Page 6 of Project Duke

He glared at her with the ferocity of a thousand suns. The other officers had all stopped and were openly staring now. The tall one let out a few stifled snickers.

“Lady Calliope,” said Kelford, his voice low and intoxicating, “you should not be lecturing me about my reputation when your own is in grave danger. Why does neither of your brothers come and inquire after this information? Perhaps you should take your own advice and read a little more about a proper lady’s behavior.”

Despite herself, heat blasted across Calliope’s cheeks. A familiar sensation of fiery humiliation licked through her.

Whore, William’s voice rang in her head. Another man was about to humiliate her, make her feel small and worthless, make her feel dirty.

But she’d be damned if this would be all it took to have her back down from finding her brother. Spencer’s life was on the line.

“Kelford,” she said, pushing down her embarrassment, “just look up that date. September 3, 1812.”

“No.” He crossed his arms over his mighty chest. “There’s no reason for it. Your brother, who was duke then, couldn’t have been press-ganged.”

Anger rolled through her body like thunder. This was hopeless.

“This is not over,” she said, throwing as deadly a glare as she could muster at Kelford. “Good day.”

With that, she turned around and walked out of the office, Kelford’s gaze burning holes in the back of her spencer. She took her pocket watch from her reticule. Another unladylike thing—having a pocket watch. She found it much more convenient than pendant watches ladies wore.

It was almost four in the afternoon. The Admiralty would close in about one hour. If Kelford wouldn’t help her, she’d do it herself. After all, that would be the kind of investigative work she’d need to do for her clients once she’d opened her business.

She walked out of the Admiralty and got into the carriage she had hired to bring her here. She watched for an hour as officers left the building one by one or in groups. Finally, when a large group was leaving close to five o’clock, she got out of the carriage and, as nonchalantly as she could, walked back in. The two officers on guard didn’t stop her.

Her low heels clacked against the smooth marble tiles as she climbed the great stairs up to the first floor. She saw a gentleman leave a room next to the Conscription Office and walk away in the opposite direction from her. Before the door closed, she rushed forward and stopped it, then sneaked in.

The room was blessedly empty. Through a slit between the planks of the wall, she watched the officers leave the Conscription Office, and then Kelford’s tall figure. With an effortless, graceful masculine swagger, he walked away.

For a moment, she forgot her anger as she watched his broad back—no doubt, mountains of muscle rolled under that dark navy fabric, and she remembered the feel of his hard arms under her palms as they danced.

This is not the time to turn into a swooning debutante!

“Stubborn, arrogant man,” she muttered.

He turned his head a little, and she felt her heart jump, afraid he’d heard her. But he couldn’t have.

When he resumed walking, she sighed out a long breath of relief. After another five minutes, no one was coming or going from any offices on this floor, and Calliope opened the door as quietly as she could.

Stepping softly, she went to the Conscription Office. She cracked the door open and peered inside.

No one.

She slipped inside and looked around. There was Kelford’s desk with stacks of ledgers, papers, and maps. She approached the desk and opened the first ledger. Letters…names…addresses…for last month. His handwriting was masculine. Precise. Beautiful. So much more readable than her own. She admired the small, pretty, ornamental tails of his letters g and j.

She flipped through the ledger. More names and addresses, but all were for this month and last month. And there were no ship names whatsoever. She sighed in frustration, picked up the heavy ledger, and put it aside.

A distant echoing knock of something against stone made her freeze and listen, her back growing damp with sweat.

Seconds ticked by, but no more sounds came. After a couple of minutes, she put down the second ledger and opened the third one. February…better, but still not right…

“What the devil are you doing here?” said a now-familiar, brandy-smooth voice, and when she looked up, the Duke of Kelford stood in the door frame, blocking any hope of escape.

3

The infuriating female was gaping at Nathaniel from behind his desk, one of his ledgers open in front of her. Her beautiful eyes were wide, her delicious, plush lips parted. And a rosy blush crept over her high cheekbones, the same blush that he remembered from the night of the Royal Navy ball. When they had danced that waltz and she was all breathless in his arms.

He had been breathless, too, afraid to spook that creature of lush auburn hair and big, intelligent blue eyes.

Her fingers still lay on the pages of the ledger. “I—” she said. “I—”