The speculation and interest in the man’s eyes were unnerving. Peter inclined his head. “Mr. Tunley.” His eyes narrowed as he took the man in. It appeared he need not wait to reach the next house after all. “You are a tenant of the duke’s?”
“Aye,” the man answered with a smile. His chest puffed out like a cock of the barnyard. “My family has been a tenant of the Dukes of Dane for generations. They’ve always treated us good, they have.”
“Surely not the current duke,” Peter said.
But Mr. Tunley looked at Peter as if he’d lost his mind. “No, sir,” he answered with unfeigned puzzlement, “His Grace is a wonderful landlord. Why, just last year my boy took ill, and he had the physician down and everything.”
You’re wrong, Peter wanted to shout.The man is no better than a snake.Quincy, seeing the outrage and frustration in him, spoke.
“I pray your boy made a full recovery?”
“Oh, aye,” the man said, his eyes clearing as his attention shifted to Quincy. “That he did. He’s right as rain now.”
“Good, good. You say your family has lived here for generations?”
“Nigh on two hundred years now. Been raising sheep on the same land as my grandfather’s grandfather’s grandfather.”
“And you’ve never thought of uprooting?” Quincy asked. “Of settling somewhere else, with all the possibilities that are arising in this new age?”
Mr. Tunley could not have looked more horrified. “Never sir,” he breathed. “My life’s in this land. Why, I would rather cut off my right arm than leave.”
A heavy ball settled in Peter’s stomach. The man was so overcome by Quincy’s suggestion that Peter had the notion that, had he been a Catholic, he would have crossed himself.
“Forgive my curiosity,” Quincy said, placing a hand over his heart. “I’ve been in America half my life, you know, and I fear I’ve picked up some bizarre notions.” Here he laughed, and Mr. Tunley joined in. “And now we must be off,” Quincy continued, holding out a hand to the man, who shook it firmly. “So sorry again about your sheep.”
“Not at all, sir. They need a good scare now and again. They get too lazy and fat otherwise.” He laughed heartily at that before turning to Peter. “Mr. Ashford, it’s been a pleasure, sir.”
Shaken, Peter merely nodded before turning his mount back around. He gave the animal its head, his own too full of what Mr. Tunley had said.
Quincy soon caught up to him. They rode in silence for a short time before Quincy said, his voice low, “Are you certain your memories of the duke are right?”
The myriad emotions that had been rattling and tumbling about in Peter’s head coalesced into pure anger. “You doubt me?” he snapped. “You think it’s all in my head, that I fabricated a reason to hate Dane, that thirteen years of my life have been wasted in wishing for revenge over something that never happened?”
“Gad, no,” Quincy said hastily, eyes wide. “But damn it, man, besides the mention of blackmail—which could be anything, for all we know—what we’ve heard so far doesn’t match up to the bastard that turned you away. And not just from the tenants’ mouths, either. The land is fertile, the houses clean and in good repair. That’s not typically a sign of a cruel man who does not take care of what’s his. Do you wonder at me questioning it?”
No, Peter thought grudgingly, he could not. For if their positions had been reversed, Peter would have questioned it as well.
“Despite all that, however,” Quincy continued, eyeing Peter as their horses picked their way through a small copse of trees, “there is another far more pressing concern. If you go through with your plans to destroy the duke’s title and lands after his death, you realize you will impact all the families we’ve met today, as well as countless others.”
The fact that Quincy’s words so closely mirrored his own tumultuous thoughts did not help Peter’s peace of mind in the slightest. “I’d hoped to persuade the tenants to leave Danesford.”
“With what, money?”
“Most men can be persuaded to do any number of things for money.”
“Perhaps,” Quincy allowed. “But there was a pride in the people we’ve met today. What if they refuse?”
Peter ground his back teeth together. “When the time comes, they will see what benefits them, and act accordingly.”
Quincy gave a humorless chuckle. “I don’t think it will be as easy as you hope.”
Nor do I.
***
As far as dinner parties went, Lenora thought, tonight’s was fairly tame. A dozen of Lady Tesh’s closest friends were clustered about before the meal, talking quietly. It was nothing like London, where the guests outdid one another in dress and manners, where the assembled watched carefully for any perceived slipup to be reported to the rest of theton. The whole affair was pleasant in the extreme, a gathering of people who were both kind and familiar.
Lenora eyed Mr. Ashford across Lady Tesh’s vast drawing room. If one went purely by that man’s face, however, one would think they were all being roasted alive. While having their toes cut off. While being stung by a swarm of bees.
