My Dangerous Duke (31 page)

“I do.”

“Efficiently,” he retorted.

“Ah.” Perhaps he was right. Maybe she was better off not knowing the gory details. “Do you … ever wonder if some of them don’t deserve it?”

“They all deserve it,” he replied with a forcefulness that let her understand this was not a question he could permit himself to entertain. “They are evil. Killing one of them can mean saving thousands of innocent people. Besides, it’s not my role to ask questions. Others specialize in gathering the intelligence. I do some of that, but my specialty is eliminating the targets.”

“You mean killing them.”

“Yes. The decisions come down from the top. When the Order gives me a name, I carry out my objective.” He shrugged.

“I see.”

“Do you?” he inquired, staring keenly into her eyes.

“I think so.” She swallowed hard. “You’re telling me you’re kind of an assassin.”

“Not ‘kind of.’ ”

“Ah.” It was fortunate she was not the fainting sort. Sweet God in heaven, she had just become the mistress of a professional government killer.

Her head was swimming, but although she was shocked, somehow, she was not surprised. Things that had seemed out of place before were beginning to make sense.

Still, she could not believe Rohan had let her give herself to him without first admitting something this monumental. He must have known it might have changed her answer, and he had wanted his way.

She was beginning to think there was a side of her duke that could be a bit of a bastard. Of course, considering his profession, there would have to be, wouldn’t there?

He was staring at her rather formidably, arms folded across his chest as he waited for her to respond.

Kate was not sure what to say. She was not angry at him, per se, but what
else
did she not know about this man?

She knew he had not meant to hurt her, but a part of her felt as though she had been tricked into sleeping with him under somewhat false pretenses.

Even so, he was not the kind of man any sensible person should anger. In all, it was too late now for regrets.

“Say something,” he growled.

“Well—now I see why the smugglers were so terrified of upsetting you,” she forced out with a guarded attempt at humor.

“They don’t know about this.”

“Nevertheless—it explains a lot about you.”

He frowned as though he wasn’t quite sure how to take that.

“Why would the Order choose a duke for such dangerous work?” she asked. “Aren’t you too valuable?”

“To protect my country?” he countered. “No. Besides, it’s a matter of access. Most doors in the world are open to a man of my rank. It’s easy for me to get close to the ruling idiots who don’t even realize they’re in danger.”

“Ah.” She dropped her gaze, trying to wrap her mind around it. She recalled that first night when he had hosted the grand dinner party for two, how he had made some cynical jest about eluding the Grim Reaper.

Now the joke sent a chill down her spine.

She could feel him watching her intensely.

“You regret last night.”

“No.” She looked up swiftly at him. “But God, Rohan, you really should have told me.”

“I’m telling you now. It was not possible until I was sure that I could trust you.”

“Is that why you made love to me? To find out if I was a virgin?” She stood up with a sudden flush of anger. “Were you testing me again? Like you did that night at dinner when you scared me half out of my wits?”

He just looked at her.

“Oh, my God.”

“Kate—try to understand the risk that I’m taking, telling you these things. Only a handful of ministers in the cabinet and a few of the royals even know the Order exists. Everyone else believes it’s just a legend. The secrecy is part of what allows us to be effective. We answer directly to the Crown, but Prinny himself didn’t know the truth until the King’s illness grew severe. What my colleagues back in London are going to say when they find out I’ve brought you in on all this, I am not eager to imagine, especially with your Promethean blood.”

“What could they do to you?” she murmured warily.

He shrugged and shook his head. “Never mind that. The point is, I did not
have
to tell you any of this. I wanted to
because
I care, so don’t accuse me of indifference. I know how unsettling it’s been for you, not even being sure of your own name. I realize these answers are hard to hear, but I hoped that at least you could reach some sense of peace from finally hearing the truth. As for last night, well—damn it, I’m sorry if I’m not Lord Byron. I don’t write love poems. But I tell you on my honor last night meant more to me than you will ever know.”

