Page 83 of The Duke's Only Desire

“With all due respect, Mrs. Alton, the child has been given up to a foundling hospital,” Connor countered. “I would say that something terrible has already happened to them.”

“Yes. You’re right.” She picked up the sheet of paper and scanned it. “You said the child has been placed with a wet nurse. Where does she reside?”

Connor shook his head and leaned back in his chair. “I wasn’t able to acquire that information. My contact within the hospital doesn’t have access to those records, and I haven’t yet been able to establish a relationship with anyone who does. Of course, I can keep working to attempt to gather that information.” Heleveled a no-nonsense look on Shay, his face hard as stone. “But I would think a duke would have better luck convincing the hospital to give him that information directly, don’t you think,Mr. Alton?”

Shay tensed at being discovered, yet he didn’t move a muscle, keeping his face carefully inscrutable. But in her surprise, Sophie turned her head to send Shay a bewildered glance, unwittingly confirming Connor’s accusation.

“How did you find out?” Shay asked, keeping his voice as even as if they were discussing nothing more important than the weather.

“Investigating is my livelihood, and I have to be very good at it in order to survive. Sometimes that means investigating my own clients if I suspect they’re hiding secrets from me, and you, Your Grace, seem to be hiding a great deal.” His sharp gaze never moved from Shay’s. “Such as…why you’re hunting for this child and her mother. Why would a duke care about a foundling?”

The insinuation was clear. “She is my niece,” Shay confided to dispel any thoughts that he was the girl’s father. “She belongs to my late brother John.”

The investigator’s expression never changed. If he’d learned Shay’s true identity, then of course he’d learned why the Duke of Malvern so rarely came to London and why he was so hideously scarred. Reports of John’s death had been in all the papers for weeks following the fire. It was only a short step from learning about that to realizing who the initials JD belonged to. Not even a jump. More like a simple lean.

“The situation surrounding the girl and her mother is complicated,” Shay explained, once more putting his hand over Sophie’s, this time to encourage her to remain silent. “We only recently learned of the child’s existence. We want to speak with the mother and see the girl with our own eyes, and we needed your help in finding her.”

Shay left it at that. He hoped Connor would assume that Cora White had been the one to reach out to the family, most likely to ask for money, and that he and Sophie were in London to find out if the child even existed before handing over any blunt. Secrets…most aristocratic families had at least one illegitimate child tucked away somewhere in the countryside or in an orphanage, yet none of them would ever acknowledge that those byblows existed, let alone allow themselves to be blackmailed over them.

But there was one more twist…

“And now I expect you to give us the location of the wet nurse and child,” Shay ordered in a low, cold voice. It was the same one he used with adversaries so they would know exactly with whom they were dealing.

Connor said nothing for a moment, only returning Shay’s stare.

Sophie placed a hand on Shay’s bicep and reminded him gently, “He said he didn’t have it.”

“He’s lying. Aren’t you, Connor?” Shay let an amused smile curl at the corner of his mouth. “Anyone who could discover my true identity and what happened to my brother could also have easily gotten the whereabouts of a child and her nurse. Surely, your contacts at the hospital run that deep. Or should I say, that shallow. The name and location of a wet nurse wouldn’t be a deeply held secret, regardless of hospital policy.” He nodded toward the papers on the desk. “Now that you’ve confirmed who I am and can trust what I’ve told you, give us the nurse’s name and location, please.”

With narrowed eyes, Connor pulled another sheet from the stack of papers and slid it across the desktop. “Mrs. John Sneed. She lives with her family in a small cottage in Dulwich, near the Common and Lordship lane.” He reached into his desk drawer,withdrew a small object, and placed it on the paper. “You’ll also want this to help you identify Mrs. Cole.”

Shay picked it up. An old cravat pin whose gold plate had worn off—or been scratched away to be sold as flake—and missing the small, blood-red ruby that would have been attached to its tip. But the initials were still clear…JD.Shay turned it over in his hand to study it for a moment, then handed it to Sophie for safekeeping.

“I believe we’re done.” Connor stood and nodded toward the door. Then he smiled at Sophie, but the expression certainly wasn’t genuine. “I wish you luck on finding your niece.”

“Thank you, Mr. Connor.” Sophie’s reply was just as disingenuous.

“I insist you keep our confidence.” Shay lowered his voice. “You investigated me, so you know my background. You know what I’m capable of doing.”

Connor gave a slow nod at the understated threat. “If I violate your confidence, Your Grace, I would expect no less.”

Without another word, Shay rose to his feet and slipped the two sheets of paper into his inside breast pocket. Then he took Sophie’s hand to help her from her chair and led her from the office toward the waiting carriage on the dark, slush-covered street. Around them, London had finished working for the day, and most of its inhabitants had already gone home, shutting themselves up against the cold night and leaving the city hushed and still. Which made Chase Maddox’s large frame standing by the hackney even more unusual.

Shay couldn’t help a stab of jealousy at the sight of his old friend. Chase would be going off in the carriage with Sophie to safely escort her home, when she should have been spending the rest of the night with him.

“We’ll look for Cora White in the morning,” Shay told her as he stopped Sophie on the footpath, far enough away thatthe jarvey couldn’t overhear. “I’ll send a carriage for you at ten o’clock.”

She grimaced with a glance past his shoulder at Chase. “You’ll send Greysmere, too, won’t you?”

Not a question. “You need someone to watch over you.”

“At ten in the morning?”

He paused before confiding, “Malcolm’s in London. He’ll be watching you, and I don’t want you to be alone.”

“I wouldn’t be alone if I spent the night with you.”

Shay nearly groaned at the temptation. A night holding her in his arms, making love to her, talking and laughing quietly together until dawn, as if nothing were wrong in their world—it was a luxury they couldn’t afford.

“The George is no place for a lady,” he told her quietly, gently caressing her arm and wishing he could give her a proper embrace. One that would have her sagging bonelessly against him even as she fiercely returned his kiss. “And you should enjoy this time with your father. If our plan works, we’ll be leaving London in only a few days.”

“I hope so,” she whispered.

“I know so.”

Then he lowered his head and brought his mouth to hers, allowing himself this small goodnight kiss.

He stepped away to put several feet of cold night air between them and backed down the street, keeping his gaze on her until he reached Chase. He patted his old friend on the back, then forced himself to turn and walk away.