Free The Duchess and the Spy by Marly Mathews

tell?” he inquired. He stood up to his impressive height, and leaned toward Merryville.
    His friend craned his neck to stare up at him, frowning when he glanced past him.
    “Speaking of bastards,” he said cryptically.
    Christopher wrinkled his brow. “Would you just get on it with it?” he demanded.
    “Ah, yes, death to the British!” Merryville supplied solemnly.
    Merryville picked his whisky glass up, and raised it to his lips. “Think I’ll get ape drunk. Then, I’ll go and see my sweet Nellie.” His eyes filled with contentment, and he looked as if he were about to take a trip to paradise.
    “You do that old man. Just mind your tongue. We don’t need you giving any bloody secrets to that trollop.” He gave Merryville a stern look of warning, and fixed his stiff cravat.
    “Her ladyship ain’t a trollop. She is a woman of breeding,” he retorted defensively, scowling at Christopher.
    “Yes, you keep telling yourself that Merryville. She married a title. So, technically that makes her respectable, even if she is a whore.” He smiled at Merryville’s look of disgust, and ambled away.
    “Hells Bells, would you bloody well look were you are going,” he said, as he nearly collided with the pompous imbecile that Merryville spotted only moments before. He snorted loudly, when the bastard made the mistake of trying to catch his audience. He was already in a foul mood. This wasn’t the most opportune moment for his cousin to pester him.
    “Wyndham,” Austin Blanding, the only son of the third Viscount of Blakeley placed a restraining hand on his shoulders. His eyes rested dangerously on Austin’s hand, and he quickly removed it from his shoulder. “I’ve heard some disturbing news considering your young delightful sister. It seems she’s about to place herself out on the marriage mart. You don’t suppose she’d be willing to consider the son of a viscount, who has aspirations to become an earl someday?”
    For one brief moment, he seriously considered breaking Austin’s nose.
    “Our uncle has a son, Blanding,” he said, barely keeping his anger in check. “Don’t bet on earning that title too prematurely.”
    He really didn’t think his mother would mind too much if he wiped the floor with Austin’s face. As long as he didn’t kill Austin, she’d be happy.
    “Yes. Well, the stupid fool hasn’t been heard from in months. No doubt he’s lost at sea. Our idiotic government probably hasn’t been able to report on his loss, since his father is so bloody influential,” Austin remarked snidely. He carefully flicked a piece of lint off of his ivory colored jacket, stiffening when Christopher stepped toward him.
    Christopher itched to have a go at him. He was the best pugilist at White’s, and the men sure as hell wouldn’t mind. They welcomed any form of entertainment, hell, they’d readily lay bets on the outcome.
    “I sincerely hope that you aren’t wishing for William’s untimely demise?” His voice was laced with coldness. He knew he had a murderous look on his face, and yet Blanding didn’t seem ruffled in the slightest. “Oh, and if I were you, I’d sensor that wide trap of yours. After all, in times of war, one would almost call your dismissal of our government as being traitorous. Listen well, William is by no stretch of the imagination lost at sea. When we do bludgeon Napoleon out of existence, and do be sure that we will, I shall have cause to bloody that priggish face of yours. But at the moment, I am dealing with a personal loss. So you can either step aside willingly, or I shall use my fists to move you.”
    Not surprisingly, Austin quickly ducked out of his way. Christopher emerged out onto the bustling and noisy street, and replayed the events of the previous night, over and over again in his mind. There were no survivors, and that meant that Elphinstone was gone for sure.
    As soon as he walked into Covington House he decided that if he moved fast, he could slip back out