The Duke's Deception
Page 4
*~*~*
Larkin opened the door to his room, sticking his head out into the hallway. It was thankfully empty, and he stepped outside, shutting the door quietly behind him. He tugged his stolen jacket close, sneaking down the hallway. He kept an eye out for anyone who might drag him back to his room and lock him in this time, skirting a few hallways he knew would be populated.
He'd been hidden away in the healer's wing for almost three days, stuck in an all-white room with no windows and no visitors. It was more secure than his own rooms, and no one expected him to be there. Ruben had apparently sowed the seeds of rumor that Larkin had decided to leave the city for his estate for a brief respite from palace life.
That meant no visitors outside of Ruben and the occasional healer. It wasn't smart to be wandering the palace halls given most of his clients were suffering the loss of their dealer, but Larkin was relatively certain he'd go mad if he stayed one more minute in the little white room.
It was late enough that the halls were relatively empty, and Larkin was able to avoid anyone he heard coming, making use of a few empty rooms along the way. He was headed for one of the lesser libraries, the one he usually hid away in when he couldn't take his pretenses any longer.
Larkin's luck held until he reached the library and he let himself into the little room. The libraries in the palace were always unlocked by decree of some long-dead king. Larkin had no objections with that policy except when it worked against him and he wasn't alone in the library. He almost left again, though he wasn't sure where he'd go—certainly not back to his room.
Instead, he headed further into the room. There was someone in his usual chair by the fire, but this library boasted a second floor, even if the second floor was barely more than a balcony lined with books. He and the other library patron could ignore each other. It wouldn't be the first time; he'd ignored people on the balcony on previous visits.
Larkin headed for the stairs, tugging his borrowed jacket closer around his shoulders. He paused at the base of the stairs, half-hidden behind a support beam, when the person in his usual place stirred, sitting up straighter. From the door, he hadn't been able to see who it was, but from the base of the stairs, he had a direct line of sight.
Garnett.
Larkin didn't move, watching the way Garnett fidgeted with a half-full glass of amber liquid—probably scotch—and ignored the book in his lap to stare at the wall. He didn't seem to have noticed Larkin's entrance. That, or he was giving Larkin the same courtesy Larkin had intended to give him. Did Garnett often come to this library? Larkin stepped away from the staircase, ducking past the support beam.
Garnett looked up when he was a few feet away, a frown marring his face. He looked like he hadn't slept in a few days. He was uncharacteristically rumpled and exhausted looking. The tumbler slipped from his fingers when he saw Larkin, landing on the table with a loud thump.
"What are you doing here?" Garnett asked, sounding as surprised as he looked.
"Hiding," Larkin said, glancing around the library. "I can leave you in peace if you want?"
"I very much do not want," Garnett said. He stood quickly, nearly tripping himself up on the edge of the chair he'd been settled in. "Are you all right? Ruben wouldn't tell me anything, and then he said you'd left—"
"Oh, that ass," Larkin said, scrubbing a hand over his face. The lingering bruises twinged at the movement, but he ignored it. Garnett was suddenly much closer, his heady cologne as pleasant as ever. "That's the cover story. I'm supposed to be shacked up in the healer's wing, but since everyone thinks I'm gone, I'm left without anyone to talk to. I hadn't realized he told you that stupid story—"
"Are you all right?" Garnett asked, talking over Larkin. He reached out, gently touching Larkin's cheek where one of the bruises was. "Ruben wouldn't tell me much, only that you weren't dead."
"I'm fine," Larkin said, smiling—a real smile, not one of the ones he used to fob people off. "A bit sore, and I have a lot of bruises, but past that, I'm whole."
"Good," Garnett said. Before Larkin could do more than blink, Garnett closed the distance between them and kissed him. Larkin startled, not expecting that level of forward, particularly from Garnett. Unfortunately, Garnett seemed to take that as rejection, backing away.
"No, you don't," Larkin said, grabbing the front of Garnett's jacket and pulling him close. He kissed Garnett again, and after a brief hesitance, Garnett returned the kiss. He tasted like scotch and kissed like he'd been waiting for Larkin for years. It was everything Larkin had hoped it would be when he let himself hope in the darkest hours of the day.
"I really am going to kill Ruben," Garnett said, pulling back to speak. His cheeks were pleasantly flushed, and Larkin wanted to kiss him again much more than he wanted to find Ruben and strangle him.
"What did he tell you?" Larkin asked, reluctantly letting go of the front of Garnett's jacket. "I mean, past the cover story. I don't know what rumors are going around right now. He won't tell me anything past that I need to stay hidden."
"He didn't tell me anything past that you'd gone to your estate to visit your mother." Garnett took his hand, tugging Larkin over to the sofa in front of the fire. He abandoned the chair he'd been sitting in to sit next to Larkin, a smidge closer than propriety allowed, but Larkin wasn't going to object. "I've heard all the rumors in the books: that you're running off to marry a secret mistress, that your mother died under mysterious circumstances, that you're fleeing gambling debts…"
"Hah," Larkin said, leaning against the back of the sofa. He could probably fill Garnett in, though that might result in Ruben's death anyway. He doubted Garnett would approve of Ruben's recruiting methods. "None of the above."
"I figured as such given you're here and…" Garnett glanced down at their hands, fingers still intertwined. "If you can't tell me, that's fine. I'll beat it out of Ruben eventually."
"I probably shouldn't tell you," Larkin said, "but it's finished now and it won't hurt anything if you know. You know Ruben offered me a way to resolve my father's debts. He needed someone in my position—reputable but not—who could act as a conduit for information in the tagir trade. I was perfect because I had plenty of motive to want to make a lot of money quickly and I could move around the palace with impunity."
"Tagir?" Garnett repeated, his eyes widening.
"Yes," Larkin said, wondering if he should have kept it to himself after all. "The main tagir trade in the city is run with an iron fist by Aubert Montage—"
"Who was just caught," Garnett said, rubbing his forehead. "You were there."
"I was there," Larkin said, deciding to keep the why of that to himself. Garnett didn't need to know how close Larkin had come to not coming back at all. "But there are a lot of people in the palace I brokered to. Ruben is working on rounding them up, but until that's done, it's safer if I'm out of sight."
"Most people probably think you were the first one arrested," Garnett said, not sounding too happy about that. "Though I haven't heard much about that past a few minor arrests here and there."
"Ruben is good at keeping things quiet," Larkin said, shrugging. "But he has Aubert Montage and as much of the trade as I could get information on. That was the extent of our deal."
"You don't want to continue to work with him?" Garnett asked. He was watching Larkin closely. So this was a test, but Larkin didn't need to cheat on this test.
"No, absolutely not," Larkin said, wrinkling his nose. "I've had my fill of cloak and dagger business."
"Really?" Garnett asked, his lips curving into a sweet smile. "So you don't need to avoid me anymore?"
"It's probably safer if I stick with you as much as possible. I'm sure it'll do wonders for my reputation," Larkin said, tilting a smile at Garnett. "Though it'll probably drag your name through the mud."
"I don't care about my reputation, I care about you," Garnett said, his hand suddenly tightening on Larkin's.
That declaration deserved a kiss, and Larki
n gladly gave it, drawing Garnett close. There were plenty of things left to settle and deal with in the aftermath of Montage's capture, but Larkin would deal with those problems as they came. It was enough that he was still alive and that he had Garnett.
Fin
About the Author
Sasha L. Miller spends most of her time writing, reading, or playing with all things website design. She loves telling stories, especially romance, because there’s nothing better than giving people their happily ever afters. When not writing, she spends time cooking, harassing her roommates, and playing with her cats.
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