Much Ado About Rogues Read Online Free PDF

farm wagon entered the next village, only to ride away in the southbound Royal Mail coach, her traveling trunk on the roof, a large cloth bag beside her. He had to pay for an extra seat again, which is why he was remembered. He’s for London, Jack. He’s in London.”
    “May as well be on the far side of the moon, for all we’ll be able to ferret him out in town. He could be anywhere. Anybody.” Dickie raised his wineglass. “And clearly up to mischief. Liverpool isn’t going to like it when we tell him we’ve lost him.”
    “We haven’t lost him,” Jack corrected. “We simply haven’t found him yet. We already knew a man like Sinjon wouldn’t make our job easy for us. Tess says she knows nothing. And, from the way he sneaked out of the manor piece by piece, I tend to believe her.”
    Will got to his feet, the dagger having already disappeared into his boot. “All right then, we’re for London. I wasn’t much enamored with the idea of passing the night in this benighted spot, not with the delights of the Season and a dozen invitations awaiting us in Mayfair. Except for you, Jack. A thousand apologies.”
    “All of which are accepted,” Jack said, also getting to his feet. “Bastards aren’t often invited into Society. I won’t be riding with you, however. We’ll meet in Half Moon Street in two days’ time. Watch for the usual signal that shows I’m in residence.”
    “Some people just have the knocker put back on the door, you know,” Dickie pointed out. “All this business about opening drapes, closing drapes. A man could get confused.”
    “He don’t advertise his whereabouts the way you do, not our Black Jack,” Will said, giving the pudgy Dickie a slight shove in the direction of the hallway. “You’re going to take another run at the daughter, Jack? Going to bed her for the good of the Crown, or just for the bleeding hell of it? Either way, good on you.”
    “Sorry, Jack,” Dickie apologized for Will. “He’s pretty enough, but more than his table manners are execrable. Come on, Will, before Jack bloodies that too-inquisitive nose of yours.”
    Jack had already discounted both of Will’s sly comments. He’d learned to ignore a lot of things over the course of his eight and twenty years, or he would have been forced to spend half of that life just knocking people down. As it was, by the time he’d reached his majority he’d gotten himself into trouble often enough to eventually bring him to the attention of the Marquis de Fontaine, who’d shown him an alternative outlet for both his quick mind and his aggressive nature…which had probably saved Jack’s life.
    “I don’t have to tell you to begin at the Bull and Mouth. Sinjon’s major problem is his lack of funds, which meant he had to bring his tools with him, not purchase them at his destination. Adding to his problems, his other weakness is physical, not mental. Someone at the Bull and Mouth helped him with that trunk—he clearly couldn’t move it across London on his own. He’s left us a trail, gentlemen, one I’m sure he’s already eradicated, employing the same piecemeal tactics in London to shift his belongings sans trunk. He’s well and truly gone to ground by now. But start with the trunk. Find that, and we’re back in the hunt.”
    “Fair enough, Jack. And if we find him while you’re still playing about with the dau—” Will quickly corrected himself “—while you’re still searching for clues here? Do we approach, or wait for you? I rather fancy having the man sitting in your drawing room with a lovely big bow tied around his neck when you arrive. Lady Sefton’s ball is this Friday, you know, and with one thing and another, I’ve damned well missed half the parties already. Liverpool and his missing marquis be damned, I say. We’d been promised some respite after our last brilliant success.”
    Jack was used to Will’s grumbles, knowing the man loved a fight more than anything. It was the hunt that