The Soldier's Scoundrel (The Turner Series, #1)

by Cat Sebastian

He had come here to get to the bottom of whatever hold, if any, this fellow had over Charlotte, not to mentally undress criminals.

He finished his gin—it was predictably terrible, but that was almost the point of gin—and

“I was fencing.” And licking the thumbs of confidence artists.

Oliver hadn’t been prepared for this aspect of his injury–always having to talk about it, always having to act faintly apologetic when other people’s proposed cures failed to work.

“Because I am not going to blackmail you, you bloody interfering toff. For a lot of reasons, not least of which is that it’s a nasty fucking thing to do,

And happy people don’t engage in blackmail.” “They don’t?” This was not something Oliver had ever thought about. “What crimes do happy people commit, then?”

But some crimes are just nasty. Arson, blackmail, anything involving children. You’ll only see the worst kinds of miserable bastards doing those things.”

“I ought to always have an aristocrat when I want to look into other people’s houses. It’s a hell of a lot easier than climbing drainpipes and shimmying through garret windows.” That, Oliver knew, was the closest he was going to get to an expression of thanks. Which was fine, he supposed, since all he had done was get fathered by a peer.

“So you paid to have your cock sucked inadequately? That’s even worse.”

Besides, I like Mr. Rivington. He has excellent taste in fabric.