Free The Secret Duke by Jo Beverley Page A

“Why a tame revel? Hardly in your style.”
    “Perhaps I’m adjusting my style.” Thorn didn’t want even Christian and Robin probing his plans, however, so he waved the paper still in his hand. “Lady Fowler? I agree it’s regrettable, but a vow is a vow, especially when it requires us to pay not just for the folly of marriage, but for the folly of framing such a vow in the first place.”
    Robin rose to snatch the paper from Thorn’s hand to reread it. “There’s nothing in here about how I pay.”
    “True. What do you have in mind?”
    “Anonymity. It’s one thing to give her the money, but another for her to know it comes from me. She’d probably blast it around the world in her plaguey letter. Perhaps even claim it as proof that her accusations were correct.”
    “She would, wouldn’t she? Very well, I’ll funnel it. I have so many lawyers and bankers concerned with my affairs, Lady Fowler will never know where the money comes from.”
    “Thank you, thank you, thank you, beloved cousin.” Robin took a stiff drink of brandy. Then he smiled. “Good practice for when you fall. Odds on you’re next.”
    Christian laughed, but Thorn said, “You might be right.”
    “What?” Christian exploded. “Thorn, Thorn, think of another thousand guineas to the Fowl Fund.”
    But Robin asked, “You’re in love?” with all the bright excitement of the new convert.
    “No. And having watched you over the past little while, it seems a contagion much to be avoided.” He sipped his brandy. “There was an incident on the Swan a month ago. Simple mischance in a storm, but it could have been the end of me. I am the last of my line.”
    “But it’s the only pleasure you have,” Christian protested.
    “Not true, but yes, being master of the Black Swan is an important part of me. I’ve given it up for now. One or, better, two boys in the nursery and I’d be free again.”
    “Do you know how long that could take?” Christian asked.
    “I believe I’m tolerably competent at arithmetic.”
    “Three or more years away from the Black Swan ? You can’t do it.”
    “I can do anything I set my mind to.”
    “You should marry,” Robin said. “No, I’m not speaking as the besotted lover. You need a family, and the only way to truly have one is to make your own. Anyway, it’ll shake up your orderly life beyond reformation.”
    “There’s nothing wrong with my orderly life,” Thorn said, keeping tight rein on his temper. “And I’ll be cast into turmoil only if I fall in love. I intend to make a rational marriage to someone perfectly suited to the burden of being a duchess.”
    “You’re not serious, are you?” Christian asked.
    “I doubt I have the temperament for mad passion.”
    “Yes, you do. I’ve seen you on the Swan .”
    “A ship might be female, but she’s not a woman.”
    “But the fire’s in you. It’ll flare one day.”
    “What about you?” Thorn demanded. “You’re a veritable inferno.”
    “And can burn freely. With a clutch of brothers, I carry no responsibility at all.”
    Robin raised his glass. “To the fact that one of us is completely free!”
    They all drank and another fractious moment passed, but it was time to end this. Thorn captured the decanter before Robin could top up glasses again. “You have to be coherent tomorrow.”
    “Today,” said Christian, standing and stretching. “It’s gone one. Get to bed, Robin, or you’ll disappoint your bride.”
    “Never happened yet,” Robin said, smiling blissfully, but they took their leave.
    As they walked down the corridor, Christian said, “He’s happy.”
    “Yes.”
    They’d arrived at Thorn’s room, and Christian followed him in. Thorn’s valet slipped away.
    “Why are you so antagonistic toward Lord Rothgar?”
    It was a serious question, so Thorn considered his answer. “He holds too much power, especially in his influence with the king. Someone, perhaps many, need to provide a counterbalance, and I have