“Perhaps a lady of thetonwishes a proposal from your lips,” Thompson said as he jovially slapped their adoptive father on the back. All present knew Mrs. Dove-Lyon was known to serve as a matchmaker for women of society.
Mrs. Dove-Lyon did not react to Thompson’s jest; however, Duncan predictably remarked, “Not likely. I have known my one greatlove.” Even so, Duncan nodded to each of them and excused them for the evening. “Claim your coaches. I will be close behind.”
Orson and Marksman walked off together, while Thompson agreed to ride with Graham and leave his coach behind for Duncan.
Navan instructed, “Come, Hartley, I will see you home safely.”
They were still talking over each other as they exited the Lyon’s Den together, bidding the Den’s manager Titan a good night.
Thompson laughingly called as they crossed the open area before the gaming hell, “Would it not be something if some woman wanted an arranged marriage with Duncan?”
“Soften all his hard lines,” Graham suggested.
Navan remembered the first time he laid eyes on Lady Elsbeth Duncan. A Scot to her roots. For longer than he cared to admit, he had despised her, for she was not his own mother. As the Duncans’ third son, he was expected to adore the woman as did both Richard Orson and Aaran Graham, but Navan did not, for the memory of his own mother’s sacrifice to save him seemed important to keep locked away in his heart. Orson’s mother had essentially neglected him, while Graham’s had not only abandoned him, but maimed him. They were easily replaced, but Navan’s mother had been perfect in every manner, and he could not so readily accept the loving attention that Lady Elsbeth Duncan offered. It took him more than a year under the Duncan roof and more than a few encouragements from Orson and Graham to realize Lady Elsbeth and Duncan had never once attempted to replace Navan’s parents or any of the parents of the children brought to live with them. They simply modeled what a family should be and permitted the five young men and their own daughter to view what the wordfamilymeant. Navan would be forever grateful to Macdonald Duncan in that manner.
The others had all broken into laughter at Graham’s suggestion, and Navan claimed his part of the jest by saying, “Would he discipline her as he did us?”
Nearly bent over in foolishness and drunken laughter as they crossed the open area, when they reached the step down where they would cross to their waiting carriages on the opposing side of Cleveland Row, a large boxy-looking man walked purposely through their loosely knit circle.
“What the devil!” Marksman growled as the man bumped the young earl’s shoulder.
As a group, they had turned to stare with derision at the man, who wore a long, dark wool coat that nearly reached his boots.Not dressed as a gentleman, Navan thought.Countrified to the roots of his hair. But Beaufort did not vocalize his opinion.
Thompson growled, “Who the hell does he think he is? A bloody duke or a prince?”
Incensed by his friends’ similar anger, Navan declared, “Needs his arse kicked, and I may be the man to do it.”
He started off after the rude man, but Thompson caught his arm. Though they all knew great umbrage, Thompson urged, “Just drunk. You know how a man deep in his cups attempts to walk straight. Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s man Titan will settle what is what.”
They all turned for another look at the stranger who dared to offend them. At that very moment, Duncan stepped from the club and raised his hand to catch their attention. “Wa…!”
Unbelievably, Duncan did not finish his command, for a gunshot rang out in the night’s stillness. A flock of ravens took to the air as the sound ricocheted within the spaces between the buildings along the street.
Though they were all cognizant that the strange man was running away, tossing aside his gloves and hat, for a handful of heartbeats, none of them moved. The tableau of watching Lord Macdonald Duncan collapse onto the bricks before the gaming hell held them stock-still.
Navan was the first to respond. “Hartley, with me!” he called as hedarted off after the shooter, around the left side of the building and in the direction of the garden and kitchen. Duncan’s assailant had proven he was not drunk as they first had expected, for the man was adept on his feet and was making his way to the back of the building before any of them had responded.
Dragging his gun from his inside pocket, as he chased the man, Navan’s mind kept reciting, “Duncan cannot die! Duncan cannot die! Not this way!”
When Navan reached the back of the building, he pulled up quickly, as Marksman appeared on the other side of the Lyon’s Den. He was not surprised to view the young earl, but Marksman’s sudden appearance had brought Navan’s step to a quick halt. Both he and Alexander were out of breath and frustrated as hell. “Where did he go?” Navan called.
Hartley, who knelt beside Navan, ordered, “I am going back to check the garden. Beaufort, follow the path to the adjoining streets. Marksman, see if the man went inside.”
Unfortunately, the crowds from inside began to pour out of the Den from every exit, which were numerous, as this building had at one time been a residence. Despair arrived quickly, for every empty pathway was now filled with hundreds of suspects.
“Look anyway,” Marksman ordered in what sounded of desperation. “Look in niches and behind every bush and door!”
Navan knew his friend was correct, but his mind kept announcing that their search would prove fruitless. All Duncan’s attacker had to do was to remove his coat and blend in with the others escaping the chaos. Only when Marksman growled, “Duncan cannot die! You and Graham and Orson all promised Lady Elsbeth that you would protect him!” did Navan again take up his search with a vow to view Duncan’s shooter hanging from a noose for the man’s audacity.
As he raced away, Navan said a prayer for God to spare Lord Macdonald Duncan, for, though they were all trained agents for the Crownand under Duncan’s tutelage, they were merely the body, while Duncan was the head and heart of the family. As odd as it was in concept, but as successful as it had proved, a body cannot continue to exist without its head.
