Page 24 of Devil in Her Details

The corner of his mouth lifted.

“What the hell are you doing?” Reaper growled in a whisper.

His gaze flicked to his brother. “What do you mean what am I doing? Observing. The same as you.”

“You’re flirting, frère.”

An instant scowl darkened his face. “Watch your mouth.”

Reaper arched his scarred brow. “Why? Uncomfortable with the truth?”

“What’s there to be uncomfortable about except you trying to place meaning on details that mean nothing.”

“No need to lose your temper, frère. Did that marquess return?”

Dagger ignored the taunt lest he really bloody lose his temper and simply answered the question. “No. He should have left Brighton like the devil was on his heels.”

“Did you see him gather his belongings and dash for the hills?” Reaper asked. “And you’re not wearing your daggers. Again.”

Bloody Christ. What was with this wet nurse fussing? “Not that it’s any of your business, but I do have daggers on me.”

“Not the usual,” Reaper remarked. “Admit it, you don’t want to scare the lady off.”

God save him. “And why is that a problem? You heard Calvington. She’s the daughter of the duke. Her friends are not simple either.” He pierced his brother with a glare. “Should I have them run before your suspicions are alleviated?” He didn’t for one moment believe she had anything to do with his uncle or his brother.

“Call my suspicions alleviated.”

Dagger snorted. “Then why are you still ‘observing’ them?”

“I’m annoyed.”

Dagger arched his brow. What sense did that make?

“We haven’t heard so much as a whisper of our dear uncle.”

“Perhaps if you practiced more patience, you wouldn’t be annoyed,” Dagger remarked. There seemed to be a different sort of restlessness hounding his brother of late. But he’d always been prickly in nature. Volatile. So it was hard to say if this was different or a more wound-tight version of his brother.

Reaper sipped his tea. “Somethings brewing in the air. I can feel it.”

Aye. That was true. “I think we can all feel it. Which is why we are here and we do what needs doing.”

“Says the man who didn’t want to do anything when I first brought the little bird to his attention.”

“Cat,” Dagger corrected. “She believes herself a cat. A lynx, to be exact.” His gaze made its way back to her. A stubborn cat. A cat that didn’t need to storm out and confront her pest, yet she had. And had done so without hesitation. Dagger had certainly encountered forward women before. Some who would even slit a man’s throat in his sleep. But never one like her.

Both wild and strangely tame.

Dagger’s senses sharpened as the trio rose. Lilly reached down beside her chair and lifted a small valise while the man placed a coin on the table.

“Seems they are moving on to business,” Reaper noted offhandedly. “You going to follow?”

“Not yet.”

Reaper snorted.

Dagger crossed one ankle of the other, legs stretched out wide as the trio moved to the staircase that led to the upper floor. Her companions started up first with Lilly trailing a step behind them. Just before she vanished from sight, she paused—only for the briefest moment—then disappeared up the stairs.

Reaper whistled. “Won’t even spare you a glance. How savage.”