She stared at him for a long moment. “I don’t care about love poems,” she said softly.

“Good,” he mumbled. “Because I’m afraid there are none forthcoming.”

Oh, Rohan. My Beast.
His disclosures were difficult to accept, but she had to admit that at least his explanation made sense. It also showed her why he had been pushing her away, despite the attraction between them. Until last night, he had not been entirely sure she was not his enemy.

His mistrust of her hurt, but at least he was being open with her now.

He cleared his throat, returning to a businesslike demeanor. “Now. One final point you need to understand.”

“Oh, Lord.” She braced herself. “What now?”

“There is a high probability that O’Banyon is working for the Prometheans. One of the cult’s top leaders, James Falkirk, was spotted in London a while back, and it’s possible he could be the ‘Old Man’ that O’Banyon mentioned to the Doyle boys.”

She furrowed her brow, recalling the bits they had pieced together so far. “Ah, right—the unnamed lord who got O’Banyon out of Newgate and paid him to kidnap me?”

“Yes.”

“So this James Falkirk could be the one who wants to lure my father back to land?” She tried to sound calm, but her heart was pounding.

He nodded. “According to our information, Falkirk is a true believer in all that occult hocus-pocus. He’s just the sort to become obsessed with unearthing the Alchemist’s Tomb. We’ve already discussed how your father may be the only man alive who knows where it is.”

“Right,” she murmured. “That’s why they kidnapped me, you said. To make Papa come back to England and show them where the Tomb is.”

“Well, to make things slightly more complicated, the Prometheans also captured one of our agents a few months ago. We believe James Falkirk is the one holding Drake, likely torturing him to try to turn him against us.”

“Dreadful,” she breathed.

“Indeed, but all this could work to our advantage. If O’Banyon answers to Falkirk, and Falkirk is holding Drake, then our expected rendezvous with your kidnapper might just help us track down our missing agent. From what our sources tell us, the only reason Drake hasn’t broken yet is because they’ve abused him to the point where he’s lost his memory. Whatever they did to him, the poor bastard’s mind somehow just shut down.”

Kate stared at him, paling. “I couldn’t bear it if something like that ever happened to you.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t. Drake should have never let himself be taken alive, and he knew that, but for whatever reason, he disregarded protocol.” His words came to an abrupt halt, and he lowered his gaze.

“You mean he should have taken his own life? Is that what you would do?”

He ignored the question. “You have nothing to fear, Kate. If they even try to come near you, I will tear them limb from limb.”

“I know you will,” she murmured. “It’s not for myself that I worry, but for Papa—if he really is alive.”

Rohan shook his head at her. “You just can’t let yourself believe it, can you?”

She gave him a pained look in answer. “Can you keep him safe, too?”

“Your old man?”

“I’m just the hostage, like you said. He’s the real target. Now that you’ve told me what these Prometheans are like, I’m terrified of what they might to do him.”

“Kate, he’s Gerald Fox. Your ‘Papa’ eats rusty grappling hooks for breakfast. The mere mention of his name had Caleb and his boys shaking in their boots. The Sea Fox, as they call him, he’s a bloody terror of the seas.”

She succumbed to a nostalgic smile. “That’s not how I remember him.”

“What do you remember about him?”

“To me, he was the kindest, tenderhearted, big old bear.”

“Well, you’re his little girl. No doubt you knew a side of him few others got to see.”

“Will you help him, Rohan?”

“Of course I will. For your sake.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Just then, a hasty knock pounded at his chamber door.

“Your Grace!” It was Eldred; his tone sounded urgent. “Caleb Doyle has just brought the letter—the one you’ve been waiting for!”

Kate drew in her breath. Her gaze flew to Rohan’s. “From O’Banyon?”

He stalked over and opened the door, plucking a small, folded note off the butler’s tray. “Thank you, Eldred.”

“Any further instructions for Mr. Doyle? He is waiting below.”

“No. Tell him he can go up to the tower room and visit his nephew if he wishes, as a reward for both their cooperation.”

“Very good, sir.”

Rohan nodded and closed the door, glancing at the front of the envelope as he sauntered back toward her. “Well, this should be interesting. It’s addressed to Denny Doyle.” He sent her a sardonic glance, then broke the seal, a dingy blob of dirty white wax.

She curled her lip in disgust, recalling O’Banyon’s leering face. “He hit me, you know,” she announced abruptly.

Rohan turned and stared at her with sudden, great stillness. “What?”

“Oops,” she said mildly. “I wasn’t going to tell you that.”

“O’Banyon. Hit. You.”

She shrugged.

“In the face?” he demanded.

“He slapped me because I was fighting him.”

“I see.” Rohan stared straight ahead, every muscle tensed. He suddenly looked very much like an expert assassin. “Well, he won’t do that again.”

“What are you going to do?”

One lifted eyebrow said it all.

“Oh, it didn’t hurt that much! I’m fine. There’s no need for anything excessive.”

“Stay out of it, Kate,” he said politely, then he shook open the note with cool and steady hands.

She looked askance at him in curious satisfaction.

She could almost taste the justice that she had hungered for constantly since her abduction. But now that she knew it was all but guaranteed, somehow, it didn’t matter so much anymore. Just knowing that Rohan was willing to champion her was enough.

“What does the blackguard write?” she asked, as he quickly scanned the three scrawled lines.

He handed it to her. “Looks like we’re going to London.”

“Are we?” she exclaimed, sitting up swiftly. “I’ve always wanted to go there! Though perhaps not under these circumstances.”

“Don’t you worry,” he said, tugging a length of her hair affectionately. “It’ll all be over soon, then I’ll give you a tour of the London I know.”

“I’d enjoy that,” she murmured, as he rose and walked off across the room. For a moment, she was distracted in spite of herself by his powerful male frame.

Her gaze swept up from his shiny boots, over the casual elegance of his day clothes, up the magnificent length of the man, to his black hair, then, when he turned around, his handsome face.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” She stifled a dreamy sigh. Even now that she knew the truth about him—that he was some sort of spy for the Crown, frankly, a killer, and a bit of a liar and a hardened bastard by necessity, as well—her attraction to him was every bit as strong as it had been last night.

Lord, she must be in bad shape, to have become his willing thrall. But truly, if she had a dozen virginities to get rid of, she’d have gladly given them all to him.

It was useless. To her, he was completely irresistible.

Uneasily, she tore her stare away from her protector and glanced down at the letter. She didn’t even like touching the paper O’Banyon’s grimy paws had handled.

“Package?” Kate tossed the note aside with an indignant snort. “How dare he call me that? And a rat-catcher’s shop, of all places? How very apropos.”

Rohan did not answer. He was all business now, collecting various items he intended to take with him, including the weapons case he’d had with him in the Hall of Arms.

“When do we leave?” she asked in trepidation.

“Tomorrow, dawn. We’ll get our preparations done today. With the weather this time of year, the journey takes at least three days. Much delay beyond that could raise their suspicions.”

She heaved a sigh, wistfully watching him take out more of his personal effects. “Do we have to go?” she asked idly. “I don’t want to leave.”

“Oh, really?” He cast her a smile. “I seem to recall a time not too long ago when this castle was the last place in the world you wanted to be. Aren’t you the girl who threatened to hurl herself into the sea to escape my wicked clutches?”

She gave him an arch look, but just in time, she bit back the answer that came to the tip of her tongue.
That was before I fell in love with you.

Good God.

She dropped her gaze at once. Fortunately, Rohan did not notice her astonishment at this realization but merely continued packing.

Oh, dear. She feared it was true. The real reason she had allowed last night to happen. It was also why she had specifically asked if he would be annoyed if she fell in love with him. She just hadn’t wanted to admit it to herself because until his scandalous offer last night, she had thought there was no way she could ever have him.