Duncan scanned the grounds again, confirming nothing stirred. “My father isn’t titled. He’s not rich either, so in my uncle’s eyes, the man had nothing to recommend him.”
“But your mother married him anyway. Did they elope?” She looked so hopeful, he almost hated to disappoint her.
“No. My mother threatened that, if the stories are to be believed, and her father consented to the match.”
“So it was a love match.”
“Very much so.” This talk of his family made him miss home. Of course, his brothers and two of his sisters had moved away from home now, but whenever he visited, he could still feel the warmth between his mother and father. He’d often felt safe and loved just being in their presence. It was as though their love for each other radiated out and encompassed the rest of the family.
But he wouldn’t tell Lucy that. She’d never think of him as a scoundrel if he spouted that drivel.
“But wasn’t your own parents’ marriage a love match?” he asked. He’d never asked her about her parents before. Will had spoken about them from time to time, and of course, Duncan knew of them. When he’d been with the Foreign Office, he’d gotten his hands on what few documents he could about all the great agents from the American Revolution to the French Revolution to the Napoleonic Wars. He’d devoured all the information, hoping the study of their tactics and prowess would make him a better agent.
“No,” she said. “I think they hardly knew each other when they were wed. The love came later.”
He waited for her to go on, but she turned back to stare at her observation area. Duncan didn’t want the conversation to end. “It can’t have been easy to grow up in a family like that. Was it always assumed you would become an agent for the Crown?”
“No. My parents never put that expectation on me. In fact, my mother made a point of telling me how hard it is for women to make a career as an agent. That only made me want it more. That and the fact that my brother was clearly born to be an agent. I couldn’t let him have all the glory.” He could hear that smile again, but he thought she was probably more serious than she let on.
“I’ve never met anyone as competitive as you.”
“You have,” she said. “They were just male, and you didn’t think anything of it.”
Was that true? He studied the grounds to check for movement. Still none. Duncan thought back to his time at school. There had been other boys who vied for the top grades or to be the best athlete. Duncan had certainly liked to be at the top of his class, but he’d never had to try that hard. Was that why he felt less of a need to compete? Because he didn’t feel as though he had to prove himself?
But that wasn’t true either. His uncle had pulled strings to set him on this path to becoming a Royal Saboteur. He’d helped Duncan get a position in the Foreign Office. From there, Duncan had worked his way to undersecretary. He’d wanted to show his uncle that he deserved the chance he’d been given.
“I suppose we all feel the need to prove something. It’s not all loyalty to Crown and Country that motivates us to join the Royal Saboteurs.”
“That’s not what motivates me at all,” she said. “I just want to blow things up.”
He turned to face her, but she was doubled over with laughter. Duncan laughed too.
“You know, I’m only half joking,” she said.
“I know. That’s what scares me.”
“Is that the feeling you have for me?” she asked, her laughter dying away. “Do you always kiss people who frighten you?”
Duncan’s smile faded. “You intrigue me,” he said. “That’s why I kissed you.”
“It was a nice kiss,” she said.
“Not like kissing your brother?” he asked.
“Surprisingly not, though I don’t believe for a moment you are the scoundrel you are pretending to be. If you’re just behaving that way to convince me to kiss you again, it’s not working.” She sounded as though she was trying to convince herself of the truth in her words. He had her, if not persuaded he was a scoundrel, uncertain.
“It worked earlier,” he pointed out. “Besides, have you ever considered that even if I’m the model agent now, I might have a checkered past.”
Her brows went up, and she leaned closer. “A checkered past? NowI’mintrigued.”
And here was the fork in the road. He could keep playing the scoundrel, ensure she was charmed, perhaps even seduce her. But was that what he really wanted? To play a role—and one he detested? It had been an idiotic idea from the start. Why hadn’t he thought it through? He might capture her attention by playing the scoundrel—clearly, he had—but now what? Now he would have to play that role forever? No. Either she liked him for who he was or not at all. He liked her too much to play more games.
“As much as I’d like to use your intrigue to my advantage, it’s not who I am. You’re right. I’m not a scoundrel, and I don’t want to pretend to be. Even if that means you’ll only think of me as a brother.”
“You’re willing to give up so easily?”
“You don’t want me to give up?”
