Duchess of Sin by Laurel McKee

evening out.
    “Oh, Anna my dear!” she cried, and rushed forward to kiss Anna’s cheek. “I just heard of your accident. Are you terribly hurt?”
    “Only my pride. My fine equestrian reputation will be quite ruined.”
    “I’m just sorry that I had already left.” They were interrupted by the servants bringing in tea, and only once they were settled
     by the fire did Jane go on. “It sounds so exciting. Tell me, is it true the Duke of Adair came to your rescue?”
    Anna nodded as she stirred at her tea. “I happened to be speaking with him when—when it happened.” She remembered the pop
     and whine of the bullets, whizzing past her toward him, and she shivered. They were both very lucky.
    “Were you really? Hmm.” Jane took a thoughtful sip. “I daresay Grant Dunmore won’t like
that.
”
    “No, he did not. I thought there might be a brawl right there on St. Stephen’s Green.”
    “So he was there, too?”
    Anna nodded.
    “Oh, my dear.” Jane gave a delighted laugh. “How delicious. And to think I missed it all.”
    “The duke said they were cousins of some sort. I take it there is no family love lost.”
    “To say the least.” Jane set her cup down and leaned forward in her chair, as if settling in for a good coze. “Do you not
     recall that old business over the estate? Adair Court is not terribly far from Killinan.”
    Anna also leaned forward so as not to miss a word. Jane did always know the
on dits.
“Unless it happened in the last year or two, I might not have heard. Mama didn’t like us listening to neighborhood gossip
     when we were girls.” She didn’t like it very much now, either, but she couldn’t stop Anna.
    “You did not know Adair almost lost the estate, which his family has held on to for centuries, due to the old Penal Laws?”
    “Yes, I did hear something of that,” Anna said. Under the harsh old Penal Laws against Irish Catholics, which had only been
     fully revoked in 1793, a Protestant could sue to take possession of a Catholic relative’s land if hecould prove the Catholic was disloyal to the Crown or misused the property. Since a Catholic was thought by definition to
     be disloyal, it was not a hard claim to make, but in truth that law was very seldom enforced at all. Most Irish families tended
     to protect their own, no matter what their disagreements.
    But the Adair case had been a spectacular one. Titled lords fighting over thousands of acres and hundreds of tenants, a fine
     ancient castle. And…
    “No!” Anna cried. She slumped back in her seat, feeling like a fool for being so shocked. She should have realized immediately
     when she saw them together, put together the old stories and their obvious hatred for each other.
    “It was Grant Dunmore who brought the suit,” she whispered.
    Jane nodded. “He never really had a chance, of course. Adair might be many unsavory things, but he
is
a duke. His ancestors held on to that title for centuries through whatever means necessary, and he is quite their ruthless
     equal. Dunmore was a fool to try it out. But his estate in Queen’s County is nothing compared to Adair Court. He wanted property
     to match his ambitions, and it blinded him to reality. He made a bad enemy of his cousin.”
    Still stunned by the depth of the poison between Adair and Grant Dunmore, Anna shook her head. “How do you know all this?”
    “Everyone knows. But my husband was one of the members of Parliament who heard the case. He was always very chatty, my Harry.”
     Jane gave her a sly smile. “And now they have you to fight over, A. How wonderful.”
    Anna crossed her arms against a sudden harsh feelingof anger and foolishness, and a cold understanding. “I am not a bone for two snarling mongrels to fight over.”
    “I hardly think a duke and a baronet could be called mongrels.”
    “I don’t want to be mixed up in that old business! There is too much hatred and division in this country already. It can’t
     be good to toss fuel