Page 120 of The Dueling Duchess

He wanted to yell and smash things. “Blade, what the devil aren’t you telling me?”

“Blanchard was married at the time and he’s quite a bit older than Cecile. Though she might refer to him as a cousin, the age difference between them was more that of an uncle and niece. Keep in mind she came to him at fourteen . . .”

Guy felt sick at the thought of a fourteen-year-old girl in the hands of an exploitative, unscrupulous man, which Blanchard must certainly be if he’d stolen her idea.

“What do you think happened?” he asked, not sure he wanted to know.

“I think you need to tell Cecile what you are doing and ask her these questions.”

“You are right.” He could see by her startled expression that his answer had surprised her. “And I will do so, I promise. I just wanted . . . something to give her.” He glanced down at the packet in his hands. “I’ll look at this contract and see if I can make anything of it. I know there are ways to get out of a contract,” he said. “But I’m not sure what exactly they are.”

“Contracts with minors aren’t enforceable,” she volunteered.

Guy was going to ask her how old Cecile was when she signed, when Angus glided into the alley, slowing his speed to a hover before landing on Blade’s shoulder.

He winced. “Lord, don’t his claws hurt?”

She didn’t appear to hear him, her gaze pensive.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Blanchard turned around almost immediately after filing for the patent and sold it to Guthrie. It is the reason Guthrie’s company won the first of their big government contracts.”

“So you think the two are conspirators to defraud Cecile?”

“I don’t know. But I’m going to poke around a bit more.”

“Good idea,” Guy said. “Unless, er, does that mean you’re going to break into his business or house?”

“The less you know, the better.”

He opened his mouth to argue, and then decided that was probably true. “Did you find anything out about Barry?”

“Not about Barry, but about the child. He’s not your cousin’s son.”

Guy’s jaw dropped—something it seemed to do a lot in conversations with Blade. “How—what—”

“Did you ever see the fellow who serves as his batman?”

Guy had to think a moment and was ashamed to admit that he rarely noticed servants.

“He’s hard to forget—he’s got an eye patch.”

“Ah, yes, I did see him. He’s Barry’s valet?”

“In name, he is. But he is also in charge of the stables, and the servants in the house seem to go in fear of him, even the butler.”

“Hodge is afraid of him?” Guy asked, stunned.

She nodded.

“Good God! I was always in awe of Hodge. He was my grandfather’s butler before he was mine and I think even Grandfather feared him.” Guy snorted. “Lord, this man—what did you say his name was?”

“John Norton.”

“He must be terrifying.” He frowned. “But what does this have to do with Barry’s son—isn’t his name Alan?”

“Yes. Except Alan is Norton’s son, not your cousin’s.”