The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(10)

On any other man, the outmoded get-up might appear foolish. Nothing, however, could diminish the palpable aura of power and ruthlessness that swirled around the King of the Underworld. It reminded Harry that the civilized ambiance was just for show. Lives had been brutally cut short by this man’s command.

Muscles tensed, he reviewed his plan. Keep your identity hidden. Learn as much about the suspect as you can. Stay alive.

As Black neared, Harry noted that there were a few differences between the man in the portrait and the one in the flesh. Even London’s most powerful cutthroat couldn’t escape the ravages of time. Deep lines were etched into Black’s broad face. He had a walking stick, not just for decorative purposes. Harry observed the weight Black put on the cane, the white-knuckled grip on its brass knob.

Black stopped next to Harry. He was shorter by several inches, but his husky, barrel-chested figure gave him the presence of a larger man.

“Know who did these portraits?” he demanded.

At the non-sequitur, Harry said warily, “Benjamin West, I believe.”

“Bloody right, it was. West was ’ead o’ the Royal Academy, only the best for my family. But the damned codger ’ad to go and cock up ’is toes before ’e could paint my Tessie.”

Black grunted as if he took West’s death some twenty years ago as a personal affront.

“Inconsiderate, I’m sure,” Harry said wryly.

Gaze thinning, Black pointed his walking stick at a chair by the hearth. “Sit.”

Harry thought it best to comply.

Black took the adjacent studded wingchair, a throne-like affair several inches higher off the ground than Harry’s seat. Nonetheless, Harry’s height brought him eye to eye with his host.

“Explain yourself,” Black commanded.

Here goes. “My name is Sam Bennett—”

“Know your name. Know you were found with my Tessie in my stables,” Black growled. “What I want to know is whether I need to gut you like a pig.”

Bloody hell, there’s an introduction. “I don’t believe that’s, er, necessary.”

“Then spit it out. What were you up to with my granddaughter, eh?”

He decided to stick to the truth as much as possible. “I was at the Hare and Hounds when Miss Todd appeared to be in a predicament. At the time, I thought she was a lad, since she was disguised as such,” he added as Black’s mien darkened. “I saw she was outnumbered and lent a hand. The brutes gave chase, and she led the way to the stables, where we were hiding. Your man Ming chased off the villains,”—and blew one’s brains out—“and brought us here.”

Moments ticked by. Black said nothing, the flames of the hearth casting demonic shadows over his face. Just as Harry was beginning to wonder if his body would be found floating in the Thames, his host said gruffly, “Nothing else ’appened? ’Twixt you and my Tessie?”

“No, sir. ’Pon my honor.”

“Honor, eh? We’ll see.” Black’s fingers drummed on the arm of his chair. His gold signet ring, a crested affair, gleamed in the firelight. “’Ow much?”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“’Ow much do you want for ’elping my granddaughter out of ’er predicament, as you call it?”

“I don’t want anything.” Harry frowned. “I did as any gentleman would.”

“For your silence, then.”

“That cannot be purchased either,” he said evenly. “You have my word, however, that I would not harm a young lady’s reputation.”

“My Tessie is a lady,” Black declared.

Deciding it wise not to disabuse the other of the notion, Harry said nothing.

“Sent ’er to the same finishing school wot trained the ton’s broods. My Tessie’s as accomplished as any nob’s daughter. Speaks French like a Frog, plays violin like a maestro, and paints like that fellow wot did that chapel’s ceiling.”

Harry wondered what the point of this was.

“Thing is, she’s clever. Got brains as well as looks. Takes after me in that respect—ain’t from ’er father’s side, that’s for certain.” Black snorted.

It was a well-known fact that Bartholomew Black did not hold his son-in-law, Malcolm Todd, in high regard. Inspector Davies had described Mavis’ second husband and owner of a chain of brothels as a cold-blooded and ambitious man. Miss Thérèse-Marie Todd was, in actuality, Todd’s daughter from his first marriage, which meant she had no blood tie to Black. Nonetheless, she was Black’s only grandchild and the apple of his eye.

“Now some men, they don’t know ’ow to ’andle a classy female like my Tessie.” Black leaned forward, his gaze keen. “What’s your opinion o’ spirited, intelligent females, eh?”

As Harry had four spirited and intelligent sisters, he said honestly, “I think highly of them, sir.”

“Good. You’re ’ired.”

“Hired?” He stared at his host. “To do what?”

“To protect my Tessie, o’ course. To be her bodyguard,” Black said impatiently.

What the devil? “Why, er, does she need a guard?”

“I’m the most powerful man in the stews. Got more enemies than a dog ’as fleas. I’m constantly exterminating vermin, and I can’t be worrying about ’er welfare while I’m doing it.”