“None. But, he stipulated that the Baron of Dunkeswick should control the estates he wished to bequeath to me. To act as trustee. When he died, that duty fell to Eugene.”
“The devils!” Nathan breathed, sitting back. “I begin to see why they are so keen to keep you. The Kirkby fortune must have been considerable.”
“Father did not share such things with me. He taught me to ride, fish, hunt, and shoot. But, he did not believe it a daughter’s place to be involved in the running of a great estate.”
“Short-sighted of him,” Nathan said, reflectively. “Oh, I am sorry. That just sort of came out. I did not mean to malign your late father.”
Gemma smiled. “That is quite alright. It was. My father was a great man and I loved him dearly. But in this regard, I believe he was short-sighted.”
Nathan stood abruptly, throwing down the napkin that he had spread across his lap. “Enough of this maudlin talk. I have felt the sun on my face and can tell it is not a day for thinking of weighty matters. It is a day for riding and being out of doors. One must seize April days for one never knows what the next will bring.”
He turned on his heel, in that peculiarly military manner of his, and put out his right arm. Gemma rose and hurriedly took it. Nathan turned his face to hers and smiled, bowing his head.
“My Lady Kirkby, will you allow me to escort you a turn or two around the grounds?”
“I should be delighted, Your Grace,” Gemma giggled, lowering herself into a curtsy that he could not see.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
“How will you explain me to your servants?” Gemma asked anxiously as she followed Nathan through the hallways of the castle.
It had occurred to her that so far the butler, Marshall, knew of her presence but believed her to be Emily. But what if there was a member of staff who knew the true Emily? Would they see the truth? Worse, would they assume that Gemma was the Duke’s scarlet woman?
“Marshall will tell them what they need to know. That you are our expected guest and my new ward. None of them have met Emily before or know what she looks like.”
“And you trust your household?”
“Some of them served in this house under my father. Marshall among them,” Nathan answered. “Some were employed by me to replace those that left this house at the first opportunity. To those who remained, I made a promise. I would pay them the best wages for their work and give them fair conditions. In return, I expected loyalty. After all, a blind man relies heavily on trust.”
“Yes, I see. I do not want to trigger gossip,” Gemma replied.
Nathan grinned. They were descending a broad, carpeted staircase that turned through a series of broad landings. Each landing was lit by an impressive, tall window, providing breathtaking vistas of the surrounding countryside.
“Marshall is the soul of discretion. When I returned to Hutton, he said to me that he had prayed for the day when a real Duke would once again reign over the castle. A man worthy of Aelfric is what he said.”
“Aelfric?” Gemma queried.
“The man Marshall claims our family is descended from. A myth of course. Aelfric ruled before the Conquest. But it is a legend that is a source of much pride in the Ramsay family. And Marshall believes that he is descended from an equally ancient stock of old Mercia. So, he takes the legends seriously. I let him.”
“Is there nothing in this place that is not straight from a storybook?” Gemma giggled.
They reached the slick marble floor of the Great Hall. Nathan felt the stone beneath his feet and heard the distinctive sound it made. The feel of the warm sun on the back of his neck from the windows behind him and the scent of flowers that were kept in vases by the entrance to the castle served to orientate him. But the scent of Gemma was a distraction that kept his mind from its usual, razor focus.
He hesitated, looking first this way, then that. She smelled of wildflowers, fresh, clean, and deliciously feminine. That took Nathan’s mind on a jaunt through the previous evening. His fall had been excusable. But the subsequent assault on Gemma was not. It still bothered him. What bothered him more was that he craved to do it again.
It could not be helped though. He wanted to be in her company. Wanted to fill his head with her scent. Wanted to hear her voice and feel her hand upon him.
“Do you need help, Nathan?” Gemma asked tentatively.
Nathan felt himself flush and was annoyed at the reaction. “No,” he snapped.
Then he turned in the direction of her voice. “Forgive me, Gemma. I regard the need to be helped as quite abhorrent. As I do being reminded of my impairment. But, you were not to know. We go out through the main doors, this way.”
“Forgive me, Nathan. But from what I have so far seen, it is less an impairment and more…some kind of supernatural ability. I do not want to make light of it, but what you can perceive by smell and hearing alone is astonishing.”
Nathan smiled, used to the amazement and the compliments, and glad that she had no sound of offense in her voice. They crossed the hallway to the main doors. He had recovered his equilibrium sufficiently to reach for and find the door handle and allow Gemma to precede him, closing the doors behind him.
“What you are seeing is the old drawbridge, now fixed in place and converted into a bridge. Below it is what remains of the moat, a deep, dry gully. The doors we have just stepped through were once the gates leading into the keep.”
