They talked of everything and nothing as the sun rose above the trees outside and the house below them awoke. Time seemed to fly, the light spilling in through the hatch lengthening and turning swiftly. Finally, there was a metallic click from below them and the hatch hinged open. Marshall stood on the stairs beneath. Nathan descended without help, with the air of a man who had made the same steps a thousand times. Gemma followed and Nathan strode away, trailing both her and Marshall as he barked instructions to the butler. When the manservant was made aware that their house guests of the previous evening may have filled their pockets and had been roaming the hallways, he was horrified and, upon his dismissal, hurried to raise a troop of male servants with whom to confront and evict the two blackguards.
No mention was made of Gemma or who she really was. Marshall had never met Emily Carlisle, nor had any of the other Hutton Castle staff. Nathan decided to keep Gemma’s secret as far as they were concerned. When the real Emily arrived, he would rethink, but for the moment it seemed best to help her keep her secrets.
Nathan smiled grimly at the thought as he escorted Gemma back to her quarters.
“I do not want to make trouble for you,” Gemma said. “I feel that I have made your life more complicated.”
“Nonsense. It is more interesting than it has been in a long while,” Nathan said graciously.
Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips. Then he heard her gasp.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” Stamford purred.
Nathan whirled to face the oily voice. Soft footsteps sounded. He recognized the grace and agility of a swordsman in that sound. Each foot was placed precisely, almost silently. That took control and poise. He re-evaluated Stamford.
I thought he was an imbecile. An arrogant lordling. But, I do believe the man is a swordsman. A fencer at any rate.
“I beg your pardon, Captain Stamford?” Nathan put a contemptuous emphasis on the rank.
“You do not disrespect an officer, Your Grace,” Stamford said.
“I respect a military man. I was a Colonel in the 1st Cavalry.”
Stamford stopped. “Indeed,” he snapped, sounding displeased.
“I rescind my hospitality. I should like your brother and you to leave my house forthwith.”
“We shall, with our cousin there.”
“She remains my guest.You, however, do not,” Nathan said.
“Do not stand between us, Your Grace. You will regret it.”
Nathan felt his anger rise and fought to control it. With a sword, he could still acquit himself well, but this renegade would doubtless fight dirty. And that rendered Nathan vulnerable. If he came close enough and continued to speak, Nathan was confident he could hit him squarely in the face and knock him off his feet. But again, Stamford would hardly feel himself bound to Queensberry rules.
“Elliot!” Dunkeswick said sharply from the end of the hallway.
“She is here, brother!” Stamford snapped.
“And a guest of the Duke. We have been asked to leave. We will do so,” Dunkeswick said calmly. “We take our leave, Your Grace. But will be in communication with you shortly about our unfinished business.”
Nathan listened as Stamford grumbled and swore his way down the hallway. He waited until the sounds of both men had vanished from his hearing and turned back to Gemma. She launched herself into his arms and he held onto her tightly.
CHAPTERTWELVE
“Ifear that I have caused you trouble that you neither want nor deserve,” Gemma said.
“Nonsense. I am merely doing what is right,” Nathan insisted.
They sat together in a high-ceilinged stone chamber in one of the oldest parts of the castle. A previous Duke had repaired a damaged section of wall with tall windows and now the room became flooded with sunlight in the morning. Gemma had gasped in awe at the display of golden fire that licked at the walls when she had first walked into the room. She felt jealous of the Duchesses who had called the castle their home. A small, round table had been set up before the windows, providing her with a view out over a carpet of woodland. She felt as though she sat within a fairy tale castle. Nathan sat with his back to the view, which was clearly lost on him.
“But I intruded into your home pretending to be someone else. By my actions, I have earned you the ire of my cousins. They are wicked men, I fear for what they will do.”
“I do not,” Nathan said firmly.
The breakfast that had been laid for them was a range of hot and cold foods with a steaming pot of tea. Nathan ignored the food, pouring himself a cup of tea. Gemma felt ravenous and wasted no time helping herself to some of the food. She stopped herself from launching into it, realizing that while Nathan would not be able to see her haste, he would doubtless hear it.
“You don’t know them,” Gemma said. “Oh, Lord, you would be far better off if I went on my way. Your ward will hardly be pleased to discover me here, impersonating her.”
