A Notorious Love by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online Page B

clients was a duke, and Mr. Brennan spoke to him like an equal? His investment advice must be valuable indeed.
    “Don’t worry,” the duke was saying, “I’ll consider it carefully. I’ve seen what your counsel has brought Dryden and Blackmore, and I don’t intend to lose my chanceat it. I’ll be sure to make my decision before you return from your trip.”
    Trip? All her interest in the duke vanished. She searched Mr. Brennan’s face. Then his gaze met hers, and she knew. He hadn’t found Juliet or Mr. Morgan in London.
    The two men continued to talk, but she just sat there numb, wishing she could shove the loquacious duke out the door. Now what? Did Mr. Brennan intend to go after them? But why would he do so after grumbling about her request for his assistance?
    She was so distracted, she didn’t notice the surreptitious glances the duke was paying her until he said, “I’d best depart now. I would not wish to keep you from your other visitor.”
    Startled, she glanced up to find him eyeing her with interest. No doubt he thought her one of Mr. Brennan’s fancy women. The very idea made her blush.
    Thankfully, Mr. Brennan had the good sense not to introduce her and hurried the man out. By the time he returned to her side, she’d already pushed herself to a stand.
    “Sorry to keep you waiting, m’lady.” He offered her his arm. “Shall we go back to my office?”
    “Certainly.” She took it, though holding on to him seemed incredibly intimate. But when his gloved hand covered hers, alarm bells of a different sort jangled in her head. He was being very kind and courteous. Had he discovered something he knew would alarm her? Cold fear turned even her good leg to lead.
    “Have you been waiting long?” he asked as they made their slow way across the foyer to a hallway.
    Her worry made her curt. “Yes—a whole day, if you’ll recall. But I could not expect you to put aside a duke to attend to a mere annoyance like my sister’s—”

    He cleared his throat, and she looked up to see him glance meaningfully at the clerk. Merciful heavens, she must be more discreet. And less tart-tongued.
    Honey, she reminded herself. I must scent my words with honey.
    Glancing around, she forced a smile to her lips. “Your place of business is very pleasant. Very tastefully furnished.”
    “I claim no credit for that. Mrs. Knighton did it all.”
    “Rosalind did this?” Rosalind was many things, but tasteful wasn’t one of them.
    “Christ, no!” he exclaimed, then seemed to remember to whom he was speaking. “I meant Mrs. Leonard Knighton. Griff’s mother.”
    “Oh, of course.” That made more sense. Rosalind would have draped the walls in violet silk and gold tassels or something equally…provoking.
    “Speaking of Griff’s mother,” he said, “is she still at Swan Park with your father?”
    “Yes. I was thankful she could stay there with him while I came to London.”
    He made no answer. Having run out of innocuous conversation, they both kept silent until they reached the end of the dark hallway.
    He led her into a cramped office piled high with newspapers and books. As he closed the door, she glanced around. This looked more like what she’d expect. Assorted documents littered his desk: snippings from newspapers, letters, and what were probably invoices and bills of lading. All were marked in ink—portions circled, notations scribbled in the margins. An odd device resembling beads on a loom lay atop one pile.
    He caught her staring at it. “It’s an abacus,” he explained. “One of Griff’s trader friends taught me how touse it for calculations.” When she nodded absently, he added, “But you didn’t come here to learn about the tools of a trader. Sit down, if you please. We have much to discuss.”
    Her pulse stuttered. “Why? Where are they? Have you found them?”
    With a sigh, he circled to stand behind the desk. “No. They’re not in London.”
    Though the news came as no surprise, it