Free Outlaw's Angel by Colleen Quinn

I have remarked,” the earl continued, “you have not been seen at court recently. One might think you do not fully support our king.”
    “Is that why you have come?” the duke asked patiently, playing with the earl like a lion with a shrewd and clever mouse. “To question my loyalty to his highness?”
    “Should it be questioned?”
    The Duke of Sutcliffe smiled. “I should think not. I have given my unstinting support to the Hanoverian dynasty. My mere presence at court or lack of it indicates nothing. You are aware that my family is presently involved in our own difficulties?”
    “I heard,” the earl nodded. “I wish to extend my sympathy. Your son’s fiancée was abducted by the Angel?”
    “It appears that way,” the duke said. “Her family has given a description of the man involved. It coincides with that of this Angel.”
    “It is unfortunate that the man wears a mask,” the earl said thoughtfully. “We would have him in a minute if we knew what he looked like. No doubt, he mingles among the very men he robs. He may be at my elbow tomorrow evening, at Almacks. I may pass him at the gaming halls this week. I may even sup with him this very night, at the club.”
    “The Outlaw Angel,” the duke continued, seeing the lines tighten around the earl’s eyes at the mere mention of the name. “You would stand to lose everything if this man succeeds, would you not? Your lands, your following. Even your title and connection with the king would offer little protection should this man succeed in garnering the Highlanders’ support.”
    “He will not succeed!” the earl spat, losing his temper. His face flushed, he glared at the English duke, regretting his emotions the moment they became evident. “He will not succeed,” he repeated, calming himself. “He will be caught, and hanged at Tyburn. If I have to destroy the entire MacLeod clan, Kyle will be stopped.”
    “I see,” the duke said, inwardly delighted. One always had the edge when one’s opponent was forced to reveal his hand prematurely. “So what does all this have to do with me? Other than my involvement with Miss Travers’s abduction?”
    “Why, it has everything to do with you,” the earl said, smirking. “No doubt this Angel will contact you shortly, for ransom purposes. I assume you will report such an event as soon as it occurs?”
    “Of course.”
    “And nothing has happened to date?”
    “Not that I am aware of.”
    “Good.” The earl smiled, his pale face stretching across fragile cheekbones. “I had an interesting visit from Lord Woodruff last night. Do you know him?”
    “I believe he is an acquaintance of my son’s,” the duke answered. “Stupid lad, with a penchant for whist.”
    “Nevertheless, the man came to me with a curious story. One having to do with gaming debts and a payment in emeralds.”
    The duke’s face was reflected clearly in the fire, yet showed nothing. He simply shrugged and refilled his glass with a steady hand.
    “And what of it? I know nothing of emeralds or debts.”
    “Perhaps you don’t, but your son does.”
    “What has Devon to do with this?”
    “Everything. It seems he gave Lord Woodruff an emerald in payment for debts. An emerald that milord lost soon after. A curious gem. Lord Woodruff couldn’t forget it.”
    “Curious? How so? One gem looks like the next,” the duke said.
    “Not if it was the stone I am thinking of,” the earl said, barely containing his glee. “The noble’s jewels, a fortune that once adorned the lovely throat of Lady MacDonald. The gems were unlike any other; every shade of green was represented there, from the palest lime in the base of the gem to the darkest emerald at the center. They reminded milady of the glens in Scotland. Fanciful, I know.”
    “You seem an authority,” the duke said quietly. “Whence this wonderful knowledge?”
    “I saw them.” There was a wistful note in the earl’s voice, gone in a moment like a sparrow’s song.