He gave a curt nod. As much as he wanted to leave it at that, he saw from the expectation on Artemis’s face that he wouldn’t be able to. “She’s a lady of nineteen years.”
Artemis blinked. “And?”
“She needs a London season.”
“What does that have to do with?—”
He saw no way out of this conversation other than through. “Sir Abstrupus has promised me the St. Leger purse if Radish wins.”
“Oh?” Her mouth turned down, and Bran’s gaze lingered there a little too long. “He doesn’t want the winnings for himself?”
Bran cleared his throat. “I believe bragging rights are what he’s after.”
Artemis nodded slowly, taking in his words and testing their veracity. “So, money.”
“Money?”
“That’s why you’re here.”
Actually, money wasn’t why he was here. He was here for Gwyneth—to see her future secured. Money’s only use, as far as he was concerned, was a means to that end.
But his reasons and motivations were none of Artemis’s concern.
They hadn’t been in years—ten, to be exact.
So, he allowed a partial lie to form in his mouth and said, “Yes.”
She snorted and shook her head. “It’s always about the money with you, no?”
He folded his arms across his chest and assessed the woman before him, as his military training had taught him to do in the face of a fierce adversary. “What do you mean?”
Nothing in his life had ever been about money. He’d never given a single toss for the accumulation of it. Which was why he’d sent the majority of his earnings home to family all those years—for his brother to gamble away and expose them all to the winds of ruin.
The furrow of Artemis’s eyebrows only deepened. “You know what I’m talking about."
Strangely, Bran wished he did.
But the fact remained … “I don’t.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
One moment, Artemis had a firm handle on the conversation.
And the next—now—she didn’t.
If she didn’t know any better, she would take Bran’s tone for one of righteousness, even the truth, for it had that ring to it. As did the clarity of his gold eyes.
The truth.
How could it be?
Ten years ago, he’d taken the £20,000 he’d demanded from Mother.
That was established fact.
Or was £20,000 nothing to him?
It was possible.
