Page 70 of Misadventures with a Duke

The North Greene. A boardinghouse thingie of the twenty-first century, not a roadside inn somewhere in eighteenth-century France.

Yes. I’m here. I’m me, altogether now.

So why does that make me so sad? Even forlorn? So much so, I can’t even choke out a reply to my friend’s new hail.

“Raegan Karlinne Tavish! For the love of fuck, where are you?”

She strides down the hall with enough force to sound like two people. Maybe three.

“They’ve got to be here somewhere. Her phone and a lot of uneaten dumplings are still in the room. But if one of Logan’s minions picked them up, I’d have been her first phone call.”

“Unless they’re still getting booked?”

The reply, so clear because it’s issued from this side of the hallway, elucidates the pitter-patter-for-two that I just heard.

At once, I rush to my feet.

“Allie?”

“Aha! Wonderful supposition, mon miracle, but they are certainly not getting books. Unless these rooms have books in their amenities?”

The third voice in the hall has my poor Desperado jostled worse than me. He pops up like a GI Joe figure that’s been plucked by an eager kid. Apt comparison because he’s gawking with as much glee as that kid.

But his joy is only half that of his brother’s.

“Mon dieu,” Max blurts from the second he leads the way into the room. His hair, a few shades lighter than his brother’s, is damp and disheveled. His eyes, also lighter than Bastien’s, are glowing as brilliant as gold. “Bast! It is really you!”

I smirk, filled with a flood of girlish pride that flows as Bastien dips half of an unassuming bow. An equally adorable grin yanks up one corner of his mouth. “It is very good to see you again, brother.”

“Good?” Max counters. “It is a fucking miracle!”

“Well, that’s almost taking the words right out of my mouth.” I drawl it in the moments before hauling Allie into a hug. “How did you get back here so fast? Did you guys spend all of fifteen minutes in Italy?”

“Hmmm, maybe sixteen.” Her concession comes with an it’s-all-good glance, as if she already hears my inward fret about her forced interruption to an essential work trip. “We weren’t even unpacked. We were going to do that after enjoying a drink at the hotel. Fortunately, their lobby bar had several English language news feeds turned on—and we caught a very familiar face on one of them.”

Drue takes that occasion to saunter deeper into the room. “You hear that, Duke of Daring? You made the international feeds!”

I wallop her with an exasperated huff. “And that’s a reason for celebrating why?”

“Because it got us back here,” Max announces, lurching to thread his way between the tables. “Back here, to where you actually are.” He doesn’t hesitate about yanking Bastien into a hug that takes bromance to seriously fresh levels. “My brother. My beautiful brother. It is you—with your whole head on your shoulders, at that!”

Bastien’s smirk isn’t so pronounced now. “Where else is it supposed to be?”

Chapter Fourteen

Bastien

I intended the question in jest. Mostly.

Maximillian has hauled me away, beneath the awning that covers the boardinghouse’s back patio, to issue his answer. All too swiftly, I have learned why.

His answer is nowhere near a laughing matter.

“A revolution.”

I shake my head while reiterating my brother’s terminology—and extending some silent gratitude for the cold air that gusts up the alley. Fortunately, the rain has abated for now. But if Maximillian has more stunning truths to impart, I might be wishing for another downpour as well.

“For eleven years?”