have to read that trash, Valerian. Lord knows no one would realize the difference if you simply pretended.”
“You’re wrong, brother mine. I pick up a great deal of invaluable information from those terrifying love stories. I’ve learned more about the convolutions of the female mind than I ever thought possible.”
“Such diligence in the pursuit of your role is admirable,” Phelan murmured.
Valerian smiled wickedly, a very smug, masculine smile. “Don’t fool yourself, brother. I intend to apply my newfound knowledge in far more profitable areas.”
“Oh, God,” Phelan muttered. “Not the bluestocking?”
“But such a lovely bluestocking,” Valerian said, patting his silken blond hair. “And I can tell she is quite fascinated with me.”
“Val …” Phelan warned. “We’re playing a dangerous game. You know as well as I do the Bow Street runners are after you, and there’s a limit to what I can do to protect you. Don’t endanger yourself for the sake of a passing fancy. Let us leave.”
Val’s smile was rueful. “That’s the trouble, Phelan. I’m not certain that it is. A simple fancy. Or the slightest bit passing.”
Phelan’s expression was nothing short of grim. “You’ve spent your entire twenty-five years falling in love with every presentable female in sight. You can’t choose animpossible time like this to finally conceive an eternal passion.”
“I don’t think one can be logical about these things, old man,” Valerian said. “Trust me, I’m fighting it. Manfully, I might add.” He kicked at his yellow-flowered skirts, then glanced up at his older brother. “I suggest you do the same. Young Julian has already needlessly complicated our lives. Don’t make things worse by bedding her.”
“She’s pretending to be a boy, Valerian. I’m hardly likely to convince her I share Pinworth’s oddities.”
“You could always persuade her to give up her masquerade.”
“I’m not ruled by my appetites. Your safety and clearing our name come ahead of any stray attraction I might feel. If we find out who really killed Lord Harry, well and good. He and I always despised each other, and he probably deserved his fate. I just don’t wish to see you pay the price for someone else’s crime. As for the girl, we’ve already discussed the fact that she’s not my type. I like buxom, feminine blondes.”
“After all,” said Val with a pronounced simper, “you married one.”
A quiet knock on the door stopped Phelan just as he was about to give his brother a less-than-gentle punch on his shoulder. Hannigan opened the door without waiting, and his expression as he gazed on Valerian was, as usual, doleful and amused. “I thought you might like to know, your lordship, that the girl’s awake.”
“Did you tell Hannigan about her gender, or did he guess?” Val wrested himself from Phelan’s bruising grip.
“Hannigan knows everything,” Phelan said.
“Except how to get out of this current tangle, my lord,” Hannigan said heavily.
“I thought he was going to stop with the ‘my lords’ and ‘your lordships,’” Val said. “It wouldn’t do for anyone to overhear plain Mr. Ramsey being addressed so grandly.”
“Jealous, brat?” Phelan inquired coolly. “I’d gladly give you the blasted title if I could.”
“Go to hell,” Valerian shot back, deeply offended.
“Hannigan has a head on his shoulders, which is more than I can say for you most of the time,” Phelan continued. “He knows when he needs to be discreet. Where’s the girl right now, Hannigan?”
“In the kitchen with Dulcie, eating enough to feed an army. Can’t imagine that Bessie Mowbray would let the girl starve.”
“I imagine her hunger goes back further than the few days she’s been in Hampton Regis,” Phelan said absently. He turned back to look at his unrepentant brother. “Are you certain it’s a wise idea to pursue your bluestocking, Val? She’s not a fool. I suspect if it
Learning to Kill: Stories