“I daresay Papa will applaud me for my foresight.”
“The foresight of handling matters on your own without informing the head of your family that you are in trouble?”
“How patriarchal of you.” Her tone turned sour. “Why are you siding with my father before he’s even had the chance to say a word?”
“I’m merely pointing out minor flaws in your plan.”
“Well, I can handle my father. Anyway, why should it bother you what he thinks? Aren’t you supposed to be mortal enemies?”
“We have our differences.” To say the least.
A loud snort of disbelief. “I believe it’s more than that.”
“What about you, Lady Louisa? Are you my mortal enemy?”
“You have not given me a reason to be, Duke.”
He nodded. “That is good to hear.”
She stepped up to him, forgetting her earlier outcry against closeness, and said in a low voice, “I find this all rather thrilling if I’m honest.”
Oliver’s brows furrowed. Were all women so impossible to comprehend? “Do you mean consorting with the enemy?”
She flashed her teeth. “Of course.”
He thought so. Nothing about the heiresses this season wasnormal. Oliver thought of his mother. Just last month she had helped a lady escape marriage merely because the chit didn’t wish to be leg shackled so soon. Yet at the same time, she scolded him for not yet taking a bride.
How was he to understand this logic? He didn’t want to marry so soon either.
Perhaps in another twenty years or so he would revise his thoughts. Presently, the very word “marriage” held nothing but notes of suffocation. Why were mothers so interested in their children’s prospects, anyway? Oliver knew his duty, knew what needed to be done. But there was still plenty of time to do it. And if he did, for whatever reason, fail to see his duty of producing an heir through, well, there was always his cousin who could rise to the occasion. Apparently, he was actually quite fond of rising.
Besides, he had a mission at the moment: to put a stop to this secret organization. He also wasn’t so arrogant as to believe that cutting off the head of a snake like this was enough to prevent another from appearing. If all went to plan, his goal was to capture the head and shed light on the body, ensuring they could long longer operate in total secrecy.
There would be eyes on them.
Watching, waiting.
Perhaps after this hunt, if a bloody miracle were to change his mind, he would give his mother what she wanted most. Adaughter-in-law followed by a grandchild. But such a thing was hardly likely.
His gaze flicked to Lady Louisa.
She reminded him a bit of his mother. Not in a strange way, but she had the same pluck only a few women possessed. Only a scarce few ladies, in his view, were bold and brave enough to stand upon their own views and stick to them. It didn’t mean they all rebelled against society exactly. But they knew what they wanted, and they didn’t compromise.
He admired that in Lady Louisa.
But the book had become problematic. Since he’d captured Lady Ridgeland, who was still being detained at the moment and out of communication with her associates, he had assumed that because one of the heiresses possessed the book, it would remain safe, for the time being at least. No word should have reached the Duchess of Talbot about the finer points of his actions or his aims. But the moment his role was revealed, the moment his mission came to light, who could say what the secret organization would do to thwart him?
He had to be smarter from here on out.
“Shall we start today then?” Oliver asked Lady Louisa. “The role of footman, driver, protector, and right-hand man.”
She nodded. “Follow me.” She parted the curtain of leaves and strode across the grounds to the door she had exited from earlier, Oliver following in her wake. The moment he stepped over the threshold, a sense of foreboding skittered down his spine.
A warning.
Of what, Oliver couldn’t say.
But he had entered the lion’s den with the lion’s cub. There were sure to be consequences.
