Dukes Prefer Blondes by Loretta Chase Read Free Book Online

rituals—­”
    â€œMy lady, as my colleague has indicated, the chances of finding this boy are truly not at all good, especially in our present harassed circumstances,” Westcott said.
    Radford looked at him. Westcott made the small, quick gesture of cutting his throat, meaning don’t . Now he signaled? Just when the conversation finally took an educational and entertaining turn?
    â€œEven if our docket were not full,” the solicitor went on, “we should not advise attempting it. In our experience—­”
    â€œ However ,” Radford cut in before his fool friend could launch into the gory particulars, “in the event your efforts, with or without a detective, prove futile, you’re welcome to return to us. When the boy is arrested, that is. Then we might be of real use.”
    The odds were strongly against Toby Coppy’s staying alive long enough to get arrested, but she seemed to have some noble notion of Saving Him, and Radford recognized fatal obstinacy when he saw it.
    She studied him for a time, in the way she’d done before.
    Nothing in the searching blue gaze told him she remembered him from that long-­ago time.
    And why, pray, should she? A lifetime had passed since then. They’d spent together perhaps an hour in total. She’d been a child and he’d been merely one of her brother’s many schoolmates. She’d seen him only the once. Radfords were common enough in England—­or had been. Very likely, she hadn’t even known his name. Longmore never called him anything but “Professor.” Except for that hour, Radford and she had lived worlds apart. Even when she was in London with the rest of Fashionable Society, she might as well live on the moon.
    Not to mention that even he, with his famous memory and exceptional powers of observation, wouldn’t have known her if he hadn’t had a glimpse of her tooth. The one she’d chipped trying to save him from his idiot cousin.
    She said, “Thank you, Mr. Radford, I’ll bear that offer in mind as well.”
    â€œWe do greatly regret that we can’t offer your ladyship more help,” Westcott said.
    Of course he regretted. He couldn’t get enough of gawking at her.
    She gave a little wave. “I quite understand. My foolish mistake.” She started for the door, and Westcott hurried to open it. She paused there and smiled, and a ray of light seemed to brighten the somber room. “Well, then, no injuries, gentlemen?” she said. “No swooning? No tears? Excellent. Good day, Mr. Westcott.”
    â€œGood day, my lady.”
    â€œGood day . . . Professor,” she said. She gave a little laugh, and left.
    P rofessor?
    â€œProfessor?” Westcott said .
    Radford was staring at the closed door.
    He started toward it, then stopped.
    â€œWhat did she mean?” Westcott said. “About the injuries and swooning? That sounded like you.”
    â€œIt was me.” Radford brought his attention back—­from Vauxhall and wherever else it had wandered to—­to his friend. “The other day in Charing Cross, when Freame tried to run me down, the lady stepped in the way. Even he could see she was quality. Murdering annoying barristers is one thing, but an aristocratic female is an altogether different article. He swerved away, no doubt cursing vehemently, and plotting future violence.”
    Radford had been instrumental in sending six of Freame’s favorite minions to permanent residence in penal colonies and two to eternity.
    â€œFreame tried to kill you again ?” Westcott said. “And you did not see fit to mention it to me? Attempted murder ?”
    â€œGood luck proving he aimed for me.” Radford faced a more difficult problem of proof in the Grumley case, one the defense was taking full advantage of, with the lackwit judge’s eager assistance.
    â€œYou did not see fit to mention the lady,