“But youcamehere for the inheritance!”
“I came here because Wynn invited me for a relaxing fortnight in the country,” Zeb said. “I thought I was going to get to know a family member who was less awful than the rest. Hah. It serves me right, agreeing to live and eat off Wyckham money. I should have turned down the invitation on that basis, and then I wouldn’t be in the worst house party since that one where they hosted the guests in an underground room and secretly bricked them in.”
Gideon was searching Zeb’s face, his light eyes intense. Zeb shifted under the scrutiny. “What is it?”
“Wynn told me you knew he intended to disinherit Bram and were expecting to be confirmed in his place. He said you and hehad been corresponding, that you needed the money urgently. And after your conversation yesterday, he said he expected you to propose to Jessamine within the week.”
“But he can’t possibly have thought that,” Zeb said blankly. “I specifically told him Iwouldn’tmarry her. As for the inheritance, I had no idea it was up for grabs until dinner the first night. I did tell him that it would be convenient for me to visit because I had lost my job and a friend could take my room—”
“You can’t afford your room?”
“Of course I can, but I’ve a pal coming down from Scotland for a couple of weeks, so we thought he could save on the cost of a hotel, and I could have my rent covered while I’m away. I dare say Wynn misunderstood that, and I will freely admit I told him I’ve been short of cash; I used that as an excuse not to come earlier. Maybe he got things confused. But he’s simply wrong about Jessamine.”
They started walking again, trudging along through rank, damp grass. Zeb didn’t care. He was walking with Gideon, and Gideon was actually listening to him, and he didn’t intend to stop for a little discomfort. He’d walk through a lake if he had to.
Gideon had a small frown on his face and his hands behind his back. He had used to pace like that at Cubitt’s when he was deep in thought. “Hawley is blackmailing you because he thinks you want Jessamine and the money. Have you explained to him why you don’t?”
“I have not, and I’m not going to.”
“Why not?”
“Because Hawley stains everything he touches,” Zeb said. “That conversation with Jerome was important. It meant something to me, and I am not going to repeat it to someone who would tell me I’m a fool for thinking it matters. I refuse to do that.”
“No,” Gideon said, his voice low. “No, you would not. I… God damn it, Zeb. I think I have been extremely unfair to you.”
It was a cold day. The Dartmoor wind had been cutting through Zeb’s coat for a while. His shoes were soaked through, his stockings wet, the bottoms of his trousers were slapping damply against his ankles, and now his entire body was suffused with a warm glow that went some way to counteracting the misery. “Well, yes, maybe. A bit.”
“I had entirely the wrong idea. And that’s because Wynn was mistaken, or deluded, in what he told me, but also…” He hesitated. “I think it was because of us. Because it was easier if I could think the worst of you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right.”
“It’s truly not. Thank you for talking to me, Zeb. I don’t know if I’d have bothered in your shoes.”
“Of course you would. In my shoes, I mean, not that you’d actually want to be in my shoes, they’re drenched.Thank you for listening. Might we do a bit better, then? Because the prospect of a fortnight here with you hating me is pretty awful, honestly.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“It feels like you hated me.”
“I—” Gideon began, and then stopped. There was a long,painful silence.
“I mean, you can,” Zeb said, when he could no longer stop himself filling it. “Hate me, that is. I quite see why you would. I just wish you didn’t.”
“I don’t,” Gideon said again. “I—God damn it. I have spent the last month hearing about your willingness to marry a stranger for a fortune, and yes, by the end of that I think I was coming to hate you, but that’s hardly your fault if it wasn’t true. Still, it raised a lot of other issues—memories, whatever you want to call it, and… Zeb, I need time to think about this. Could we leave it for now? Please?”
Zeb raised his hands and clamped his lips, biting them fiercely shut on the inside against the near-compulsion to speak, and the dozen things he wanted to say. He dug the sharp edges of the crucifix into his thumb as a distraction. They walked on.
After a few moments, Gideon let out a long breath. “Look. I truly don’t hate you. But I also don’t want to spend a fortnight with you, any more than I expect you want that with me. Not to mention you’re being blackmailed over an inheritance and marriage you don’t even want. It would be a great deal easier all round if you left.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not? What is there to gain by staying?”
Zeb wished he knew the answer to that. Or rather, he did know; he just wished it wasn’t a wispy impossibility. “Wynn asked me to stay.”
“What does that matter? Why should you indulge his absurd plans at our expense?”
“At—?”
