A Regency Rebel's Seduction: A Most Unladylike Adventure / The Rake of Hollowhurst Castle. Elizabeth Beacon

as he stood back to do so.

      ‘You would have done if you actually made use of the Judas hole I had put in for once,’ his employer informed him as he used Coste’s candle to light those in the sconces round the cosy dining parlour they had got nowhere near last night. ‘Is there anything edible in the house?’ he demanded and put a taper to the fire laid ready in the hearth for good measure.

      ‘Aye, sir. Miss Louisa gave me money for food and a couple of cleaning women. We’ve a good pork pie and a ham and all sorts of fancy bits of this and that. There’s treacle tart, apple pie and gingerbread, too, but not so much of the treacle tart as there might be,’ Coste said with a reminiscent grin.

      ‘And you two somehow managed until now without my housekeeper and a kitchenmaid?’ Kit asked mildly enough.

      ‘Well, I was going to tell you about that, Captain …’ Coste trailed off, casting a look at Hugh that begged him to take over explaining their misconduct.

      ‘We two bachelors proved too rowdy to satisfy Mrs Calhoun’s strict standards of behaviour and she took herself and her daughter off before there was any gossip about them being here with two rowdy bachelors like us,’ he obligingly admitted, nodding at Coste to make himself scarce while he still could.

      ‘I warrant she did,’ Kit replied grimly. ‘Don’t forget to bring that pie and a pint of porter along with tea for Miss Louisa,’ he urged his retreating manservant and watched Hugh with cold eyes. ‘I trust my sister was not caught up in that rowdiness,’ he added with such mild iciness that even Louisa shivered in her seat by the fire.

      Hugh shifted in his chair as Louisa carefully stared into the flames and Kit sighed rather heavily. ‘Later,’ he said portentously and Louisa felt as if the two men were once more having a silent but fierce conversation she didn’t understand, and that they had no intention of explaining any of it to her.

      Hugh Darke wasn’t in the least bit overshadowed by her powerful brother. Despite her captain’s apparently subservient role in Kit and Ben’s empire, he acted as Kit’s equal and her suspicions about his true place in the world crept back and left her wondering why he took orders from even so compelling, and successful, a pair as her brother and Ben Shaw. She furtively surveyed her brother and her lover in turn, noting the similarities in their elegantly powerful builds and proud carriage. They were both dark-haired as well, of course, but that was about the end of any similarity between them and Hugh Darke was certainly the more mysterious and contrary of the two, even judged on appearance alone.

      He had that strong Roman nose that looked as if it had been broken at some point in his varied career; emphatically marked dark brows frowned above his challenging silver-blue eyes and yet his mouth could have belonged on a poet or a troubadour, if not for the stern control he kept it under. She knew how sensitive it could feel against hers now, but the containment of it argued he’d been through a very hot fire to become the steely-eyed captain he was now. A younger Hugh Darke would be almost too handsome and appealing for his own good; she imagined this complex and contrary man carefree and laughing, and was glad to be spared that pristine version of him, since she was far too impressed with the current one to need any more encouragement.