Several of the men nodded quickly, led by Barker and Fitzgerald. Having worked with him for many years, they knew that Adrian was a man of his word. He didn’t give idle threats. His reputation preceded him. Yet, there were still a few who nodded slowly. Reluctantly. These were some of the men who were afraid to part with their money, and it showed on their big rings and ostentatious clothes.
One man who was seated at nearly the opposite end of the table seemed especially prepared to defend his actions.
His face was red, and he dared protest the Duke’s declaration. “Your Grace.” He stood and leveled a gaze at Adrian that spoke of his discontent. “I cannot possibly be blamed for my workers’ inability to meet what was required of them. They should not be paid what they do not deserve.”
“Cannot be blamed?” Adrian echoed in a low voice. He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at the man. “Should I then bring your accounts to the magistrate, sir? Your good profit would certainly interest him. Were you able to achieve such numbers without your workers? Or perhaps I should turn your ledgers over to the people. I will leave justice in their hands. It would be interesting to see what they’d do to you.”
The man opened his mouth. Then, he closed it. At this point, he probably realized that he was dealing with a Duke who didn’t jest about such things.
“Good,” Adrian remarked, rising from his chair. He used his height to cast a deeper shadow not just over the table but also over the men gawking at him. “I see that we finally understand each other.”
The men in attendance rose quickly, as if ready to escape. It was a wonder how a few minutes had changed their demeanor. They seemed so eager to meet with the Duke and earn his appreciation moments ago.
Chairs scraped and footsteps shuffled on the way out, as some whispered fearfully about “the Wolf,” who had somehow come to guard the villages.
Adrian didn’t linger either, slipping quietly out the inn’s back door.
The cool night air hit him like a wave, a stark contrast to the warmth inside. He drew his coat tighter around his shoulders and set off along the familiar path toward the estate.
Walking alone was nothing new; he had never felt the need for companionship and he was hardly afraid of his own countryside.
The darkness usually guided him more by memory than sight, each twist and turn familiar beneath his feet. Nobody traveled this way at such an hour, so he was startled when something—or someone—bumped into him.
At first, he noticed the details before the whole picture registered: a basket wobbling precariously in a pair of hands, its contents sloshing almost to the brink, and a soft gasp. A feminine gasp.
“Whoa there,” he drawled, instinctively reaching out to steady the stranger.
He hadn’t expected anyone on this path, let alone a young woman he didn’t know, carrying a basket in the middle of the night.
Where had she come from? Where was she going?
“Careful, miss,” he warned as the figure’s hooded form became clearer. A smirk tugged at his lips. “You ought not be out at this time of night, wandering alone. It is not a good time for foraging.” He nodded to the basket in her hands.
The hooded woman tilted up her chin at that remark, as if she was startled. In that moment, he glimpsed a heart-shaped face, flushing pink even in the dim lantern light.
“Pardon me, sir,” she mumbled, as she straightened her basket.
She bent her knees in a quick curtsy, but just as abruptly stopped, as though she reconsidered halfway through the gesture.
Certainly intriguing.
Adrian’s brow lifted at the whole scenario.
A pretty, unmarred, and clean face. A polished accent. A quick curtsy.
What do we have here?
If he was right, the woman before him was no village girl.
Before he could ask her more questions, she quickly rushed away from him, holding on to her basket as if for dear life or, God forbid, he might think of stealing it.
Adrian had never seen quite a reaction from any woman before. Women generally rushed to him, not the other way around. Amused, he sent another long glance after her and watched as she raced toward an overgrown bit of shrubbery.
He shook his head and followed his path once more.
As if by destiny, moments later, he spotted the same young woman again, further up on the path. He slowed his progress so that she might cross in front of him. For a few paces, they continued in this fashion, with her stepping carefully over fallen tree branches and him following in her wake.
Then, the lady glanced back at him and her hood slipped from around her head altogether.
