Duke of Desire (Maiden Lane #12)(67)

Carefully she extracted herself from his arms and went to Raphael.

Her husband gripped her arm while never taking his gaze from Hugh. “What do you want, Kyle?”

Hugh appeared relaxed, but Iris could see the way his shoulders were bunched even beneath the black coat he wore. “To find out how you came to be married to my friend Iris. The letter I received last night told me nothing.”

Iris cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should have some tea?”

Raphael glanced down at her for the first time since she’d come to his side and murmured sotto voce, “I feel I should tell you for the future harmony of our marriage that I loathe tea.”

She smiled up at him sweetly. “I’ll certainly keep that in mind.”

Ten minutes later she, Raphael, and Hugh sat in uneasy truce around an enormous platter of dainty cakes and tarts. She eyed the offering uncertainly. Iris hadn’t had time to meet Raphael’s cook yet, but if he or she considered this an adequate repast for gentlemen, perhaps she should have a gentle word.

The Corsicans and Hugh’s men had taken opposite sides of the room in what might be a comical standoff were it not so very serious.

Iris poured a dish of tea for Hugh and handed it to him, belatedly remembering that he wasn’t fond of tea, either.

Well, if the men insisted on this sort of ridiculous jostling for power, then they’d both have to drink their tea and like it.

She handed a cup to a frowning Raphael and sat back with her own dish of tea, hot and milky with just one small lump of sugar. She sipped. Perfect.

Iris selected what looked like a lemon curd tart.

“Well?” Hugh demanded, ruining her enjoyment of the tart.

Raphael’s mouth twisted up rather horribly. “Iris was kidnapped by the Lords of Chaos under the mistaken impression that she’d married you. They were seeking revenge against you. Pity you failed to entirely destroy them.”

Oh dear.

“What the hell do you mean?” Hugh started forward, and for a moment Iris was worried that he would stand and attack Raphael in his ire at the Lords’ continued existence.

“Exactly what I said,” Raphael drawled. Was he trying to make Hugh hit him? “You were careless. The Lords are as strong as ever and they have a new Dionysus.”

“Christ.” Hugh did rise at that, but it was only to pace across the room and back. “I’ll need to inform His Majesty, send Alf and the boys to the Continent.” He winced. “She won’t like that. But God, I don’t know if I can stand them being threatened.”

He suddenly looked at Raphael.

“How do you know so much about the Lords of Chaos?” Hugh’s eyes narrowed. “How did you find her?”

“I was at their revelry.” Raphael paused to take a sip of the tea he loathed, which obviously was for effect—and to further rile Hugh. “They planned to rape and kill her.”

“You’re one of the Lords?”

Hugh’s incredulous question came at the same time as Raphael said, “I rescued her.”

The men stared at each other like dogs about to battle.

Iris cleared her throat, drawing the attention of both men. “And then I shot him.”

Hugh looked appalled. “Why did you do that?”

“I didn’t know he was rescuing me.” She decided it was prudent not to mention the nudity. No need to go into pointless details. “At the time I, too, thought he was a member of the Lords—which he isn’t, by the way. He’s only pretending to be one of them to get closer to them.”

“It was very brave of her,” Raphael said unexpectedly. “And it was a good shot. It nearly killed me.”

“That pistol pulls to the right,” Ubertino chimed in, breaking the pretense that all the servants weren’t in actuality listening to the conversation. “Had it not, you most certainly would have been dead, Your Grace.”

Strangely, he sounded approving.

Hugh frowned, blinked, and shook his head. He looked at Raphael. “And then you married her.”

Raphael spread his hands. “How could I not?”

They stared at each other for a long moment.

And then each reached for a tart.

Hugh sat. “What were you doing at the revelry?”

“Attempting to rejoin the Lords so that I might bring them down.” Raphael took a bite of his tart, watching Hugh all the while. “My father initiated me many years ago, but I never truly joined their ranks as I was brought up in Corsica. Now I hope to infiltrate the Lords and destroy them.”

“That’s my job.” Hugh frowned. “I’m glad that you were there to save Iris, but there’s no need—”

“Had I wished for your opinion, I would have asked for it,” Raphael interrupted silkily, brushing a crumb from his knee. “Actually it is my job to bring down the Lords of Chaos.” His cold gaze flicked up to Hugh’s face. “My father led them for decades. My right of battle far precedes yours.”

“I’ve the Crown’s approval and backing,” Hugh said.

“Do you?” Raphael drawled. “It didn’t help you much last time, now did it?”

Hugh glared. “I’ll be mounting my own campaign against the Lords—a campaign you are welcome to join. I would like your help, frankly. If we work together—without pride—we’re far more likely to bring down the Lords of Chaos.”