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means they could. Inevitably, though, they didn’t have the true hunger Seb had. A hunger born from desperation and honed into an unflinching willingness to do whatever he must. “What does interest me is who is paying him his fee to try to murder a maid and a duke’s daughter. Do we know that?”

“Not yet,” Lance conceded. “But I have men asking around to see if they can find that out.”

“Tell them to look at Lord Daverell too,” Seb said. Once they knew who was actually behind the attempts, then they could take some true action. And if it was Daverell, Seb would make certain the man was stopped. Permanently. “We also need to find this maid before the Lads do.”

“Yes, I know.” Lance stood and strode over to the door, but then he paused. “Should I arrange protection for Lady Olivia?”

“I’ve already done so.”

“You have?” Lance seemed surprised.

“Yes. I have three of our men protecting her,” Seb briefly explained, not liking the look of interest that crossed between Rowan and Lance upon hearing this. “Is that a problem for either of you?”

Both men quickly held up their hands and shook their heads, muttering “no” quite a bit. If he wasn’t so annoyed at them, he may have laughed.

“I’ve never known you to organize protection for a lady before.” It was Lance who spoke and shrugged slightly with the observation. “It’s unusual for you, that is all.”

“I’m protecting my investment.” Seb didn’t know why he felt the need to defend his actions, which were completely logical given the circumstances. “There’s nothing unusual about that.” Not to mention his sister would be with Livie today. But they should be fine in London’s richest areas. Even the Lads wouldn’t dare accost them in the middle of Bond Street.

“Very well.” Lance said, pulling open the door. “I’m off to find the maid, then.” He nodded at both Seb and Rowan before leaving just as swiftly as he’d come.

“I’ll help him find the maid, too,” Rowan affirmed. “After I sort out getting eyes on the warehouse to watch for the leader of the Lads.”

“Good.” Seb returned his head to study the papers on his desk.

“One thing though?”

Seb glanced back up. “Yes?”

“I know Lance often overreacts and is very protective…”

“And?” Seb prompted the lad.

“Well, I think in this case he has good reason to be worried.” Rowan squared his shoulders. “Whoever this man is, he’s out to get you, Seb. And I know you’ve built a reputation as being practically infallible, but we both know you’re not.”

“I’m well aware I can bleed, Rowan.”

“Just don’t take the threat lightly is all I’m saying. And I’ll not add anything more on the matter.” Rowan twisted on his heel, leaving Seb alone with his thoughts.

Both Rowan and Lance were carrying on like worried nursemaids. It was damn annoying. Seb knew how to look after himself; he’d been doing it since he was a child. And no leader of any other gang was going to threaten all Seb had worked his life to achieve.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“So, this is the girl I am to sponsor, is it?”

Livie’s aunt held a monocle up to her left eye and peered through it, looking Charlotte up and down from her feet to the top of her head. “Hmm…I see there shall be a lot of work required to get her up to my standards. Particularly if she is to attend my ball in a fortnight.”

Beside her, Charlotte bristled and Livie placed a hand gently on the girl’s forearm. “Remember our conversation in the carriage,” Livie whispered to her.

Charlotte gave a sharp little nod and Livie dropped her hand, hoping the girl wasn’t going to lose her temper.

“Well, if anyone is up to the task of turning her into a diamond of the first water, Aunt Demelza, it is you.”

Demelza’s eyes, glistening with keen intelligence, snapped over to Livie. “You know how I detest flattery, my dear. Those who flatter are only ever after something from me. I can see through it a mile away.” She banged her cane on the floor for emphasis.

“You may detest it, though you like it equally as much.” Livie smiled.

“Hm…perhaps,” her aunt allowed, her eyes swinging back to continue her assessment of Charlotte.

Livie sighed. “Of course, like I have said before, dear Aunt, if you think this project is too difficult for you to succeed in, I shall completely understand if you give up on it.” She wandered over to her aunt and threaded her arm through Demelza’s. “No one would think any less of you for failing.”

Failing was the one word Livie had learned over the years her aunt could not stand to attribute to herself.

“Fail?” she scoffed, lowering her monocle and facing Livie. “I never fail at anything! And this shall be no different. This young lady will be the toast of the town when I am done with her. But, good gracious, girl.” She turned and snapped at Charlotte. “Stand up straight! When you slouch like that, you look like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. It is most unattractive and will not attain you a suitable match.”

Charlotte’s jaw dropped open, and Livie could see a fierce expression creeping into her eyes; it was the same one Sebastian got whenever he was about to give Livie a piece of his mind.

“The girl is barely slouching at all,” Livie quickly interjected.

“Slouching is slouching, no matter how small.” The duchess narrowed her eyes at Livie. “Goodness, girl, you are slouching, too. Shoulders back! I taught you better.” She returned her sharp gaze to Charlotte. “She’s attractive, I suppose, which will assist, though she needs her hair done properly, and, of course, she will need a whole new wardrobe for the season. The dress she is wearing is not even fit for my maids.” She turned back around to face Livie. “Do tell me you have an appointment for her with Madame Arnout.”

“We’re going there straight after here,” Livie confirmed, noting in some alarm that Charlotte

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