The Duchess War (The Brothers Sinister)

The Duchess War (The Brothers Sinister) by Courtney Milan Page A

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Authors: Courtney Milan
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a frosty look. “Clearly you hold yourself to low standards. Whatever your faults may be, I do not jab prematurely.”
    He choked on a sputtering, outraged laugh and looked about. But there was no longer anyone around to hear that little remark.
    She folded up the sample handbill that she’d brought with her, now marked up with the Commission’s notes, and put it in her skirt pocket. “I surely don’t parade my strategy before my enemies. That would be idiotic.”
    “What you mean is that you’ve not yet discovered any kind of proof.”
    She gave him a level look and a shake of her head. “What I mean is that I’m not so foolishly prideful that I’ll disclose everything I’ve learned just because of a little inept needling on your part.”
    “Ouch,” he said ruefully. “You accuse me first of jabbing prematurely, and then of inept needling. Take pity on a man’s pride.”
    She smiled a little at that and leaned over and patted his hand.
    “I’m sorry,” she said sweetly. “I had no notion that you would be so susceptible to the wilting of your…pride.” Said in a low, certain tone, that much innuendo sent a flash of heat through him. Wilting was the opposite of what he was doing. She hefted the satchel on her shoulder and headed for the door. She’d taken two steps before she turned around and gave him a low smile, one that seemed to stab straight through his gut. “I’m sure your prick is as massive as your head is thick.”
    There was no way he was going to let her walk out on that condescending, sexually-charged note, leaving him stewing in lust.
    He took three steps after her, setting his hand on her sleeve. “Wait.”
    But she didn’t, and so he found himself following after her, keeping silent as they made their way through the hostelry out onto the street. When they came out into the daylight, when they’d walked far enough that nobody was close enough to hear them, Robert spoke again.
    “What I meant to say was—I know you’ve discovered nothing. Under the guise of obtaining bids for that little handbill of yours, you’ve been to every printer in town, looking for evidence that they’re working with me. And you haven’t found a thing.”
    She paused at that, her head cocking, and turned to him. “You’ve been watching me,” she finally said.
    “Not as such. That would be rather sordid, having you followed about. But I have asked a few business acquaintances to let me know what you ask about.” He smiled at her. “As I didn’t precisely expect you to give me progress reports.”
    She shrugged. “It would be sordid if you had a lover followed about in a fit of jealous suspicion. But we’re enemies, recall. Keeping me under watch is merely prudent. I applaud it.”
    She started walking away again. Robert stared after her in bemusement.
    He tried to be honest with himself. He had to be, as so few others were. His friend, Sebastian, could charm the bloomers off even the most upright dragons of the ton —and had, on occasion. His brother had a razor-sharp wit on the one hand, and a way of making others comfortable on the other. Oliver could make ladies laugh.
    For himself… He could rarely think of how to respond when immersed in that heady back-and-forth. Sometimes he thought of clever things to say…hours later. Usually, he committed the worst sin possible: He said what he was really thinking. That was why he came out with gems like, I like your tits. Not one of his finest moments, that.
    “No,” he said, with a shake of his head, falling in step beside her. “Why do we have to be enemies? We could be…allies.”
    She squinted at him suspiciously. “Why? Because you need more half-blind near-spinsters on your side?”
    He winced.
    Her lips twitched. “Never mind. I saw you at the Finneys’. Clearly, you do.”
    He ignored this. “Because when you set out to prove that I was the author of the handbills, you first made a list of every printer in town, and then

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