“I am determined to save you from yourself.”
“Fuck you, Your Grace.” The appeal of the idea had grown throughout their conversation. Now the thought of his brother meeting his business partner shone like a beacon in the darkest night.
“Don’t worry about me. If you want to save someone, save our niece from her father and that harridan of a mother of his. You’re a bloody duke. You could have…”
“He is her father. The point is moot. I could not remove her from his care if I wanted to do so, which I do not. You have yet to tell me the source of your animus toward our brother-in-law.”
How could he? He’d sworn an oath. Even after all these years the promise made over his sister’s lifeless body silenced him. Or perhaps it was that telling her secrets meant revealing his own. “I’ll tell you my reasons for despising Breadmore when you tell me why you insist on defending him.”
“The name, Daedalus. I mean to have you out of this business one way or another. I would prefer not to do so by naming your partner in a public forum likeThe Timesor perhapsThe Guardianor both, but I will if that is what it takes to bring you to heel and return you to your position as my heir.”
The duke thought he had him there. Poor sod. Daedalus’s partner did demand a certain amount of anonymity, but unfortunately for His Grace was not the sort to ever give in to any man’s demands, duke or not. That much was certain. And the idea of his brother crossing swords with this person suddenly held a great deal of appeal. Evil, diabolical, delicious appeal.
“If you wanted my partner’s name you had but to ask. No need to set your ducal scent hound loose on my employees.”
His brother blinked. Very slowly, but he blinked. His Grace’s clumsiness and lack of speed in the motion was due, no doubt, to his distinct lack of practice. The Duke of Chelmsford never blinked. Simply one of the many unnerving aspects of the man’s character. Daedalus reveled in having made him do so, even if only the once.
“You don’t mind my knowing your partner’s name?” His Grace was obviously dumbfounded. Daedalus was enjoying a very good day indeed.
He reached into his desk and withdrew a calling card which he handed to his brother, relaxing his face into an expression of bland ennui.
“No need for your Whitehall minions. You had only to ask.” Daedalus took in his brother’s face as the man stood and perused the card. The bottom line was stamped with the symbol of Goodrum’s House of Pleasure - a ship under full sail, flying a pennant etched with a tiny skull-and-crossbones. Centered across the top was the name,Captain E. Goodrum, Proprietor. His expression betrayed no recognition of either the name or the image. Better and better. “I wish you good fortune, Your Grace. You’re going to need it.” The duke inclined his head ever so slightly and strode to the door.
“We cannot continue to visit the past and have any sort of life in the here and now,” his brother said without turning around. “I know you don’t believe it, but I mourn our sister too.” Then he did look back, his face suddenly that of the brother he remembered from his childhood. “It is good to see you.” He left the office before Daedalus could reply.
Dammit why did he do that? Why did Chelmsford suddenly turn human?
Little did the high and mighty Duke of Chelmsford know he was about to visit the past with a vengeance. And this particular past would hand His Grace his head and smile whilst doing so.
Much as Daedalus wished to witness this momentous event, he had more pressing matters to attend, the first being his meeting with Lady Honoria. For whilst he had one request to make of the elusive authoress of his favorite books, he suddenly had another request to make. When the question was the education of Daedalus’s beloved niece, Captain Leo Atherton’s new bride was the perfect answer. And the lady owed him a favor of sorts.
“Not if you look as if you’ve pissed yourself.” Daedalus pushed to his feet so quickly his chair fell over backwards and sent a stack of penny novels careening across the floor. He bent to pick them up.Thunk!“Bugger it to hell.” He touched the spot where his forehead caught the edge of his desk. Muttering the most vile language in his arsenal he scrambled in the open drawer until he found his spectacles, donned them, and staggered across his office to the privacy screen in the far corner.
He toed off his Hessians and stripped out of his tea-stained breeches. He tossed them and then his linen shirt across the top of the screen and began to wiggle into the clean nankeen breeches and shirt he always kept to hand in his office. Printing was a messy business. Not to mention Daedalus tended to find new and more inventive ways to muss his clothes with every passing day. A change of clothes close by was a necessary concession.
Ox’s heavy footsteps announced his arrival in the room. “Changing clothes already, guv’? ’er ladyship’s ’ere ter see yer. Spilled ’is tea when—”
“That will be all, Ox. Please have a seat, my lady, whilst I make myself presentable.” Daedalus wrestled to put on his boots and bumped into the privacy screen. Fortunately, he caught the brocade and ebony shield before it crashed to the floor.
Ox muttered something under his breath to which Lady Honoria laughed in delight.
“If you continue to flirt with the lady I shall be forced to speak with your wife,” Daedalus warned as he fought to poke his arms into his shirt.
“Yer a right cruel one ye are, guv’. I’m off then. Try not to spill anything on the lady.”
“Don’t get dressed for my sake, Lord Daedalus,” Lady Honoria called to him once Ox’s footsteps faded down the corridor. “If I were a man and as beautiful as you I’d never wear clothes at all. Rumor has it you have the finestarsein England.”
Daedalus’s entire body flushed with heat. “I thought that was you, my lady.”
“Leo could always paint you and me nude side by side and allow the Royal Academy to decide.”
“Number one on the list of things never to happen,” Daedalus said as he came around the screen and straightened his jacket and hastily tied neckcloth. “Your husband would shoot me if he caught my nakedarseanywhere near yours, and the captain is a crack shot.”
Lady Honoria, as always, was dressed in understated elegance. Her blue walking dress flattered her figure and suited her golden-haired, blue-eyed beauty to perfection. The former cavalry officer and talented artist she’d recently married, said marriage being a cause of great gossip and scandal, was a most fortunate man. Daedalus bowed over her hand and then settled into his chair.
“By the way, was that your brother I saw ducking into his carriage like a man leaving his mistress’s house as I came in?” Lady Honoria had to be the most direct woman of his acquaintance. They’d known each other since they were children, which could be a pleasure and at times could prove a proper pain in thearse.
“Yes.” Short answers gave the lady less to speculate upon.
