The pure venom in his voice stopped Gemma in her tracks.Hal paused too, turning to face her questioningly.She studied him.“You know, for such a salt of the earth, man of the people type, you’re quite well spoken.I didn’t mark it at first, being distracted by your general aura of infuriatingness, but how exactly does a common laborer come to speak like an educated gentleman?”
His answering glance was opaque, and Gemma got the clear sense that he was deciding how much to tell her.“I had some education,” was his gruff admission.
The hint of mystery tugged at Gemma, begging to be unraveled, but she resisted.Hal’s background could not matter less.She had no business delving further.Especially since every new piece of information she uncovered only served to make the enigma of Hal Deveril even more appealing.
“You don’t need to tell me where you’re going,” Hal said abruptly, changing the subject.“I can guess.”
Recalled to her mission, Gemma started walking again, gritting her teeth against the pain in her feet.These shoes were designed for traipsing from the settee to the tea table, not a rugged ramble through the woods.
“Perhaps you were correct before,” she suggested, hopping lightly over a muddy patch.“Perhaps I’m here to visit the woodland creatures.”
“This path only leads to one place.You’re going to Kissington Manor.But you may as well turn around now and head back to the inn, because no matter what you hope to find up at the big house, you’re destined for disappointment.”
Gemma’s heart sank.Not that she’d truly expected it to be as simple as marrying the first wealthy aristocrat she came across, but it would have been nice.“Ah.So he’s married then.”
“Who?”
“The lord of the manor!”Gemma gesticulated up the hill, toward the still-unseen house.“He must be already wed, or else he’s an ogre of some kind.But what kind, is the question—there are certain types of ogre one might be willing to put up with, if the compensation were large enough.”
An odd look had come over Hal’s face.He smoothed a hand over his beard, as though wiping away a bemused smile.“He’s not married, and not much more of an ogre than most men, I reckon.”
Interest sparked in Gemma’s blood.She felt like a hunting dog catching the scent of a rabbit.“What’s his name?Perhaps I know him already.”
Hal cleared his throat, but his voice still came out a bit choked.“John Montrose.Eighth Duke of Havilocke.”
“But that’s tremendous!I do know the Montroses!”Gemma exclaimed.“I met—I suppose it must be the previous Duke of Havilocke, at Lord Denbigh’s country house party several years ago.He had a bit of a reputation for pinching the serving girls, and anyone else who got too close to him, if I remember correctly.And his duchess, oof.Very haughty for a lady who was rumored to have more lovers than her rakehell of a husband.My friends and I avoided them both like the plague, and then I remember hearing recently that they died of some sort of fever or something, one right after the other.So the new duke must be the younger brother!How marvelous!”
“Don’t get too excited,” Hal cautioned her as the trees around them began to thin and the path meandered into a freshly turned field.“I told you to ready yourself for disappointment.”
“There is only so disappointing a duke can ever be,” Gemma quipped, shading her eyes against the mid-day sun to look for the house.
Beyond the fields stood yet more trees, but she could just about make out the sharp lines of a majestic roof and towers poking out over the top of the lush, leafy green.“And a young, unmarried duke?Practically a unicorn.I can’t wait to meet him.”
“That’s the disappointing part.He isn’t here.”
Gemma stopped walking.“Oh.Of course.Parliament is sitting, he must be in Town.”
Shrugging, Hal leaned a hip against a rough wooden fence post and said, “Couldn’t say.But the house is locked up tight, so you might as well?—”
“I’d still like to see it,” Gemma interrupted, making an abrupt decision.After all, she’d walked all this way already.“Is the house open to visitors?I shall apply to the housekeeper for a tour.”
Alarm flashed across his handsome features, there and gone again so quickly Gemma thought she might have imagined it.“No, the house isn’t open, and there’s no housekeeper either.”
“You know an awful lot about it,” Gemma observed, tilting her head to one side.“Now that I come to think of it, it’s something of an odd coincidence that you happened to come across me all the way up here.As you said, that path only leads to one place.What business would you have up at the manor house, if it’s all locked up and deserted?”
His brows lowered dangerously.“Are you accusing me of something?”
“I hardly know,” Gemma shot back, “But you must admit that a country barkeep being at all familiar with the movements of a duke is unusual, to say the least.”
Anger flashed in those green-gold eyes but his deep voice was even and calm.“I’m not stealing the silver, if that’s what you’re implying.You may check my pockets if you like.”
Gemma arched a brow, refusing to be embarrassed.“Then what are you doing up at the manor, if I may be so bold?”
He hesitated only for a moment.“I am…somewhat acquainted with the family.The duke attended Oxford, as did I.He asked me to keep an eye on the house while they’re away, so I live there as a sort of…caretaker.”
Absorbing this extraordinary tidbit, Gemma tapped a gloved finger against her lower lip.Oxford.Hal had gone to a top university and hobnobbed with dukes.
Shaking herself, Gemma attempted to focus on her present task.She could turn this situation to her advantage.Indeed, a fresh idea was already beginning to take shape in her mind.
