Page 65 of Stolen and Seduced By the Duke

"You are," Nathaniel insisted, accepting his own glass with a gracious nod to the servant.

"Will you be breaking fast this morning with us, Your Grace?" the servant asked.

"Yes, bring whatever is hot and abundant for us both," Pierce said.

The servant bowed and left the two gentlemen.

Nathaniel continued to tease his friend. "It is a very small smile, but I know you well enough to recognize the type of smile. Either you have visited an old mistress, or you have finally consummated your marriage."

Pierce gave him a long, cold stare over the rim of his glass. "I will not speak of such things with you."

Nathaniel grinned. "Very well. Since you have apparently become a gentleman of mysterious virtue, why have you called me to meet you here? I was still in bed entertaining a … morsel this morning when I received your message."

"You are an insufferable fool," Pierce said.

"Yes, and you used to be one as well, only now your hand is held to marriage, and the debauchery is left to me," he said, smiling. “I shall have to disport myself twice as hard to make up for the lack.”

"I asked you to meet me here to discuss some news," Pierce replied.

"That is intriguing. What is the news you wished to discuss?" Nathaniel asked.

Pierce set his glass aside and leaned back, his amusement fading into something more serious. "I received word this morning from one of my investigators. We have a new lead concerning the woman who left Hugh at Ravenfield."

Nathaniel straightened, his expression becoming attentive. "The woman from the masquerade?"

"Yes," Pierce replied, tapping one finger against the arm of his chair. "An unknown woman, travelling without a chaperone, was seen taking a carriage south shortly after leaving my house that night. We have not yet identified her, but the direction of travel gives us something to investigate."

Nathaniel took a thoughtful sip of his port. "I fail to see why you look so pleased about it. You have Hugh. You have a duchess. Your household is finally in order. Why trouble yourself with ghosts?"

Pierce's jaw tightened. "Because she may not be a ghost."

His thoughts returned to the note that had been left with Hugh, to the impossible revelation it had contained. For two years he had lived with questions about Augusta, questions no one had been willing to answer. Her father had told him she was dead and the infant did not survive, yet had shut him out of the funeral arrangements and refused to provide anything beyond the barest details. Now Hugh was alive, and someone had known precisely where to leave him.

"I need to know what happened," Pierce said quietly. "That woman knows something about Augusta. Perhaps she knows everything."

Nathaniel studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. I shall help you investigate."

Pierce looked across at him and gave a brief nod. "Thank you."

"Do not thank me yet," Nathaniel replied, settling back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I may require payment."

Pierce sighed. "What do you want?"

"The truth about your duchess."

Pierce's brows drew together. "What about her?"

Nathaniel smiled broadly. "She has kept you away from half the gaming tables and every disreputable supper in London for longer than any woman I have ever known. I am beginning to suspect she possesses supernatural powers."

Pierce almost laughed. "Margaret is not supernatural."

"She wore a Flora costume and marched into a room full of gentlemen demanding scandal. I maintain that the evidence is compelling."

Pierce shook his head, but despite himself, a smile threatened again. Margaret had become a persistent presence in his thoughts, far more persistent than he cared to admit. She was spirited, unpredictable, and entirely unwilling to behave according to the rules he had spent his life imposing upon himself and everyone around him. Worse, he found that he liked her defiance.

A brief image of how he had pleasured her the night before entered his mind, making the room feel too warm and close. He placed a finger in his cravat and loosened it.

"She is the sort of woman who makes me lose my mind," he admitted, turning his glass slowly between his fingers. "She is unpredictable, infuriating, and utterly irresistible."