Read Online The Duke's Men [1] What the Duke Desires by Sabrina Jeffries - Free Book Online

watched
     Vidocq manage his agents, who moved seamlessly through Paris’s underground, uncovering
     criminals. “You look about the same height and build as Dom. I can give you some of
     his clothing, so you aren’t bedecked in your usual finery. If we travel by mail coach
     to Brighton—”
    “Why Brighton?” he cut in.
    “Because coaches leave frequently for Brighton on Sundays. In fact, there’s one that
     leaves from the Golden Cross Inn at two. Since we can’t take a steam packet, we can
     still move forward and be ready tomorrow morning for the packet to Dieppe.”
    “Ah yes, Dieppe shortens the route to Paris by ninety miles,” he said smoothly.
    But she caught the calculating glint in his eye. The sly devil was still trying to
     figure out where Tristan was. “It shortens the route to Rouen and Dijon, too. And
     any number of French towns.” She wasn’t about to reveal that they were headed for
     Paris, not yet. She couldn’t take the chance that Lofty Lyons would abandon her once
     he knew their eventual destination.
    With a scowl, he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re really not going to tell
     me where Bonnaud has been living or who he’s been working for.”
    “No.” She tilted up her chin. “Not unless you take me with you.”
    “I could travel to Edinburgh to find your half brother. No doubt he would tell me where Bonnaud lives and works.”
    “He might. But Edinburgh is only where Dom is disembarking from the ship—he’s traveling
     on elsewhere in Scotland, and I’m not going to tell you where that is, either. So
     while you’re rambling about Scotland, I’ll be off to France to warn Tristan that you’re
     hunting for him, and if you’re right and he’s guilty, he’ll be long gone by the time
     you reach him.”
    What an idle threat—she couldn’t afford a trip toDover, much less a trip to France. But he didn’t know that.
    Lyons studied her a long moment, the small crease between his eyes deepening until
     it mirrored the small crease in his chin. The intensity of his gaze sent tremors of
     apprehension down her spine.
    Apprehension, yes. That’s what it was. She knew better than to feel tremors of anything
     else for an English lord of his consequence. A very attractive, very virile English
     lord of the highest consequence in the land.
    “So what’s it to be, Your Grace?” she said, as much to remind her of the gulf in their
     stations as to stop that intrusive stare. “A masquerade? Or are you going alone to
     search for a needle in a haystack in France?”
    He scowled at her, then propped one hip on the edge of the desk. “I would play your
     brother,” he said, as if trying the idea on for size.
    “Yes.” She fought to hide her relief from him. At least he was considering her proposal.
     “We’ll make it simple, which is always best. You can use your real surname, since
     that will make it easier for you to remember. No one will connect Mr. Cale with the
     Duke of Lyons, especially since Cale can be spelled so many ways. And I’ll be Miss
     Cale. It’s probably less conspicuous than my own French name anyway.” She tapped her
     chin. “Oh, but I’ll want to call you by your Christian name. What would that be?”
    Though that impertinence made him raise an eyebrow, he said, “Maximilian,” in that
     oh-so-cultured voice of his.
    “That won’t do at all. I’ll call you Max.” At his dark stare, she added wickedly,
     “To throw off suspicion. ‘Maximilian’ sounds far too lofty a name for plain Mr. Cale,
     the cotton merchant.”
    “Cotton merchant? You said to keep it simple. What the blazes do I know about cotton?”
    “You don’t need to know anything about it; I know plenty already. Dom had a case once
     involving that industry. I’ll field any questions you’re asked.”
    “Right. Because that won’t look odd in the least,” he said sarcastically. “Nor will anyone notice that
     we have different accents. And before you suggest