Free The Mercenary Major by Kate Moore

met Jack’s and slid away, and Jack saw again the puzzling moment under the oaks when the younger man had refused to shake his hand. So he had met his cousins after all.
    “Reg, dear,” said Letty, rising and glancing between the two silent men, “you must—”
    “Morning, Aunt Letty,” said the young lord, and turned to Jack.
    “Change your mind about shaking my hand?” Jack studied the young viscount. His own hand was at his side. His cousins apparently were as cold as the uncle who had cast off his mother.
    “Dash it all,” his cousin said. He looked like a raw recruit about to execute a distasteful duty without any conviction of its necessity. He drew himself up. “Sir, I am to tell you that you have no place here. You are a fraud, and unless you leave this lady and her household, his lordship, the Earl of Dorward, will investigate and expose your deceit and prosecute you to the full extent of the law. His lordship will allow you one week to reveal your true identity and remove to some other situation.” He paused, and his glance flickered briefly over the covered platters on the sideboard. Then with an air of strained resolution he continued. “My sister and I and our neighbor Miss Carr thank you for coming to our assistance yesterday afternoon.”
    Jack registered the name Miss Carr, and found himself suddenly amused by the situation.
    “Reg, how splendid that you’ve met Jack,” said Letty. “Sit down, dear, and tell me what this is about.”
    Reg backed toward the door, but his eyes wavered toward the sideboard. “I can’t, Aunt Letty, Father . . .”
    “Nonsense,” said Letty. She waved Jack back into his seat, rose, crossed to the sideboard, and lifted the cover on a plate of buns. “Come and help yourself, Reg, and when you’ve had a bun, we’ll decide what to do about this start of your father’s.”
    Jack could see a brief resistance in Reg’s eyes, but clearly there was as little conviction behind it as there had been behind his speech. By the time the scent of the sweet pastry had reached him, Reg had accepted a seat, and by the time he had consumed two of the fragrant buns, he was telling his aunt in some detail about the Favertons’ first week in town. Jack found the chief interest of the narrative to be the frequent, careless mention of Tory.
    It was at yet another mention of her name that he caught Reg Faverton’s eye, and the young man fell silent.
    “So, Victoria said what, Reg?” prompted Letty.
    Reg dropped his gaze from Jack’s. “She suggested that we investigate Major Amberly ourselves, but dash it all, that’s not what I came to London to do, and it seems dashed rude to be investigating someone who might be your cousin.”
    Jack swirled the last bit of coffee in his cup. Now he understood Letty’s eagerness to push him into the world of the ton . His mother’s family and friends believed him to be an impostor. Victoria Carr would not be deceived by his clothes and his connection to Lady Letitia. She would not mistake him for a gentleman. In fact, she was eager to prove he was something less. If Aunt Letty wanted him to fall in love with an heiress, Victoria Carr was one he could pursue without any danger to either of them.
    “Jack is your cousin,” Letty was saying.
    “You have proof, Aunt Letty?” asked Reg, plainly relieved at the earnestness of her tone. “Is there something we can show to Father?”
    “The proof is right in front of you, Reg,” said Letty with a wave of her hand, indicating Jack. “And I think you would do well to become acquainted with your cousin.”
    “Aunt Letty,” said Jack, “you put Lord Faverton—”
    “Lord Faverton?” said Reg. “Now that’s going too far. Even if you’re the biggest fraud in town . . . Major Amberly, you did save my bacon yesterday, and I can’t have you ‘milording’ me.”
    “Exactly,” said Letty. “Reg, you have fulfilled your father’s request, and as you promised you would investigate