Which made him wonder about Malloryn's fighting ability.
He'd never seen the duke fight, though he knew Malloryn was devilishly handy with a pistol. He'd proved that when they all rode to rescue Byrnes last month.
Malloryn wasn't the sort to set himself up for embarrassment. No. He was the sort to set a trap, and as he caught Kincaid's eye, he smiled faintly.
Son of a bitch.
This was going to hurt, he suspected.
The pair of them danced around the duke as he limbered up. Malloryn had stripped to his trousers, like they had, and the duke was surprisingly muscular for a man Kincaid hadn't seen actually do much.
"Anytime the pair of you are ready," Malloryn said, shooting Kincaid a mocking little smile.
He went in, hammering a blow toward Malloryn's weaker side, but the duke was suddenly not there, striking up with a chop of his hand that slammed into Kincaid's throat.
He hit the mats, feeling like he couldn't breathe, and knowing Malloryn pulled the blow. Fuck. Charlie was dancing around, faring a little better, and Kincaid swallowed hard, before kicking the duke's feet out from under him.
Malloryn wasn't down for long. He arched his back and flipped onto his feet, turning to keep them both in his line of sight. He looked mildly discomposed.
And Kincaid suddenly wanted to take the bastard down.
"Work as a team," Kincaid told Charlie, lumbering to his feet, his braces holding him upright as he settled into a more defensive stance.
They moved together, trying to take Malloryn unawares. Punches hammered toward the duke, but he was simply never there. A hand caught Kincaid's wrist, heaving him in a wrestler's throw, and he somehow managed to flip over Malloryn's back, landing on his feet. Charlie stepped in, trying to distract the duke, and Kincaid decided the only way to do this was to throw all his cards in.
He took the duke down in a dive, Malloryn twisting like a cut cat in his arms. An elbow slammed into his solar plexus, and then his jaw, and Kincaid saw stars as the duke rolled over him and landed a sweeping kick to Charlie's chest.
"Jesus." Charlie hit the mats.
Kincaid tried to lift himself off them. This was not working the way he'd planned. Everything hurt.
"Where... the fuck... did you learn to fight like that?" Kincaid panted, hands on his knees, as he waited for Charlie to get to his feet.
"I was one of the heirs of a Great House." Malloryn was at least breathing hard. "The first time someone tried to kill me, I was six, for the only way to become head of one of the Echelon Houses is to either assassinate your way to the top, or present a duel to the death. My father was ambitious. I started playing with knives when I was two."
"Well," Gemma drawled from the doorway. "I hate to interrupt the sweat session, however, there's been a note, and it says it's urgent."
Malloryn lowered his hands from their defensive stance. "Had enough?"
Kincaid lifted his head from his slumped pose, then exhaled and nodded. "Yeah. You win."
Gemma clucked her tongue. "Which one of you two was foolish enough to challenge him?"
Kincaid raised a hand, then reached out to offer Charlie a lift to his feet.
"In Kincaid's defense"-Charlie threw the words over his shoulder-"I was right there with him. Didn't know His Grace could handle himself."
"Perhaps next time we can oil all three of you up, and let you have at it?" A sudden innocent smile decorated her full mouth, and her gaze slid over the three of them lasciviously. "But only if I get to let the rest of the ladies watch."
Charlie flushed pink and scrabbled for his shirt. Both Kincaid and Malloryn eyed each other. The duke's smile had faded, and he was once again reverting back to his controlled persona.
Pity. For a second, Kincaid had almost liked the bastard. Even if he was mercilessly beating the pair of them.
"You used to be more fun, Auvry," Gemma murmured, crossing her arms over her chest.
Malloryn sighed, and dragged his shirt on, buttoning it up to his chin. "I used to be naïve too. Yes, even me. What have you got for me?"
Gemma held up a small envelope. "I don't know. It's addressed to you, and I didn't think you'd appreciate it if I opened it."
"That's never stopped you in the past," Malloryn pointed out, snatching up the letter, and examining it. "You used to slide a hot knife under the seal, then re-melt the wax to seal it."
"Perhaps I learned my lesson?" There was something sad about her smile. "Maybe I'm not as fun as I used to be either?"
Malloryn met her eyes, and Kincaid felt like an observer in some intimate dilemma. He knew there was history between the two of them, though he doubted it was romantic. Gemma had failed Malloryn once, though that was the extent of what Kincaid had heard.