Drew’s vision blurred. It did hurt. Like a serrated blade to the belly.
“For the love of God. I’m not a trollop!” insisted MissPenny.
“Should be. You’re devilish pretty.” Rafe plucked the red rose from his lapel. “I’ll tell you what, turtledove, if I arrive back in London in one piece after this mission, I might just marry you.” He tucked the rose behind her ear.
Drew’s vision went as red as the rose.
“What mission?” asked MissPenny, flinging the rose to the floor. “Where are you going?”
Drew grabbed Rafe by the collar and shook him until his teeth rattled together. “You’re not going anywhere, do you hear me? I’ll hold your head under the pump and sober you up and then you’ll finally answer my questions. And you’ll stop insulting MissPenny.”
“I have something that works wonderfully to sober a man.” MissPenny searched her cloak pockets and came up with a small vial. “This should be effective. It’s my own blend of smelling salts.”
She uncorked the vial. Drew forced Rafe’s head close to the vial.
“Damn.” Rafe shook his head. “That burns the nostrils.”
“Tell me, is someone after you? The Manor Boys? The Newgate Six?” asked MissPenny.
Rafe peered at her groggily. “How do you know about those organizations? And no one’s after me. I’m after someone. A much bigger prize.”
“I know these things because I’m Sir Malcolm Penny’s niece. I’m also his secretary. And I’m an excellent shot. There’s a pistol in my reticule. Wherever you’re going, you’d best bring me with you.”
“’Fraid not, poppet. I never mix business and pleasure,” said Rafe.
“I’m going to punch you soon,” Drew warned his brother. He’d lost the thread of the conversation a while back and felt dreadfully unbalanced.
All he knew was that MissPenny had proposed to Rafe.
He was having trouble moving past that hideously awful occurrence.
“Which target are you after?” MissPenny asked. “Tell me.”
“I’m setting a trap to catch the biggest prize of all. This is my chance to redeem myself, so kindly allow a man to gather a few things and then I’ll be off to vanquish a bloodthirsty foe.”
“Rafe, you can’t leave, this is idiocy—we’ll pursue this, whatever it is, together,” said Drew. “Let me help you.”
“Brothers side by side, is that it? I don’t think so. We’re past that possibility. And the target isn’t in London. He’s in...” He closed his mouth.
“France?” asked MissPenny. “Is it a certain antiquities thief?” She was thinking of Le Triton. If Rafe had a plan to capture him, she must find a way to join him for the mission.
Rafe’s face turned a paler shade of green and he peered at MissPenny. “What did you say your name was?”
“MissWilhelmina Penny.”
“What do you know about antiquities thieves, MissPenny?”
“Even more than you do, I’ll wager.”
Drew had had just about enough of this enigmatic, nonsensical conversation. There was obviously something that he was missing. MissPenny and his brother appeared to share a common language and it was irritating him to no end. “Rafe, tell me right now, is Beatrice in danger of being kidnapped?”
“Who wrote the letter, Lord Rafe?” MissPenny asked. “I didn’t recognize the handwriting.” She dipped her fingers into her bodice. Drew couldn’t help watching as she wriggled until her bodice loosened, giving her access to the shadow between the luscious mounds of her breasts.
The last thing Drew saw was MissPenny drawing a small scroll of paper from between her breasts.
And then everything went dark.
It happened so quickly that Mina didn’t have time to stop Lord Rafe. He seized a candlestick from the desk and hit the duke on the back of the head. The duke staggered, and then crashed to the floor with a thunderous thud.