She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Lovely to look at, but I’ve heard hard to maintain.”
“Perhaps, but worth the difficulty, as are most things worth having,” he said. His gaze settled on her for a brief moment, and she found herself wondering if they were still discussing flowers at all.
“You are likely right,” she said. “I just haven’t had the patience, perhaps, to learn to cultivate them properly. Your military discipline might help.”
He considered that. “I suppose so. I wasn’t as interested in flowers before I came home from the war, so you might be right. It is a fascinating thought I’ll have to ponder more.”
“I suppose after such a dangerous experience, it must be comforting to find something to fill your time,” she said, careful not to reveal that she knew his true reason for being here. After all, she didn’t know if Derrick had revealed her interference. The last thing she needed was to pivot Barber’s attention more fully on her.
“Some men struggle to do so,” he said, and his expression grew worried. “Some men lose themselves in drink or work and forget to make a life beyond their memories.”
She frowned. “You sound as though you’re talking about someone specific.”
His gaze darted to her. “Perhaps I am. Or perhaps I’m thinking of a dozen friends.”
“Is Derrick Huntington one of them?” she asked.
Now he stopped on the path and pivoted to look at her fully. His eyebrow arched. “I suppose after what we went through together, how close we have become as friends, as brothers, that I can’t help but worry about him. Especially now.”
She pursed her lips. “You are bringing this up to me and there seems to be a purpose behind it.”
“You and he have been spending a bit of time together since our arrival,” Barber said. “I think you may be…you might be learning about all of his excellent qualities.”
“Yes,” she said softly, because there was no use denying those facts. This man knew what he was talking about, and if it were only fears about Derrick that drove him to approach her, addressing them would send him away. Distract him from equating the Fox with herself.
And truth be told, she also wanted to see where he was going with this interrogation regarding Derrick. She wanted to know more from the facts he was carefully sprinkling at her feet.
“Does that worry you?” she asked, and tried to make her tone light and playful. “Are you here to ask me my intentions when it comes to your friend?”
He smiled at that quip, but his tone was still serious when he said, “It may not be my place, he might even be angry at me for doing it, but I am the closest thing to family the man has left. So I suppose yes, I am concerned about your intentions. Are you coming to Derrick in a real interest? Or are you a bored Society lass, interesting in slumming with a man you see beneath you? Because Huntington doesn’t deserve to be used.”
She flinched at the question and set her jaw. “I know you are a very intelligent man. I know you know about me, because I don’t think you’d approach me without having at least ten moves planned out in this little chess match we’ve begun. So you must know, as everyone knows, that the last thing I am is a Society lass, bored or otherwise. I’m just a duke’s bastard sister, Mr. Barber, brought here to assuage some guilt Robert has about the disparity of our upbringing. Or perhaps in some foolish attempt to match me with a man of substance, because my other half-brother recently married after receiving Robert’s assistance.”
She stopped talking because she realized she was rambling and giving out information she hadn’t meant to share. Barber was quiet as she turned away, heat burning her cheeks, and stared at the fountain a few paces away along the pathway. She gathered herself and dared to look at him again. His expression was impassive.
“I suppose what I’m trying to say is that I know Huntington doesn’t deserve to be used.” She took a long breath. “He seems to be an honorable man.”
“He is,” Barber said softly, and then he took a step toward her. “As is your brother, Nicholas Gillingham.”
She froze at the mention of Nicholas. She’d already slightly explored the connection between the men with Derrick, but Barber knew her brother, too. “You served with him,” she said.
Barber nodded. “It was my great honor, yes.”
She shifted. “And you said you and Derrick—Mr. Huntington—were among those with him when he was injured.”
“Yes.” Barber’s expression went far away. “Our commander was a useless man, too important to make good tactical decisions. He set up camp in an area too exposed, near volatile munitions. Gillingham had no faith in him and saw the intense danger. He took over operations and moved the lot of us before there was an explosion. He was badly injured, as were a good many of us. Despite his own injuries, Derrick was the first man at his side. Your brother saved us. And Derrick saved him, in turn.”
She could feel the blood draining from her cheeks with every word. Nicholas had been so close-lipped about the cause of his injuries. She knew he was being considered for a title, thanks to his saving of the very commander Barber maligned, the son of a viscount who was a close friend to Prinny.
“Derrick saved my brother,” she whispered, and tears stung her eyes.
Barber nodded. “So you can see why I am protective of the man.”
“Yes,” she pushed out past pursed lips. “I knew you two served with Nicholas. I-I didn’t know about the rest.”
Barber shrugged one shoulder. “Huntington doesn’t celebrate himself. It’s not his way. But now you know, so you’ll do with that information what you will.”
She glanced up at the house, knowing Derrick was in there somewhere. Knowing that she needed to go to him, as soon as possible and just…she didn’t know what. Talk to him? Touch him and have it be unrelated to the Fox or his case? Just see him?
