Reaper’s eyes bore into hers. “Your mother, on the other hand, is very much the bane of our existence with her club and their shenanigans. Do you really expect us to believe you are not also part of it?”
“Stepmother,” Louisa pointed out through clenched teeth.
“Same thing.”
“They are not the same thing, you simpleton, and I don’t rightly care what you believe.”
“Reaper,” the one called Maxen interjected. To Louisa, he said. “Forgive my brother. His tongue is sharper than his head.” Reaper growled at that, but Maxen continued, ignoring him, “This book is something the duchess wants, so when we heard it fell into your hands, we had to retrieve it.”
“How do you even know iffellinto my hands?”
“We have been following the book’s trail since it disappeared from White’s.”
“You mean you’ve been following the heiresses,” Mortimer said sharply, and Louisa sensed his displeasure.
Maxen said nothing.
Dear Lord, had they been spied upon from the very start? “How? You couldn’t possibly know who had the book at any given time.”
Reaper shrugged. “How else? A strategy as old as time.”
“Servants,” Mortimer muttered.
Reaper grinned. “And a bit of luck.”
Honestly, could you not trust anyone in this world?
“What’s done is done,” Mortimer said, his indifference back. “But we do require that book to deal with the matter of the secret women’s organization.”
“Well, what do you know,Duke?” Reaper said. “We needed it for the same reason.”
“I refuse to accept we are at an impasse,” Mortimer said. “There must be a sort of compromise we can come to?”
Louisa nodded. She was not leaving Brighton without the book. No matter what they had to do. Lord, what if Mortimer decided to break into these men’s property to find it next? They weren’t the sort of men to merely brandish a knife without drawing blood, were they?
“Maxen,” a voice came from the shadows. Another bulky man, but his face was partly obscured by a cap. Louisa couldn’t make out his features.
The brothers shared a brief look before Maxen inclined his head. “We shall exchange the book for something else.”
Louisa folded her hands over her chest, not the least bit surprised that she wasn’t surprised. There was alwayssomethingwith men like this. “Whatever it may be, you still owe a favor to my brother.”
“If you can deliver this,” Maxen responded, his dark eyes meeting hers. “Even though I never promised one, I don’t mind owing the future Duke of Talbot a favor if it’s within reason.”
Heh. Within reason. As if approaching a young boy to steal a book from his sister was within reason! “What do wish to exchange?”
“A ledger from the Countess of Havendish. It will most likely look like a brown leather journal of some sort. If you get it for us, you can have the betting book.”
Louisa paused, frozen, which drew a look from the duke.
“What is it?” he asked softly.
Her head tilted to him, meeting his gaze. “My father and stepmother ought to be at the Havendish estate in Worthing at the moment.”
“I see.”
“Why do you want this ledger?” she asked Maxen. “Is it the same as the betting book?” It had to be as useful—if not more so—if they’d exchange the book for it.
“More or less,” the man answered. “At least we won’t be at a loss trading the book for the ledger.”
