Bran should have known better than to respond with a platitude.
The truth was Rakesley had offered a career path that Bran had already begun to see as viable.
The truth was he felt inclined to accept the offer.
But he needed to consider it from every angle.
Artemis was one of those angles.
She had yet more to say on the subject. “Rake offered because he thinks you’re the best trainer in England.” They took a few more steps. “And I agree with him.”
It had never been Bran’s way to give much credence to praise. But praise from Artemis …
That was different.
It meant something.
It meant too much.
In fact, it meant so much that he needed to change the subject. “How was London?”
Her eyebrows creased together. “London is still very much London.”
He nodded and didn’t point out that she’d said little and what she had said was a load of nothing. It was the shift in her mood that had him holding his tongue and waiting for her to continue.
“I saw my mother,” she said, at last.
It was as if a bolt of lightning had struck through Bran, jittering his veins, parching his mouth. Somehow, he managed, “I hope you found her well.”
Though they were the expected words, it took everything inside him to speak them.
“Oh, yes,” said Artemis, “Mother is always well.”
Bran felt his brow gather. An edge of acid ran alongside those lightly spoken words.
A hesitation, then she continued. “I spoke to her.”
Ah.
“She confessed all.”
“Did she now?”
Somehow, he doubted it.
The duchess held to a set of values very much of her own making.
Artemis inhaled deeply, as if she were squaring up to what must be said. “She admitted to offering you the twenty thousand pounds.”
“And that I refused it?”
That was important.
Artemis glanced away and nodded, her inner turmoil apparent. As someone who thought the best of both complete strangers and the people she loved, this lie would be difficult for her to reconcile.
Yet he sensed something more—something left unspoken.
“Oh!” she exclaimed and stopped suddenly in her tracks. “I seem to have become stuck.”
