felt located much lower on his anatomy. What the hell? His deep breath brought the force against his neck tighter.
“Give me one reason I should allow you to live.” The voice was barely above a whisper yet could not have been clearer to his ears.
“I was trying to—” He stopped at the increased pressure to his privates. Opening his eyes, Trystan’s first thought was, I will never see Jo again. Soulless eyes gazed at him in what little bit of morning light there existed. Shite. Caught unawares in my own house. He did not struggle for he knew it would be futile.
“Can we discuss this Najja? Preferably without the blades to my neck and…um…well you know. And with me dressed?”
This was not the Countess of Clifton, mother, and wife, he faced. No, this was Najja the assassin. A woman who would just as soon take a life as breathe, the one her father had created—the perfect killing machine. At this particular moment in time, that meant his life. Moving slow he brought one hand up to the sai at his neck, placed two fingers against the blade and tried moving it away from its current position. No good. It never budged.
“You, Lord Wilkes, have put my friend in danger. Not to mention my husband, and my children .” Danger coated every word with icy precision.
“Where is she?” He held still, realizing until Najja decided he could get up there was nothing he could do.
“You put her in danger with no protection?” Her tone made him
“You look like hell, have you had any sleep?”
“A few hours. Why?”
“You are no good off your game.”
“She is in danger!” He bit off each word.
“Yes. We both know Jo is smart. Again, you are no good without rest. Besides, you cannot check Clara’s tonight. We are each riding out. You check her home and her country estate. We will find her.”
Jo. He disliked having another male say it with ease. Royce was a family friend however. Plus the Adrys’ did not stand much on formalities and typical ton behavior. He hated that the man made sense and, with a resigned sigh, walked Royce to the door.
“Be careful,” he reiterated his earlier comment.
A brief handshake and all Trystan heard was the echo of Royce’s boots as he left. Turning to call for Mills, he paused at the sight of his butler standing there.
“Your stallion is stabled and your items are back in your room.”
His stallion? Ptolemy should not be here. Staring at his butler, he realized the man had sent for it, so he did not have to make another trip out to Jack’s. Somehow, he always knew.
“Thank you.”
He hated not leaving now but knew Royce had made a very valid point. He was already exhausted. There was not a need for a lot of sleep but once he left there would be very little safe rest. If he was lucky, Jo would be at Clara’s and Najja would be none the wiser. Back upstairs, he stripped and crawled into bed. Just a few hours.
§ § §
The figure watching the house shifted into a more comfortable position. Four men came and four men left a while later. Not the lord of the house, no. He remained indoors. Was he unconcerned? He had been at the museum after the attack watching the viscount’s daughter.
Perhaps the information was wrong and she was nothing more than a chit he knew. Rumor was he had followed her to the gardens and saved her. Could just be a coincidence.
Time would tell. For now, all that was important was following the viscount, Trystan Wilkes. A man who worked in secret for the Crown. Scanning the area again, he settled back to do just that. So in tune to the task at hand and his arrogance of being invisible he never knew what hit him. When he touched the dart in his neck, it was too late and his eyes closed.
§ § §
The painful prick pulled him from his rest. Still, groggy, he shifted only to freeze when another sting was felt located much lower on his anatomy. What the hell? His deep breath brought the force against his neck tighter.
“Give me one reason I should allow you to live.” The voice was barely above a whisper yet could not have been clearer to his ears.
“I was trying to—” He stopped at the increased pressure to his privates. Opening his eyes, Trystan’s first thought was, I will never see Jo again. Soulless eyes gazed at him in what little bit of morning light there existed. Shite. Caught unawares in my own house. He did not struggle for he knew it would be futile.
“Can we discuss this Najja? Preferably without the blades to my neck and…um…well you know. And with me dressed?”
This was not the Countess of Clifton, mother, and wife, he faced. No, this was Najja the assassin. A woman who would just as soon take a life as breathe, the one her father had created—the perfect killing machine. At this particular moment in time, that meant his life. Moving slow he brought one hand up to the sai at his neck, placed two fingers against the blade and tried moving it away from its current position. No good. It never budged.
“You, Lord Wilkes, have put my friend in danger. Not to mention my husband, and my children .” Danger coated every word with icy precision.
“Where is she?” He held still, realizing until Najja decided he could get up there was nothing he could do.
“You put her in danger with no protection?” Her tone made him
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