1
London, England
May, 1892
Dante Rose, by-blow son of the late Earl of Huntington, brother to the current earl, Hunt, and older brother Driscoll, all partners in the exclusive Rose Room gaming club, stared at the missive in his hand. Another summons from their mysterious contact at the Home Office.
He had warned his brother, Driscoll in his terse manner earlier in the week that the assignment was coming. He flicked the paper with his finger and left the office to seek Driscoll, most likely in the breakfast room besottedly staring at his wife, Amelia. Both brothers had succumbed to the wiles of women in the past two years and had taken the march down the aisle to cut off all the fun and freedom a man found in life.
Not him. Never him. He had no title and as a by-blow of his father didn’t stand in line for the title no matter what happened to Hunt and Driscoll. Let his brothers wrangle with the restrictions of marriage and produce nurseries full of offspring. He would live his life the way he wanted until he took his last breath.
And that did not include tying himself to one woman. He liked women too much and despite his reputation, he believed in adhering to one’s marriage vows. He refused to believe that had anything to do with his birth status since he’d always been treated the same as his brothers.
Same nursery, same schools, same opportunities. Unsurprisingly, his step-mother did not shower the love on him as she did his brothers, but she always treated him with respect and his father’s attention and encouragement had more than made up for it.
He groaned as he entered the dining room. “Oh, damn, brother. Can’t you two keep your nonsense confined to your own bedroom? Or at least your own house?” Dante shook his head at his brother and sister-in-law just breaking apart from a kiss.
“Well, aren’t we in a fine mood this afternoon,” Driscoll said as he picked up his coffee cup.
Dante poured a cup of coffee and filled a plate with eggs, toast, tomatoes, and sausage. Although it was breakfast, due to the hours they worked at the club, the meal was served well past noon in the private dining room on the second floor of the establishment.
He placed his food on the table and leaned his forearms on either side of the plate and looked Driscoll in the eye. “My day is fine, but your day is about to become more difficult, brother.”
Driscoll raised his brows. “Why?”
Dante shook out his napkin and placed it on his lap. “The summons from the Home Office I told you about has arrived. As usual, our friend said nothing in the missive except that it might take some time.”
He remembered the conversation between him and Driscoll in the office earlier in the week.
“I will be gone for a while.”
“Home Office?” Driscoll asked.
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Not sure.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“We’ll handle everything.”
“Damn.” Driscoll ran his palm down his face. “Hunt might be able to help out a bit, but with another baby on the way, he’s a bit—distracted—shall we say?”