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

compliments. I’m not going to marry any of your choices for husband, either.”
    “Good,” he said cheerily. “Because I don’t have any. I’m too selfish to want to lose
     you to a husband. I need you here.”
    She eyed him uncertainly. “You’re just saying that.”
    “No, dear girl, I’m not. You’ve got a wealth of information about Vidocq’s methods
     stored up in that clever head. I’d be mad to marry you off and lose all that.”
    Lisette softened. Dom had been much more accommodating about her learning his business than she’d expected.
     Perhaps it was because he’d struggled so hard to gain it, after George had cut him
     off entirely. Or perhaps it was because he remembered their childhood together fondly.
    Whatever the case, she would allow him some time. Perhaps eventually he would consider
     giving her broader duties. More exciting duties. She might finally get to travel,
     to satisfy the wanderlust she’d inherited from Papa. It was a measure of how much
     Dom trusted her that he was leaving her here for a week with only the servants for
     company. This was the first time he’d done so.
    “So you think I’m clever, do you?” she said.
    “And managing and opinionated and a pain in the arse—” At her frown, he softened his
     tone. “But yes, also very clever. You have many good qualities, dear girl, and I do
     appreciate them. I’m not Tristan, you know.”
    “I know.” She thumbed through the letters spread out on the desk. “Speaking of our
     rapscallion brother, Ihaven’t heard from him in months. It’s not like him to be so silent. Generally he
     writes once a week.”
    Dom strode up to the desk to collect some papers for his trip. “He’s probably on a
     case for Vidocq.”
    “But Vidocq was forced to resign as head of the Sûreté last year.”
    After Vidocq had left, Tristan had retained his position as an agent by the skin of
     his teeth. Because she hadn’t been an agent, she’d lost her position entirely. So
     her brother had decided it was time that she find a husband, even an English one.
     And since he dared not return to England because of the theft warrant against him,
     it had been left to Dom to take her to London.
    “Then he’s probably on a case for the new fellow,” Dom said as he shoved documents
     into his satchel.
    “I doubt that.” She rose to wander toward the window. “The new head of the Sûreté
     doesn’t exactly like Tristan.”
    “That’s because Tristan is damned good at what he does. That new fellow couldn’t investigate
     a fruit seller for bruising an apple, so he resents anyone who shows him up.” He shot
     her a side glance. “Although, to be fair, our brother can try any employer’s patience.
     He makes his own rules, keeps odd hours, and has a tendency not to tell anyone what
     he’s up to.”
    “You’ve just described yourself,” she said dryly.
    A laugh sputtered out of him. “All right, I’ll concede that. But I work for myself,
     so I can act that way—he has superiors who expect regular reports.”
    “True,” she said absently as she gazed out thewindow, her attention caught by a man in a gray surtout across the street, who was
     staring at the town house most intently. He looked familiar. He looked like . . .
    She moved closer to the glass, and the man disappeared into the fog. A chill skittered
     down her spine that she forced herself to ignore. It couldn’t be Hucker. He wouldn’t
     be in London; he’d be in Yorkshire with the rest of George’s minions. If he even still
     worked for George.
    Dom walked toward her. “There’s also the fact that he has an annoying tendency to
     land himself in trouble without even trying.”
    “Who?” she asked, startled into turning from the window.
    “Tristan.” He steadied a curious gaze on her. “That is who we’re discussing, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, of course.” She forced herself to forget about Hucker. “His penchant for getting
     into scrapes is precisely