Warrick would take Mortimer’s word for it. He scribbled it down and sat back to eye his work.
“Forgive me for asking,” Mortimer spoke, “but are you certain you are creating this list for the right reasons? I heard about the duel at dawn today.”
Warrick wasn’t surprised. “Those ears of yours are admirably sharp.”
Mortimer shrugged. “That, and I have my eyes on the heiresses.”
“Because of the betting book?” Warrick asked, considering the man.
“Amongst other things.”
Warrick cocked his head. “Is your interest in the betting book not a bit too much?” He’d thought this for a while now.
“The club charged me with retrieving it,” Mortimer answered. “And once I start, I’m like a dog that’s got the scent of a bone. I won’t stop until I get my bone.”
“How self-aware of you.”
“Being titled isn’t my only good feature.”
“Humility is certainly not one either.”
“Ah yes,” Mortimer murmured. “What is this ‘humility’ you speak of?”
Warrick laughed. Amusement finally poked through his sour mood. “Do you have any leads on the book yet?”
Mortimer’s lips quirked. Not in amusement, nor in annoyance. It was one of those in-between smiles that couldn’t be placed. “No. I suspect the ladies are alternating the book between them. It’s impossible to guess who has it or who will be next in turn to collect it.”
“Have you thought about asking them for the book?”
“Would they hand it over?’
Maybe. Probably not. “I suspect that depends on their mood, as well as the reason for wanting the book back. I suggest finding a reason other than ‘White’s charged me.’”
Mortimer nodded thoughtfully. “What reason would be acceptable?”
“The truth.” Nothing else. “Those females will smell a lie before it’s had a chance to form on your lips.”
“White’s commissioned me—truth.”
“It might be White’s truth, but it’s not yours.”
A low chuckle, followed by a rare smile. “Why wouldn’t that be my truth?”
“A duke hired by a gentleman’s club to look for a betting book. Even I don’t completely believe it.” Whoever believes that must be as witless as a post.
“Is that so strange? I’m a member.”
“You might be a member, but your bloodhound determination to find your bone, on the other hand... one must wonder about your motivation.”
Mortimer nodded slowly. “I see.”
Warrick put the quill down and glanced at the betting book.
“You are going to secure that in the new book?” Mortimer asked.
“Yes.” He glanced back at the duke. “Will you stop me?”
Mortimer shook his head. “I wouldn’t dare.”
