Page 20 of Only a Duke (Ladies Who Dare #6)

Oliver frowned at the swinging item. “Are you ?”

“And what if I’m considering it?”

“The moment you set foot in that house, I’ll alert everyone of an imposter with a scar on his face.”

Reaper tossed the mask at him. “This damn scar,” he said, mockery thick in his voice. “Always a damn hindrance.”

“Then you shouldn’t have gotten cut there.”

The statement earned him a menacing look. “What about you, cavorting with the enemy’s daughter? That might leave a scar of its own.”

Oliver’s jaw tightened. No need to tell him that. He could feel it with every passing moment—each second with her dug deeper into his flesh. “At least I don’t browbeat ten-year-olds.”

“As my brother said, we asked, and he provided.”

Oliver scowled at the man. “He provided because he was a boy trying to protect his family. That lad took one look at you and saw danger. I wouldn’t be surprised if he even saw adventure.”

“You cannot fault us for that .”

“Why not?” Oliver challenged, his gaze steady. These men were rough but not fools. They had even offered sweets. “I can fault you on many things.”

Reaper plopped down on a patch of hay. “But you are not going to, are you?”

Oliver shrugged, his shoulders stiff with annoyance. “Only because I don’t wish to waste my breath on vermin.”

“We might be vermin, but we are still the vermin people need.”

Oliver arched a brow at the man. “And what people are they?”

Reaper leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Oliver. “People below the notice of a duke.”

“There are no people beneath my notice.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Reaper retorted, biting down a piece of straw. “You are but one man. We serve the majority, those below the consideration of you privileged few.”

Louisa called her brother a little brat, but this Fury... What a bloody brat . “Stop taunting me and do what you came to do.”

“I came to keep a watch on you.”

“Does keeping watch require you to use your mouth?”

“What can I do?” The man shrugged. “My mouth moves on its own, I don’t have any power over it.”

Oliver laid the full weight of his gaze on the man, who could be a bit younger than him, or at least the same age. “I went along with your brother’s requests, but do not believe for one moment that I need to.”

“Same here, Duke.” The man studied him, chewing his piece of straw. “So you choose to go after this organization because it is run by your ladies. What about us bastards? Will you come after us next?”

Oliver caught the dark note of curiosity in that question. “Trust me, Fury, you don’t want my eyes on you. For now, we need each other, after that, I don’t care what you do so long as you don’t care what I do.”

“Being the smart man you are, you must have figured out our plan, why we want the ledger.”

“You plan to absorb their routes.”

“Will you try to stop us?”

“Why would I do that?” He didn’t plan, nor did he want, to start a war with the likes of the Fury brothers. Some battles were better fought by those who had less to lose. “Do what you want.”

The man’s features turned disbelieving. “Aren’t you a man of self-justice?”

“I’m not that polite.” Oliver glanced at the crest of the carriage he guarded. The angel’s. He had taken on this battle because of his mother, but he would finish it for her. “I am very much a man of self-interest.”

Reaper chuckled darkly. “A true peer.”

Oliver shrugged. What could he say? “Yes.”

“So bloody blunt. Annoying.”

The corner of his lips lifted in a wry smile. “Is this not our strength, staying true to our nature?”

Reaper’s lips curled in a derisive smile. “True to our nature? Maybe for you. For the likes of me, staying true to my nature means you end up with a knife in your back. Aren’t you happy I’m steering clear of this ‘nature’?”

“Not untrue.”

“Then why does it sound as though you do not agree?”

“I don’t know if I agree, I don’t know if I don’t,” Oliver replied coolly. “But perhaps your nature is not as menacing as you think.”

“You mean I’m a puppy, not a wolf?”

Not a puppy, no. Oliver shrugged, not answering. Let the man draw his own conclusion.

“Hell. I wish Maxen were here to hear that. He’d have a good laugh.” He gestured to the mask. “So, will you let your little swallow fly in the lead, or will you spread your hawk wings and follow?”

Oliver glanced at the mask disregarded on a patch of hay. Truthfully, he didn’t mind taking the lead, he didn’t mind following hers either.

A first.

An absolute first.

He snatched up the mask, his finger running over its edges as he inspected it. “What if we don’t hand over the ledger when we find it?”

“Then you will never get the book.”

Oliver lifted his body from the stool, his gaze meeting Reaper’s. “I already have the book.”

The man scowled, spitting out the straw in his mouth. “What are you saying? We have it.”

“You have the original. Copies of the pages were made ages ago.”

Reaper unfolded from the hay and slowly rose to his feet as well, his body rigid with displeasure. “Then what the hell are we doing here?”

“The original book would be ideal, but maybe this ledger would be a bit more ideal for me.”

“My brother is with the heir of Talbot’s dukedom.”

Oliver straightened out his arms and shoulders. “You have not met my brothers, blood or not. Nor have you met Leo Talbot. I wouldn’t stack the odds against the lad.”

“You’ve grown fond of your nemesis’s offspring, especially the little bird.”

Had he? He certainly could not deny his body’s response, nor his mind which could not help but constantly drift her way. Yet none of that held much bearing when weighed against the facts of their situation. And he... had kept some important ones from her.

Himself.

That one word—himself—echoed back and forth in his mind.

Him? No matter how fond he’d grown of her, he couldn’t be anything to her, whether friend, acquaintance, or more.

And the fact that more even existed in his thoughts right now.

.. But it could never be him. His family had caused too much trauma.

There were still nights—very rare, but they came—when his dreams filled with her cries.

If she ever discovered the truth, she would finally see his family for what they were: foes, even though he himself didn’t consider them as such.

In any event, it was all moot, since he was merely testing the man’s response by threatening to make off with the ledger. And Reaper, except for a scowl and a growl, didn’t seem all that bothered.

Arrogant.

The man cleared his throat loudly. Oliver glanced at him. “What?”

He laid a set of neatly folded livery on Oliver’s stool. “You might need this.”

“Where the devil did that come from?” He’d only disappeared for a short while before returning with the mask, and he hadn’t seen any clothes. “Are you that confident I won’t back out from our understanding?”

Reaper shrugged. “Even if you do, we have our ways.”

And Oliver had his.

This was why he didn’t care to challenge the brothers. They would destroy each other in the process. Leave that to Bow Street or the constables who enjoyed the fight.

“If you don’t want to go, I don’t mind if I do,” Reaper said lazily, plopping down on the hay again.

“I’ll go,” Oliver replied, fishing out Lady Louisa’s note from his pocket and trailing a thumb over the ink.

“I thought as much. So eager to reunite with your lady.”

He was, but not for the suggestive reasons Reaper implied. Even so, the last sentence of her note that had caused his jaw to tense the moment he’d read it. Apparently, her stepmother was intent on introducing her to the Earl of Westbridgeson. It was written as a complaint but...

He didn’t like it.

“I need a favor.”

Reaper lifted his brow. “You want me to do something as horrible as enter as a servant, don’t you?”

“No,” Oliver said. “I need you to go visit some taverns in town and ask about Lord and Lady Havendish’s routines and if they have met with anyone that stands out.”

“Why?” Reaper asked skeptically.

“Call it a feeling I have.” Which had nothing to do with Lord or Lady Havendish or their ledger.

But everything to do with her .