Free The Duchess and Desperado by Laurie Grant

discovered—and her lips thinned. “Oh, don’t be tiresome, Mr. Calhoun. I’ll be fine. Mr. Wharton merely thought I might like some air.”
    I’ll just bet he did, Morgan thought, fixing his piercing gaze on the mining magnate until the other man’s eyes fell.
    â€œI’m afraid I’ll have to agree with Mr. Calhoun, your grace,” said Lord Halston, who had suddenly appeared at Morgan’s side in time to hear the last exchange. “It would be most unwise.”
    â€œMy dear duchess, what on earth are they talking about? Have you been threatened?” Wharton demanded.
    Her face smoothed out as she looked at Wharton. “It’s nothing, Mr. Wharton. Truly. They’re just being cautious. Isn’t there some quieter room to which we can go and chat some more? I vow, all this noise is giving me a headache!”
    â€œCertainly, your grace,” Wharton said with a genial smile—a smug smile that Morgan wanted to wipe off the man’s ginger-cat face with his knuckles. “The governor has a small library downstairs where we may be private, I’m sure. If that’s all right with your...guardians,” he said with deliberate provocation.
    Morgan’s fists clenched at his side as he struggled to be polite. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lord Halston bristling and white-faced. Good for you, Halston.
    â€œI reckon that’s all right, if I can go with you and check out the room first, and then I’ll stand outside the door and make sure no one else comes in,” he said.
    â€œWell, it’s not all right with me,” Sarah Challoner snapped, her eyes blazing with blue fire at Morgan and Lord Halston alike. “You two are smothering me, and I won’t have it. There is absolutely nothing amiss in my speaking to Mr. Wharton privately, and if you wish to continue in my employ, Mr. Calhoun, you’ll stay upstairs, is that clear? Come, Mr. Wharton, show me this library.”
    Morgan stared at her retreating figure as she left the reception room. Life was too short to put up with a woman so obstinate she wouldn’t even accept guidance when she’d asked for it. He could be back at the boardinghouse within the hour and heading for the mountains day after tomorrow, a free man. And the duchess could go to blazes.
    Then he felt Lord Halston’s hand on his shoulder. “I’d like to apologize for my niece’s behavior, Calhoun. I’ll speak with her later, get her to see reason. I—I’d take it as a personal favor if you wouldn’t quit without giving her another chance.”
    Morgan couldn’t have been more surprised if Lord Halston had suddenly sprouted a halo and wings, and it was the surprise that cooled his anger. “All right,” he conceded, “if you’ll talk to her, I’ll stay. I’m not going to go through this every time she disagrees with me.”
    â€œShe’s very headstrong,” the marquess admitted. “A result of her being raised as heiress to a duchy. The late Duke of Malvern treated her as if she were the son he’d never had. Once it was apparent she would be duchess one day, he encouraged her to make decisions on her own just as if she were a man. As her oldest male relative, I’ve tried to guide her as best I could, but...” He shrugged. “Sometimes that strong will leads her into error.”
    â€œI just hope that stubbornness doesn’t get her killed,” Morgan muttered, and stalked away to find a drink—a real one, not just that damn punch.
    Â 
    Crouched in the darkness outside the territorial governor’s residence, the assassin waited on the roof of the mansion next door to the governor’s. The owners of the mansion, who were present at the reception, didn’t know he was there, and since their servants had been lent to McCook for the evening, too, he’d had no difficulty stealing inside and making his