The duke was lucky he wasn’t dead, or worse.
“Those are some ugly knuckles you’ve got there,” the iceman, a skinny fellow with a head as bald as an ivory cue ball, remarked as he climbed out of the well and handed Kincaid a slab of ice wrapped in a dirty, brown cloth.
“You should see the other bastard.” Fishing a shilling out of his pocket, Kincaid paid for the ice and immediately applied it to his throbbing hand before he headed towards home.
He’d been so enraged, he had forgotten to untuck his thumb when he punched, and was paying a fine price for such an amateur mistake. His entire arm throbbed like the dickens, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if one, if not more, fingers were broken.
Still, the pain was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of watching Telford crumple to the ground…and the knowledge thathe’dput him there.
The sheerragethat had flowed over him…it was like nothing he’d experienced. And nothing he hoped to experience again. For the duke wasn’t the only recipient of his anger. He hadtoldJoanna to stay put, hadn’t he? Remain on the bench, he’d said. Wait for him to return, he’d said.
Yet what had she done at the first opportunity?
Run off to a garden filled with naked statues of men.
Naked,well-endowedstatues of men.
And a foxed duke who should have known better than to go chasing after his woman.
Everything inside of Kincaid stilled.
Including his heart.
Bloody hell.
Hiswoman?
Joanna Thorncroft wasn’t his.
She was…she was a menace to society, that’s what she was. And he just happened to have gotten himself sucked into the storm of chaos that seemed to follow her wherever she went. That didn’t mean he thought of her ashis. That would be…that would be ludicrous.
Almost as ludicrous as taking a gorgeous American he hardly knew to a damnedpleasure gardento search for her sister who he didn’t know at all.
“I need a drink,” he snapped at James and Jane as he let himself to his house and went straight to the liquor cabinet in his office. The two cats trailed after him, their petulant meows a reminder that they hadn’t yet received their dinner. Dumping what remained of the rapidly melting ice in a bucket, he glared at the felines. “Go catch a mouse. That’s what you’re here for, and there’s plenty of them scurrying about in the attic.”
Jane, the shyer of the two, darted away.
James merely sat on his haunches at his master’s feet, opened his mouth, and yowled.
“All right, all right.” Cringing at the horrendous sound, Kincaid rummaged around in a cabinet with his good hand and managed to procure half a loaf of bread and hunk of hard cheese. There was no telling how long they’d been in there, but James didn’t seem to mind. Tearing off a piece of bread for himself, Kincaid poured a glass of whiskey and nursed it by the window.
Clouds obscured the sky, blocking out the stars and the moon and turning London as black as pitch save for the intermittent glow of cast iron lamp posts. Somewhere out in all that inky darkness were the peelers, combing the streets and the alleys and the docks. Four years ago, he would have been out there with them. Risking life and limb to protect a city that didn’t give a damn about him. Now, he was in his house with his cats, trying not to let his mind be led astray by a titian-haired beauty with eyes as blue as the ocean and the most temptingly kissable mouth he’d ever seen.
It was a miracle, really.
That he hadn’t kissed her yet.
God, did he want to.
Truthfully, he didn’t know if he’d ever wanted anything more.
And that terrified him more than when he’d found himself on the wrong end of a pistol after he was sent to break up a brawl at a riverside pub.
Grimacing, Kincaid sipped his whiskey, then took a bite of the bread before promptly spitting it back out. Hell, but it was stale. Like chewing on an old rubber shoe. Chasing the taste out of his mouth with more whiskey, he happened to glance down and saw James looking up, his yellow eyes slanted in annoyance.
“It’s not my fault,” Kincaid said defensively. “When I bought the bread it was fine. Try the cheese.”
Lowering his head, James gave the cheese a dainty sniff, then abruptly recoiled and batted at it with his paw.
