Read Celeste Bradley - [The Liar's Club 02] for Free Online Page A

ready?”
    Kurt would have looked almost sad—if mountains could show emotion. “Not a bit of it, milord. A kitten’d take him out now.”
    “Damn.” Dalton looked down at James. He’d been a good operative before he had taken a bullet in the shoulder for the Prime Minister. Dalton had hopes of getting him back in the field soon.
    Crestfallen, James gazed back up at him from the mat. “My apologies, Dalton. I know you wanted me for the Thorogood mission.”
    “That I did. It had to be someone who could pass in Society. With you still recovering and Ren Porter out, possibly forever, there wasn’t a Liar available who could do the job.”
    James managed a grin. “But you did look fine as the fop last night. And I must give Button my compliments. Today’s costume bids fair to being yet more eye-popping.”
    Tugging at the wine-red frock coat that he wore over tangerine breeches, Dalton gave James his best “watch yourself squint. James only grinned unrepentantly back. Dalton’s lips twitched reluctantly. “Humph. If you don’t discuss my costume, I won’t discuss the amount of time you’ve spent on the floor today.”
    “Agreed.” James rolled his head to turn a roguish gaze on Kurt. “I’ve decided I should change my Liar nickname, Kurt. Instead of ‘the Griffin,’ what do you think of ‘the Wolf,’ since I’m so lean and fast now?”
    Kurt gazed down at James impassively. “More like the Scarecrow, you bein’ more skinny than lean. Me-thinks a man gets named when he’s earned it, and he takes the name he’s given.” He sent an impenetrable glance to Dalton. “Just ask the gentleman if that ain’t the way of it.”
    Dalton held the big man’s gaze with composure but inwardly he wondered what the big assassin truly thought of the new spymaster.
    Kurt had seen a few spymasters come and go, for he’d been here since before Dalton’s own predecessor, Simon Raines, had joined as a boy.
    Had Kurt tested Simon so relentlessly when he’d taken over for the Old Man? Possibly, although Simon had been groomed by the Old Man himself, taken from the streets and trained alongside the men at every turn. Like a son taking over a business from his father, since the story held that the Old Man’s own son had wanted none of it.
    Dalton had no such advantage of familiarity with the Liars. Even James was less friend than comrade, for the bond they had was one forged during their accidental adventure a few weeks past when James’s sister Agatha had so desperately needed Dalton’s help.
    With one hand Dalton pulled James to his feet. The younger man still weighed too little. His health was slowly returning, but his wound and previous imprisonment had drawn him to his finest line. He wasn’t half up to fighting weight yet.
    Another life shattered by the war against Napoleon. Would that madman never stop costing England her sons?
    James had caught back some of his breath and was dusting himself off, although the half-furnished gymnasium was spotless. Tactfully, he changed the subject. “I still don’t see why I couldn’t have done it. If I were playing an artist type, I wouldn’t need to be very athletic.”
    Kurt grunted as he gathered up the last of the equipment they had used. “Weak as a girl. Even Button’d make pudding of ye, like as not.”
    Dalton gazed evenly at Kurt. “Will you be joining us across the way, Kurt?”
    Kurt cast a glance over his shoulder and snorted as he lifted the heavy gear with one hand and toted it toward the weapons storage room. One could possibly construe that as agreement, if one were a bloody optimist.
    Dalton watched Kurt leave the ring, then turned back to James. “There were two more reasons you weren’t chosen. First, you were made overly visible recently when you took that bullet for Lord Liverpool. Second, it’s common knowledge that you’ve been out of the country much of the past year. Sir Thorogood has been in operation for at least that long.” Dalton