“Only because he hated our father just as much as we did.” And since that first meeting and attending their brother’s wedding, they hadn’t heard from the Duke of Crane again. “He’s back to ignoring our existence.”
“The man’s a hermit who just got married,” Reaper pointed out. “It will take some time to thaw. Unlike this one.”
This onepulled out a seat and plopped down. “Are you talking about me?”
“So smart,” Reaper muttered.
Drake chuckled, shrugging at Deveraux. He was the only brother who had yellow hair, while the rest of them had black. Since joining their side, he’d shed his foppish attire and opted for more casual clothing, rarely buttoning up to his neckline. Reaper’s grudge might be because the newest addition to their number often ended up foxed and naked in Reaper’s bed instead of his own, claiming it was nearest to the stairs.
“Smart enough to know the two of you are up to no good.”
Drake arched his brow.
“What gives youthatidea?” Reaper muttered, his brow drawing down in a scowl.
Deveraux pulled a leaflet from his pocket and flicked it onto the table. “Thisgives me that idea.”
Bloody Pip.
Drake flicked the leaflet with a finger, sending it sliding across the table. “It’s nothing.”
“Oh?” Deveraux’s brows arched. “If it’s so nothing, then how is it that none of the others know about your London trouble?”
“I don’t have trouble,” Drake denied coolly.
“Anyone who’s had a run-in with that bullish dog has trouble.”
That gave Drake pause.
Even Reaper leaned forward. “You know him?” His eyes narrowed to slits. “Of course you know him, you diabolical son of a—”
“Reaper.” Drake shot his brother a warning look.
Reaper sank back with a grunt. “Fine, I won’t curse his mother. But that doesn’t mean—”
“I know,” Deveaux interrupted. “You don’t trust me. I wouldn’t either if I were you.”
“It’s good that you’re aware,” Reaper muttered. “So what do you know about this bulldog?”
“I know it never ends well for his enemies,” Deveraux said, lounging back and crossing one leg over the other. “I also happen to know he’s an earl, though I don’t know much else.”
Reaper’s head fell back. “Ah, Christ. And why not? Our life has never been easy.”
Drake cursed, too. An earl. He had no problem dealing with the titled, however, they came with their own set of provocations and weren’t convenient to deal with. But also not impossible. His cousin was an earl. Their half-brother was a duke. They had other noble connections as well. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Are you sure?” Reaper sneered. “A noble with wounded pride. The worst kind. No reasoning, no bargain. He will only be satisfied by seeing you crawl on stumps.”
“Then he’ll be disappointed,” Drake said evenly. “I don’t crawl. Hands or no hands.”
Deveraux arched a brow and jerked a thumb toward the discarded pamphlet. “Your plan won’t work.”
“Told you,” Reaper said, crossing his arms.
Drake didn’t mind their pessimism. “We’ll just have to see about that.”
“I’m telling you, he won’t show. If you’ve already humiliated the man, and it seems that you have—twice with that petty leaflet—he won’t take the risk of a third time.”
Good point.
