The Duke Identity (Game of Dukes #1)(98)

The duke hesitated. “What?”

She widened her eyes. “No one knows. He was never seen again.”

Ransom’s eyes darted as he made the calculation…and came to the expected conclusion.

He shrugged. “I suppose it is the lady’s prerogative to change her mind, after all.”

“Thank you for understanding, Your Grace,” she said crisply.

“You didn’t leave me much choice.”

“I’m annoying that way. You see the trouble I saved you from?”

He studied her. Strangely, his mouth tipped up at the corners.

“Some kinds of trouble would probably be worth it,” he murmured. “If I were a different sort of man.”

He turned to leave.

“Not so bloody fast.” This came from Harry.

She placed a hand on her lover’s bulging bicep. “Let him go.” When he stared stonily after the retreating duke, she said, “Please, darling?”

Slowly, Harry’s hands uncurled. In the next heartbeat, he swept her into his arms.

He said, “Anything you want, sprite.”





36





Soon thereafter, Tessa found herself in the Duchess of Strathaven’s sitting room. She was surrounded by Harry’s four sisters: Emma, Thea, Violet, and Polly. Rosie, Ambrose Kent’s beautiful blonde daughter, who was about the same age as Polly, was also present. Apparently, Emma had written her sisters about Harry’s troubles, and they’d all dropped everything to come to Town.

The love between the siblings glowed as brightly as the fire in the hearth. What was more, they had welcomed Tessa into their warm circle, keeping her company while the men went to ascertain Mavis’ safety with the Garritys. Tessa had wanted to go too, but, given the lateness of the hour, Emma had insisted that she stay. In truth, she was tired, and it was no hardship chatting and sharing a snack with the ladies.

“How very brave of you to stand up to Ransom,” Emma was saying now.

“It was nothing.” Tessa idly stroked Swift Nick, who was snoring on the cushion beside her.

“You’re far too modest,” Rosie declared.

“From the way Harry told it,” Polly said, her aqua eyes shining, “you were a true heroine.”

“And not only for the way you stood up to the duke.”

This came from Violet, Viscountess Carlisle, the sister closest to Harry in age. She was a tall, pretty brunette with caramel-colored eyes and a tomboyish quality that Tessa instantly liked. She was also obviously enceinte.

Violet crammed an entire cake into her mouth. She swallowed before saying, “Harry told me you climbed down from the window using a rope of bedsheets. Crumpets, that’s ingenious. How I would have liked to have seen that!”

“Vi once wanted to be an acrobat,” Emma said dryly.

“Carlisle doesn’t mind that I’m unconventional.” Vi’s grin was that of a woman who knows her husband loves her for exactly who she is.

In fact, all of the ladies had that special glow.

“Our brother can’t stop singing your praises, Tessa,” Thea, the Marchioness of Tremont, said with a gentle smile. She was a quiet beauty with golden brown hair. “It’s not like him at all.”

“What isn’t?” Tessa said curiously.

“How open he’s being about his feelings,” Em replied. “Our dear Harry is a genius, except when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“When it comes to feelings, he’s a clam.” Vi polished off a plate of sandwiches.

Emma raised her brows. “Shall I ring for more refreshments?”

“Might as well,” Vi said. “I am eating for two, after all.”

Privately, Tessa thought the other was eating enough for six or seven.

“When he got entangled with that De Witt chit,” Vi went on, “he didn’t say a word to us. Just brooded and looked miserable. Next thing we knew, he was embroiled in some scandal at Cambridge, got tossed out, and ran off to become a navvy. Then he returns to London, again not telling us anything, and enlists with the police force, of all things!”

Since learning of Harry’s true identity, an ember had embedded itself beneath Tessa’s breastbone, and now it smoldered to life. After hearing Harry’s heartfelt confession, she was no longer angry at him. She understood why he’d lied to her, knew he’d been trying to do the right thing. She believed that he loved her; how could she not, after his passionate speech and all his efforts to protect her and her family? Harry being the man he was, she knew that he would also do the honorable thing by her.

What she didn’t know was whether she had the strength to do the right thing by him.

“Why did he choose to join the police, do you think?” she forced herself to ask.

“Serving justice runs in our family,” Emma said. “Before Ambrose opened his private enquiry business, he worked for the Thames River Police for many years.”

Not only was Harry a policeman, he came from a family of them? She, on the other hand, was descended from a long line of underworld cutthroats. The smoldering turned into a flame.

We come from two different worlds. How will we build a life together?

“After the scandal at Cambridge,” Thea said quietly, “I think Harry felt a need to redeem his name. To him, joining the police might have been a way to regain his honor, although, in truth, he never lost it.”