Cecilia: A Regency Romance (Families of Dorset Book 3) by Keyes Martha

Author:Keyes, Martha [Keyes, Martha]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2019-11-12T16:00:00+00:00

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Jacques picked up his pace as he walked Bond Street. The pantaloons he had worn to the prize fight had been stained past saving by a mixture of blood, sweat, and dirt, so he had spent the morning commissioning a handful of pieces of clothing. What good was coming to London if one didn’t take full advantage of the skilled tailors there?

His wounds were healing more quickly than he had anticipated—a fact for which he was grateful, as he found it very uncomfortable to satisfy people's questions about their origin.

He had sworn Letty to secrecy about what Miss Cosgrove had revealed concerning the impromptu match between him and Lord Retsford, and he hoped that she would be wise enough to keep her vow of silence.

He was brought up short by a standing figure blocking his way.

"Ah," said the man, "Lord Moulinet."

Jacques looked up to see the sneering half-smile of the marquess, whose face still contained bruising and swelling from their encounter at Harford. Jacques stifled a resigned sigh and nodded his greeting.

"My congratulations on your victory the other night," said the marquess. "You caught me on an evening when I was not at my best."

Jacques inclined his head. "I am sorry if you felt that the circumstances of the fight were unfair, my lord. I bid you good day." He moved to walk around the marquess, but the man moved to prevent him.

"Forgive me," said Lord Retsford, "but there is something very familiar about you that I cannot for the life of me seem to place." He smiled humorlessly at Jacques, who frowned.

"Fear not, though," continued the marquess, "I am determined to solve the mystery. ‘Something is rotten in the state of Denmark,’ I think."

Jacques swallowed and clenched his jaw, forcing a smile. "Perhaps the stench is not coming from me, my lord." He nodded again and took a wide step to the side, allowing him to pass by the marquess undeterred.

He felt his heart beating rapidly. Whether the marquess had indeed pegged Jacques for an impostor or whether he was simply determined to do his reputation harm, the fact remained: Jacques had secrets which, if ferreted out, would be his ruin.

His only consolation: no one among the society they kept knew of his charade.

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