The Duke's Men [1] What the Duke Desires by Sabrina Jeffries Read Free Book Online

money, I daresay, for introducing
     this impostor to me.”
    “Now, see here,” she protested. “If he had such nefarious motives, then why didn’t
     he show up for your assignation?”
    The question was a valid one. “Perhaps after he considered the matter, he feared I
     would bring the authorities. Or perhaps he got cold feet. Or . . .” He scowled at
     her. “I don’t know. But I could ask you the same thing—if this is not a nefarious endeavor, why didn’t he show up?”
    “Obviously he was prevented by something or . . . or someone.”
    The way she said “someone” gave him pause. “Like who?”
    “I-I don’t know. An enemy of some kind. He did mention being afraid that the note
     would fall into the wrong hands.” She frowned. “Though it is odd. I mean, if Tristan
     really had found your brother and wantedto reunite the two of you, he should have just brought Peter to see you. That would
     be simplest.”
    The fact that she would point out something that cast even more suspicion on her brother’s
     actions made him feel better about trusting her with the story. She truly didn’t seem
     to know why Bonnaud had approached him.
    He fixed her with a dark glance. “He didn’t bring the impostor to me because he wanted
     me to come to him. That’s how sharpers work. The swindler lures the target of his
     fraud away from his friends, to get him alone and confused. It makes the target easier
     prey.”
    “My brother is not a sharper!” she protested. When he lifted an eyebrow at her, she said stoutly, “He
     isn’t.”
    “Are you sure?”
    Two spots of color appeared in her pretty cheeks. “Yes,” she said, though she dropped
     her gaze to the desk, where she was worrying the note with her hands. “I’ll admit
     he can be wild sometimes and he gets into trouble occasionally, but he’s a good man.
     He’d never prey on someone’s grief.”
    She’d gone right to the heart of Maximilian’s anger. “Then he’d be the first to have
     such scruples,” he said bitterly. He paced the room, fighting his churning emotions.
     “Do you know how many men have approached me and my family in the years since my brother
     was kidnapped? How many have claimed to know Peter? To be Peter?”
    And how many his parents had momentarily been swayed by, desperate to have their son
     back. The sonthat mattered. The son that hung golden in their memory.
    “There’s a great deal of money and property at stake,” he said coldly, “and everyone
     realizes that.”
    “Yes, I imagine finding him alive would change your life considerably.”
    Her matter-of-fact tone and searching gaze roused his ire. “What are you implying?
     That I want to find him for some other reason than just having my brother back?”
    “Do you?”
    Anger roiled in his gut. “You think I want to hunt him down and murder him, so I can
     hold on to the dukedom.”
    She had the good grace to color. “I didn’t mean—”
    “Of course you did.” A harsh laugh escaped him. As if he would actually want to keep the legacy that his family had handed down to him. “But unlike you, who have
     a plethora of brothers, I had only the one, and I would give anything to have him
     back.”
    Indeed, he would gladly give up the confounded title to Peter, if only to avoid feeling
     obligated to marry and risk passing on the madness that seemed endemic to his line.
    “Besides,” he went on, “if I did wish to eliminate my brother, wouldn’t it be foolish to come here and reveal that
     I’m searching for him? It would make more sense to refuse to tell you who Peter is
     to me. Was to me.”
    He glared at her. “But I abhor such deceit. Which is why I do not like being made
     a fool of by swindlersand impostors. I’m an easy target, since anyone who has heard the tale knows I would
     never recognize Peter. I was only three when my . . . when someone absconded with him.”
    He wasn’t about to reveal the truth of who that someone was. And