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“Yes, and he doesn’t agree,” His Grace said, shaking his head. “He believes that it’s one of his former servants.”
“What would be the link, there?” Lord Fulton asked. “With the other gentlemen, I mean?”
“Not a clue,” His Grace replied. They all went silent, sipping their drinks and thinking about how Charles was guilty. Charles himself was in a panic. Luckily, Lord Dunsmore had not forgotten himself nor his mission.
“My Lords,” Lord Dunsmore began. “I was wondering if you know of someone ‘oo might ‘elp me procure something…of a secret nature?”
The Duke of Longmire grinned. “Well, if you’ve been allowed into the Millgate Club, then you can certainly use our procurer.” He pulled a card out of his pocket, handing it to Lord Dunsmore, with a bit of a flourish. “I will warn you, though—he’s hard to get to.”
“How so?”
His Grace raised his eyebrow. “He’s well-protected. He doesn’t come out often. You will be expected to provide proof that you’re a noble. He only deals with nobles.”
“But he’ll be able to get me what I want?” Lord Dunsmore asked.
“Of course, My Lord. He’s…very well situated for that sort of thing,” His Grace assured him with a confident smile.
“Merci, My Lord,” Lord Dunsmore said, tucking the card away in the breast pocket of his coat. He flashed Charles a triumphant grin.
