The three of them entered Rafe’s private box together. Cade still hadn’t got used to the large number of people who called his brother “my lord” and looked at him twice since they were mirror images of one another. One good thing about having been gone for so many years was the fact that no one outside of London had confused him for his brother. Well, except once. In London, it happened daily. Sometimes hourly. At least when they were together, they might get stares, but no one askedthatannoying question.
“What do you think of Danielle?” Daphne asked her husband as she settled into her seat in the box’s front row.
“Was I supposed to think something of her?” Rafe asked. “She was deuced helpful with the pocket watch. I’ll give her that. The woman’s got a good eye.”
“Who is Danielle?” Cade asked to be polite. The entire time, he searched the rows of seats filled with other theatergoers. Was the man he was to meet later here? Watching him? Making sure he’d come? Knowing him, he bloody well was.
“She’s my new lady’s maid. I hired her just this afternoon.” Daphne gave Cade her brightest smile. Like Rafe, Daphne was bright, pleasant, full of hope and heart. Nothing like Cade. Cade had seen too much of the world’s underbelly. Hope and heart were best left to people who’d experienced more joy than pain. He was nothing but pleased his brother had found happiness, but Cadeknewthat it would never happen for him. Love wasn’t for men like him. His brother was actually capable of making a commitment, being faithful, returning love, giving a damn.
Cade was imminently capable of returning love for say, the span of one extremely pleasurable evening, but any more of a commitment than that was asking far too much of him. No, he would never be meant for a proper little aristocrat like Daphne. He was more of a connoisseur of the type of women who liked to give pleasure and receive it with no questions asked or expectations to be met in the morning. And that’s exactly how he liked it. Leave the commitments, titles, and London town houses to his brother, the white sheep.
This black sheep was only in town long enough to get the information he needed. It had already taken far longer than he’d anticipated, and dressing in fine clothing and pretending to be a Mayfair gentleman were wearing on his nerves. Things were finally falling into place. The newspapers were tracking the Black Fox and Cade had made appointments with the men he needed to speak to. Things would soon be resolved. Then he would be on his way, back to where he belonged, which was everywhere, or anywhere, except here.
“She’s French,” Rafe offered.
“Who’s French?” Cade asked, his gaze still searching the enormous crowd piled into the theater.
“My new lady’s maid,” Daphne replied. “You aren’t even listening to me, are you?” Daphne huffed, settling her pink skirts around her. “I like that she’s French, Rafe. Just look at the darling way she arranged my hair tonight.” She turned her head so both men could see.
“You know I’m not the biggest admirer of the French,” Rafe replied, bitterness making his voice sharp.
Cade clenched his fist. He knew where that bitterness came from. During the war, one of Rafe’s many missions to France was with Daphne’s brother, Donald, the then Earl of Swifdon. The two had been captured and tortured. Donald had been murdered. Cade knew it was his brother’s biggest regret that he hadn’t been able to save the brother of the woman he loved.
Daphne, along with the rest of their friends, knew the details and didn’t blame Rafe. Not after what he’d been through. It had been a miracle Rafe escaped with his life. Last year, he’d returned to find the men who’d tortured him and killed Donald. He’d brought the lot of them to justice, with Daphne’s help, no less. Cade, or rather Daffin Oakleaf, knew even more than his brother did about who was behind Rafe’s capture and torture. The French would pay. And soon.
“She lived in Paris and knows all of the latest hairstyles and fashions,” Daphne added.
“Ah, yes, hairstyles and fashions are more important than thewars,” Rafe drawled.
“Danielle didn’t have anything to do with the wars,” Daphne pointed out. “Honestly, Rafe.”
“I agree with your wife,” Cade said. “An unsuspecting lady’s maid hardly seems like someone against whom to hold a grudge.” But Cade already didn’t trust the woman, either.
“How do we know she can be trusted?” Rafe asked, though he had a smile on his face.
Daphne rolled her eyes. “I’ve no reason to believe she’s a subversive agent for the French, for goodness’ sake. She’s a lady’s maid and came with excellent references.”
“French references?”
“No. Nice, solid,Englishreferences. You must be the most suspicious person I’ve ever met.” Daphne grinned up at her husband.
“Darling, must I remind you, I am a spy.” Rafe returned her smile, a sparkle in his eyes.
“On the contrary,” Cade interjected. “I am actually the most suspicious person you’ve ever met. You just don’t know me well enough to know it yet.”
“NowthatI’ll agree with,Mr. Oakleaf,” Rafe replied.
“Yes, you never did tell us,” Daphne said. “Why were you going by the name Daffin Oakleaf when you first came to town last year, Cade?”
“Because my brother has more aliases than a spy,” Rafe replied.
“Nonsense.” Cade straightened his cravat.
“You deny you have aliases?” Rafe asked.
“No. I deny I have more aliases than a spy has. I suspect we’re even.”
“Butwhydo you have aliases?” Daphne asked.
