Page 13 of The Dueling Duchess

Not to mention the rest of her life.

* * *

“Good God, she’s a beauty,” Guy said, striding down the slush-filled, crowded street beside Sin.

“She is quite . . . appealing,” Sin murmured, sounding almost grudging.

“Appealing?” Guy repeated. “She’s bloody gorgeous, man! I saw her once before—but only from the audience—and thought her merely lovely. But up close she is a stunner.” He frowned. “One would never guess that she is a woman in her thirties.”

“What are you talking about?” Sin asked. “She is twenty.”

Guy turned to his friend. “I was talking about Miss Tremblay.”

Sin’s eyebrows arched in surprise and a faint red stain darkened his already cold-flushed skin. “Oh.”

“Who were you talking about?” Guy asked, not that it took a genius to guess.

Sin shrugged.

Hmm. That was interesting.

“If you find her so entrancing perhaps you can do all the volunteering for her,” Sin said, his tone more than a bit peevish.

“Have you seen her shoot? I am not nervous.”

Sin gave him a look of disbelief.

“What?” Guy demanded. “The woman is the most skilled marksman—er, markswoman—” He paused and thought a moment. “Actually, she’s the most talented shot I’ve ever seen, full stop. Do you know any man who can shoot like that? No, you don’t,” Guy added because it looked as if Sin was going to run through all their bloody acquaintances. He could be stubborn that way. “She is damned amazing.”

“Guy—” Sin broke off and clamped his jaws shut.

“What?” Guy asked.

“Nothing.”

“No, go ahead and say whatever it was you were thinking.”

“You do understand that we will be traveling across France with these two women—and the rest of Farnham’s employees—for as long as eight weeks, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sin,” Guy said with exaggerated patience. “I know that we are engaging in this entire façade for serious reasons, not for a lark. Or don’t you recall that I was there when we discussed all this? Do you think I’m not committed to our mission? That I don’t want to help you rescue Benjamin?”

“I’m not suggesting that at all, Guy. I know you are as eager as I am to help ransom my brother and get him back to England safe and sound. However, I think you, er, underestimate the effect you’re likely to have on Farnham’s employees—the female ones, for certain—and I think you don’t fully comprehend that if you dally with any of these women, we shall have to contend with the repercussions for weeks, perhaps even months.”

“Repercussions,” Guy repeated.

“Yes, you know what I’m talking about.”

“These are all adult women, Sin, not schoolgirls.”

“All your lovers are adults, Guy, but that hasn’t stopped some of them from”—he flung up his hands—“Devil take it, man! You know what I am trying to say.”

“Yes, Sin. I know what you mean.”

Unfortunately, there was some truth to the other man’s concern.

As hard as Guy worked to avoid it, sometimes the women he sported with surprised him. And not always in a good way. Sometimes, they fancied themselves in love with Guy, which was not only inconvenient, but ludicrous. While he might be loveable—his mother and sisters thought so, at least—he never spent more than a few hours with any of his paramours and he always, always, always avoided emotional intimacy.

Sin cleared his throat. “As attractive as you find Miss Tremblay, perhaps you might want to keep matters between you on a business footing? At least until we’ve rescued Benjamin and brought him home. Once we’ve completed our business in France and are back in London—well, then you may do what you like with her.”