The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(13)

Some might have found Grandpapa’s bellowing intimidating.

Tessa was used to it.

Eyes narrowing, she said, “Was it Stunning Joe Banks who ratted me out?”

A Black never forgot a wrong. The ability to mete out justice was a measure of success, the way one gained respect. To that end, Tessa kept a List of Retribution. When it came to vengeance, there was more than one way to skin a cat, and she preferred clever tricks over brutality. Mentally, she added Stunning Joe to her list.

“Ain’t the point and you know it,” Grandpapa thundered. “What reason could you possibly ’ave to antagonize the son o’ Francis O’Toole?”

Dash it. Her grandfather’s network of informants was even more formidable than she’d given them credit for. The problem was that she couldn’t tell Grandpapa the truth. She was already worried that he was overburdened. Moreover, in these contentious times, he might place more value on keeping the peace with the O’Tooles than on the welfare of a single wench.

A ruler’s got to make ’ard choices, he’d say. The needs o’ the many outweigh those o’ the few.

To Tessa’s mind, the “few” also deserved justice. Yet when Belinda had sobbingly confessed that Dewey O’Toole, after taking his pleasure, had beaten and robbed her, she’d made Tessa vow not to tell anyone.

“At least let me talk to Father,” Tessa had insisted.

“No. Mr. Todd already knows what ’appened, and ’e told me to keep my mouth shut. Your pa said if I offended an O’Toole, ’e’d beat me ’imself and toss me out on my ear. I need this job, Tessa, so you mustn’t breathe a word to your father or grandfather or anyone.” Belinda’s swollen lip had quivered, her eyes pleading in the mask of bruising. “Promise me.”

Reluctantly, Tessa had given her word. Just because her family wasn’t willing to offend an O’Toole, however, didn’t mean that she couldn’t avenge Belinda. Thus, she’d devised her plan to get her friend’s savings back.

She was close to accomplishing her goal. She’d regained Belinda’s money and then some. Now all she had to do was deliver it back to her friend and honor her word. For Belinda’s sake, she had to keep the matter under wraps…even from her grandfather.

“I wasn’t out to antagonize anyone. I was out on a lark,” she lied glibly. “Dewey O’Toole happened to be the fat pigeon that waddled my way. I didn’t force him to do anything; he was the one who insisted on playing cards with me.”

“That true, Bennett?” Grandpapa barked.

Tessa blinked. It wasn’t like him to invite the opinion of strangers. He’d apparently taken a liking to Mr. Bennett, and she couldn’t blame him. There was something distinctly solid and trustworthy about the cove, with his warrior’s hands and gentleman’s manners.

And anyone who would step in to assist an outnumbered stranger was, she thought wistfully, that rarity of rarities: a man of honor. As chivalrous as the knights of old.

She felt that strange giddy sensation again.

Mr. Bennett adjusted his spectacles. “It is true that Mr. O’Toole approached Miss Todd.”

Tessa sent him a grateful smile. Wasn’t he the best chap? A real stand-up fellow.

Grunting, Grandpapa said, “So my granddaughter wasn’t at fault then?”

“I wouldn’t say that exactly.”

Tessa’s smile wavered.

“While Miss Todd didn’t do the approaching, she did set the trap,” Mr. Bennett went on. “And O’Toole took the bait, just as she’d planned.”

“Now wait just one moment,” Tessa said indignantly. “I didn’t—”

“Silence,” Grandpapa demanded. “I want to ’ear what Bennett ’as to say.”

Pressing her lips together, she crossed her arms.

“Now, Bennett,” her grandpapa said, “why do you think Tessie would want to bait O’Toole?”

“As to Miss Todd’s motivations, that is a matter of conjecture.” Bennett’s voice had taken on an annoyingly pedantic tone. “I do have a hypothesis, however.”

Hypothesis? Who does he think he is, a bloody professor? I can’t believe I trusted the pompous ass!

“Let’s ’ear it,” Grandpapa said.

Go on, then, she fumed. Talk about me as if I’m not even here.

“Based on Miss Todd’s actions this evening and those that you described earlier, I would say she was looking for diversion. Entertainment. In short,” he pontificated, “my guess is that she was bored and trying to amuse herself.”

Mr. Bennett’s words struck her like a slap across the face. Her cheeks burned. Entertainment? To have her intricately plotted and brilliantly executed plan for revenge reduced to naught but the frivolous amusement of a bored twit…

With anger came an odd deflating sensation in her chest, as if her heart were a hot air balloon on a rapid descent. She ought to have known better than to hope that once, just dashed once, someone might see her for who she was. Might recognize her true abilities. Might…like her.

She shoved aside the ninnyish longing. The true frustration, she told herself, was that she couldn’t defend herself. Couldn’t reveal her true motivations without threatening Belinda’s well-being.