Free If He's Dangerous by Hannah Howell Page B

a carriage.”
    Argus sat but slowly, making sure that the duke was intending to sit as well. Many outside of Sundunmoor would not take Lorelei’s father for such a highborn lord, he thought as he studied the man, certainly not by ones who did not know him. Argus was not sure he would have guessed that he was facing a duke if the man had not come in with Lorelei and did not have eyes very similar to hers. His clothes were of fine quality but somewhat rumpled. His graying brown hair looked as if he had run his fingers through it many times and never bothered to check his appearance before leaving the privacy of his rooms. There was no air of arrogance about the man, no inbred sense of privilege.
    There was, however, a look in the man’s eyes that told Argus this man was no fool. Roland Sundun, His Grace, the eighth Duke of Sundunmoor, had a sharp intelligence. It made Argus a little uneasy to have that intelligence fixed upon him.
    â€œYou have apparently been my guest for a sennight and I decided it was best if I made your acquaintance,” said the duke and smiled at Argus. “The lads who helped bring you here told me so, just before they decided there were some things they desperately needed to see to at home.”
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    â€œRotten little cowardly weasels,” Lorelei muttered, but quickly smiled sweetly when her father glanced her way.
    â€œLorelei, m’dear, I think Sir Argus and I would like something to drink and, mayhap, a bite of something to eat,” the duke said, smiling at his daughter with a sweetness to equal hers. “I am sure you can find something for us. In the kitchens.”
    Lorelei opened her mouth to dispute that gentle command and then quickly shut it. Her father had that look in his eyes, the one that said he was the father, and the duke, and she had better do as she was told. She curtsied and went to find some drink and food, intending to get back to the room as fast as she could.
    Roland had to bite back a laugh. His daughter had spirit. Far more than any of her three sisters had shown. He looked back at the man he had come to judge, the man who put that shine in his daughter’s eyes. Sir Argus Wherlocke was a fine figure of a man. The only thing that troubled Roland a little was the air of worldliness the man wore like a comfortable old coat. He was not sure his spirited but very sheltered daughter was a match for such a man, one who had done and seen a great deal in his life.
    Yet, she was still unwed. He did not care if she chose to remain so, if she was happy to remain a spinster, but Roland did not think a life as dear Aunt Lolly the spinster was what would make Lorelei happy. He trusted his instincts and they told him that his Lolly wanted a marriage, a good marriage with a good man, and children.
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    â€œHow is it that you fell into the hands of this man who foolishly believed he could steal a God-given skill?” he asked.
    â€œHe wished to meet to discuss some investments. I found nothing about him to suggest he was a threat and so I met with him.” Argus frowned. “I do not believe I missed anything, yet, once his prisoner, there was much about him that made me think he was a man with blood on his hands.”
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    â€œWhich could have been gained in the stews and thus been kept very secret. Few care or know what happens to those wretches. I fear that simply gives evil a safe play to hone its skills.”
    â€œI suppose it does.”
    â€œLorelei said that you believe this man has at least one ally.”
    â€œHe said we several times.”
    â€œ We could encompass a veritable mob of people,” murmured Roland.
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    Argus nodded. “My fervent hope is that it is, at most, two or three. A small committee of fools who have gotten this idea that they can steal away Wherlocke or Vaughn skills or be taught them. Men trying to get something that will give them a power they have been unable to gain on their