Duke of Dishonor by Tammy Andresen (books for 9th graders .txt) 📕

giving this to you. It’s a list of names and addresses of every man in the crime ring that’s been plaguing us. Including, I believe, the leader. I can’t think of a better man to identify each and every one of the names and places on this list.” He drew in a deep breath. “I haven’t slept in over two days; I’ve crawled through every back alley of London and I’m dog-tired. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t urgent. So please.” He shook his head. “I’ll go myself if you won’t join me, but time is ticking, and I’ve got a feeling in my gut that if we don’t act—”

“I’m coming,” Eliza cut him off. “I’ll just get my pelisse.”

“Eliza,” Menace hissed at his wife. “You can’t just decide—”

“They’re my sisters,” she said by way of an answer, then she turned and gestured to Isabella. “We’re not negotiating.”

“Can you believe her?” Menace mumbled, running a hand through his hair again. “What possessed me to marry such a strong-willed woman?”

“I can’t attest to that,” Brandon answered. “But I can tell you she’s exactly like my friend, her father.” He meant to make a point and his words hit their mark.

That stilled Bash. He looked at Dishonor for several moments before he gave a terse nod. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Within minutes they’d departed, crammed into the Duke of Devonhall’s carriage. “Start talking,” Bash grumbled the second they sat. “If I don’t like what you say, we turn around.”

“I’d like to know who your friend is,” Menace added. “The one I saw stealing from the crown.”

Goldthwaite had joined them too. “I’d like to know who he is.” He pointed at Brandon. “Not many men can hide their identity from me.”

Isabella and Eliza sat together holding hands. It was Isabella, with her eyes so like Emily’s that redirected the conversation. “You’ll all have to wait. Tell us what’s about to happen to our sisters that has you so worried.”

He gave a terse nod. “I’ve been following the coin. For about a month now.” He looked over at Menace. “And I was only able to do that because my friend, the man you saw, infiltrated the ring of thieves as a thief himself.”

Menace’s mouth fell open and then snapped closed. “Proceed.”

“Last night while I was watching the collection of coin, I heard about six men talking. Your uncle lost his life…” he hesitated, wincing as he looked at Eliza.

She straightened a look of remorse crossing her face. “We’re aware. Continue.”

“Your uncle lost his life because he failed to deliver you.”

He heard Eliza’s sharp intake of breath, but Isabella patted her sister’s hand. “Our uncle was a fool to make bargains with such men. Don’t think a thing about it.”

“I know,” Eliza answered. “But Avery never can know any of this.”

“Avery?” He asked.

“Uncle Malcolm’s daughter. Our cousin.”

“Who is also at our home,” Bash added, giving him a meaningful glare.

He understood. Keep quiet around Avery.

“Please continue.” Isabella leaned toward him.

“Yes.” He scrubbed his face. “Then they began discussing how they might gain favor with their boss. Maestro they called him. The long and short of it was that they decided delivering one of the unwed Carrington sisters was their best plan.”

“And you’re just telling us this now?” Bash half yelled from his seat. It filled the carriage, causing Brandon to wince. The man had a point.

He rubbed his eyes, tiredness and fear making him feel stretched thin. “Try to understand. I spent more than a year trying to unravel this mystery. It’s important to all of us that these thieves be rooted out. I was so close, I had to see it through.”

Decadence leaned forward. “You could have sent word.”

“Bash.” Isabella touched her husband’s arm. “We know now, and we’ll make sure they’re safe.”

Brandon sat back in his seat scrubbing his face again. Because he couldn’t shake that feeling that time was running out. Or that he’d failed Emily again…

Emily buttoned her coat as she looked out the large doors that led to the back garden. She’d decided a walkabout with some fresh air would do wonders for the dark mood that had settled over her.

Abigail was right. Being trapped in the house was driving them both mad.

She hadn’t been this jealous of her sisters since she’d been a small girl. Eliza got the best of everything with her forward personality, and Isabella had always collected praise for her steadfast nature.

Abigail had been the sweet, adorable baby, while Emily…she’d been plain old Emily.

Her sisters swore she’d become the most beautiful, but she wasn’t certain. Was that a trait of value? She’d rather be brave, or strong, or incite the passion of men…or perhaps just one man.

And clearly, she’d had far too much time to think.

Because when she wasn’t comparing herself to her sisters, she was dreaming of a man who’d never even told her his real name.

He’d saved her life.

And he’d been shot while protecting her.

But who was to say he wouldn’t have done the same for any of her sisters?

She stopped at the far end of the garden, staring up at the sinking sun in the sky. It had warmed the air in the middle of the day, but now the wind was brisk and cold. Still, it cleared her head and steadied her thoughts.

She needed to find a way to help her sisters. They were attempting to solve a mystery while she sat at home pining. Action would surely make her feel better.

She nodded, though no one was watching. The question was, what to do? And once she’d decided upon that, she’d have to find the strength to enact her plan. Like she had the first day she’d met Dishonor.

Her hair fluttered in the breeze as she considered. She could return home and search the house again. They’d looked a hundred times but it had been months since their last search, and they’d learned so much since then. Perhaps they’d overlooked something that didn’t hold meaning before.

She could go to her father’s