Gemma drew back her shoulders and brightened her expression, making sure to pop the dimple in her left cheek that made it look as if she was in on the joke.“The first round is on the house, ladies and gent!After that, if you want to get sloshed, I’ll be happy to sell you the whole bottle.”
“Oh Gem,” Lady Rosalie squealed, her hand fluttering up to her white throat.“Are you truly…a barmaid now?”
Beside her, Henrietta’s watery blue eyes went wide with distress, but before she could faint dead away at the very idea, Gemma blithely corrected her friend.
“More like landlady.My dear father, the duke, left us this place and we were just so vastly entertained when we found out, weren’t we, Mama?What a lark!Well of course we had to come and take possession of the place in person.And now that we’re here, we’ve decided we quite like it.”
The ladies tittered while the Duke of Thornecliff glanced around the taproom.
“Indeed.”Thorne’s voice was as bland as blancmange, but there was a sharpness to his gaze that Gemma didn’t altogether like.“Singular.”
“Perhaps the place is a bit rough around the edges,” Gemma replied breezily, setting down glasses and pouring a generous round of Bess’s best cooking sherry.Lord help her.“But I think it’s got lots of potential.As an investment, you know.Ever so much more fun than investing in a canal or some such boring venture!But enough about us, tell me, what’s been happening in Town?”
“Yes!”Henrietta cried, leaning forward and setting all the jet beads lining her shawl to clicking and dancing in the candlelight.“Do tell me about the latest fashions.It seems an age since we were in London, I am longing to hear of home!”
Seeming reassured by Henrietta’s referring to London as home, Lady Rosalie and Lady Lavinia put their heads together with Henrietta and began some long, convoluted story about a mutual acquaintance who had shown up to the Marquess of Maverton’s ball in a French-inspired gown so daring, the hostess had fainted dead away.
“Here’s your whiskey,” Gemma told Thorne, pouring out a dram of the amber liquid.The scent of peat-smoke and burnt sugar wafted subtly from the glass as he raised it in an ironic toast to her.
“Well, well.Little Gem, still sparkling here amongst the dull dirt and dust of the countryside.And I do mean dull.”
The way he looked down his long, straight nose as he casually judged the other patrons of the public room made Gemma frown.Before she could give him a firm set down, however, his deep-set dark eyes fastened on something behind her—something that made his entire, lounging form go still for an instant, a predator catching sight of its prey.
“Hello,” he said softly, one long finger tracing the rim of his glass before lifting to crook in a come-hither motion.“What have we here?”
With an itch of premonition between her shoulder blades, Gemma turned to see Lucy standing in the shadows by the stairs, all her considerable focus trained on the Duke of Thornecliff.At his imperious gesture, she startled but moved closer at once.
Gemma stopped herself from blocking Lucy with her entire body, but only barely.Gritting her teeth, she curled her hands into fists at her sides and manufactured a polite expression.It must not have been terribly convincing, because Lucy took one glance at Gemma’s face and faltered, her steps slowing.
Thorne lifted his chin, his enigmatic gaze watchful.“Come here, mouse.Don’t be shy.”
Both sisters whipped around.
“Do not give my sister pet names, if you please!”
“I’m not shy!”
Thorne sank back into his chair like a crocodile lowering itself beneath the surface of the Nile, momentary interest in his surroundings already waning.Gemma felt a cool wash of relief.
“The sister, yes.Of course.”He yawned delicately, a tiger in the sun, the back of one graceful hand coming up to cover his mouth.“Isn’t it a bit late for her to be awake?Surely Nanny ought to come put her to bed soon.”
Thank heavens he’d decided to see Lucy as a child rather than a potential conquest.Over Lucy’s mortally offended gasp, Gemma said, “Quite right, Thorne.Pay the girl no mind, she is retiring momentarily.Have another drink.Or might I offer you a slice of chicken and leek pie?It’s really quite exceptional.”
“Oh.”The wide, mobile mouth pursed into an exaggerated moue of disgust.“I couldn’t possibly.”
“Watching your figure, are you?”Lucy stepped up beside Gemma, her nose in the air and red flags of emotional color flying high on her cheekbones.“I’ve noticed as men age, they begin to expand like hot air balloons.”
Gemma closed her eyes in despair.Lucy was trying to get under Thorne’s skin, to wound him as he’d wounded her with that remark about needing her nanny, but Thorne was impervious to insult.His arrogance and pride provided an armor that no sharp words could pierce.All that would happen now was…
“Oh, I like this one.”Thorne came to attention, eyes gleaming like black diamonds.He gave Lucy a slow smile.“Perhaps you are ready to join the adults, mouse.Come sit.”
Gemma caught Lucy by the arm before she could let fly with whatever response was causing her eyes to flash so dangerously.“That’s quite enough excitement for one evening, dearest, don’t you think?Mama is looking a bit peaked, I think twenty minutes of visiting has worn her out.Could you please take her upstairs and help her get settled?I would so appreciate it.”
That last was said through a clenched jaw, Gemma glaring daggers at her defiant sister until Lucy’s shoulders finally dropped in defeat.
“Fine,” she said, “I’ll go.Just promise me one thing, Gemma.Don’t marry this one.He might be a duke, but he’s not worth the trouble.”
Gemma wondered if it was possible for this night to get any more humiliating.She managed a surprised laugh.“Who, Thorne?Certainly not, Thorne will never marry.He’s declared it many times.”
