I Married the Duke by Katharine Ashe

come. Or three months until he himself became duke. It all depended on a fragile widowed duchess and her unborn infant.
    Luc rubbed his scar. Casually, Cam turned his head away. But for the first time in six months, Luc did not have the urge to plow his fist into his cousin’s perfect face.
    “Still and all, Luc, the poor girl could probably use a man about the place.” Tony patted the hilt of his saber. “Best you hurry home.”
    “What is that monstrosity?” Cam passed an arch look over the sword. “Good God, Tony, it looks like the crown jewels.”
    “Family piece.” Tony’s chest puffed out. “My great-grandfather had it as a gift from King Willie himself after his smashing success at Cherbourg, don’t you know.”
    Luc stared distractedly at the glittering gems on the sword handle. A ruby caught his eye, but not nearly as large as the jewel on the little governess’s ring. He could not follow her to his chateau after all. It was for the best. He had no business courting trouble with a governess, no matter how brave and vulnerable and foolhardy she was, and no matter how her magnificent eyes looked at him with barely veiled desire and her tongue surprised him at every turn.
    He swallowed the brandy in his glass, all of it, as he had the night before when he shared the darkness with a beautiful little sodden servant.
    “I’ll leave the Retribution in Church’s command,” he said. “Will you head back to England immediately?”
    Tony snorted. “The Admiralty has commanded that I put my ship at your disposal. The Victory sails at your leisure. Again.” He grinned upon a scowl.
    Luc met his cousin’s dark gaze. Cam stared back at him, his eyes hooded.
    “Why did you really volunteer to bring me the news, Cam?”
    The corner of Cam’s mouth crept up. “Serendipitously, at the moment of our uncle’s demise I found myself with the pressing need to be absent from London.”
    “A woman, I presume.” Luc’s scar ached. Six months ago it had also been a scandal with a woman that drove his cousin from England to France. A girl, rather. But that time Cam had surprised him. His cousin’s vice had not been what Luc imagined. By the time he understood the truth of it, of course, it was too late. His eye had been the casualty of his misjudgment.
    Cam absently twirled the stem of his brandy glass. “It is always a woman that drives a rational man to behave contrary to his interests, Lucien. That you are too blind to see that”—he finally looked directly at the kerchief about Luc’s brow—“is no one’s fault but your own.”
    Luc scraped back his chair and rose. The door opened and the Victory ’s first lieutenant entered.
    “Captain,” the sailor said to Masinter, “we’ve interrogated Mundy. He’ll admit only that he was hired in Plymouth by a man he had never seen before to find the Retribution , join the crew, and steal poison from the infirmary. He was to await further orders when they arrived in Saint-Nazaire.” He turned to Luc. “I believe he is telling the truth, sir.”
    “Put the thumbscrews on the lad, did you?” Cam drawled.
    “He gave you no name for the man that hired him?” Luc asked the lieutenant.
    “He said he didn’t know it, sir. As to thumbs . . .” He glanced at the earl. “Mundy said that the man lacked a thumb on his left hand.”
    “Thank you, Park,” Tony said. “That will be all.”
    “Aye, Captain.” The officer left.
    Tony scowled, this time with no pleasure. “Blast it, Luc, I don’t like a thief going freely about my ship.”
    “Hold him in the bilge if you wish. I will speak with him during our return.” And learn what could be learned of the lad’s attempt at thievery. If her instincts were to be believed—her ability to read men, as she said—Mundy was not a thief by inclination but by desperation. But the poison was worrisome.
    Luc went to the door. “I will see you in port, gentlemen.”
    “All plans to make a sojourn to that lovely