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“That’s good then.”
“Very fortunate for you.” The man included the whole group in his glance. “But I find it strange that the earl, who remains missing, knew to write it. How did he learn of your situation?”
Jack went so far as to scratch his head and say, “Huh.”
The damned duke laughed. “You said you were called Jack the Rogue.”
“Aye.”
“Jack is sometimes used as a diminutive for Jonathan, is it not?”
“Dim…what? That’s a great long word, that is. Yer Honor.”
One of the Travelers snickered, which didn’t help matters. This duke threw him a sardonic glance. He was not behaving as Jack expected.
“You don’t quite fit here, do you?”
Exasperation threatened to divert Jack. These English were so obsessed with fitting in—dressing a certain way, speaking in the right accent, behaving along rigid lines. They tried to define a man by externals, even if those had nothing to do with him.
“The Travelers have a kind of family resemblance,” the duke went on. “Which you don’t really share.”
In other words, he belonged nowhere, Jack thought. He knew that. He didn’t need to be told.
“And your accent is…unreliable.”
“I speak as I can. Yer Honor.”
“Or perhaps I should saycreative,” the duke continued. “It wavers, creatively, from country to country and into the realms of fiction.”
“I don’t know what Your Honor means by that.” Jack struggled with his temper. He longed to wipe the smug arrogance off the fellow’s face with a solid punch.
“I mean that you are not the dolt you pretend to be,” answered the duke crisply.
“Dolt, is it? Eh, that’s not kind.”
“I saidnot.” The intruder raked him with a look. “What is your surname, Jack the Rogue?”
“Surname?” Jack needed a way to put him off once and for all. But he came up with none. “That would be…”
“The family name you were born with.”
“Oh, that was long ago.”
“Twenty-four years, perhaps? I suspect it is Merrill and that you are the ‘missing’ Earl of Ferrington.”
“Why would you think such a daft thing as that?”
The duke began to tick off points on his aristocratic fingers. “You are not a true member of this camp. There is a whole different feel about you. You match the description I was given of the earl, though I admit it was vague. Your accent and rustic act are very unconvincing. You are perfectly placed to have written that letter of permission. And finally, I am aware the missing earl’s mother was connected with the Travelers, so he—you—might well be accepted here.”
Jack gritted his teeth. That last bit of knowledge had no doubt come from his great-grandmother and been put in the worst possible light. As if he would ever be ashamed of his mother!
“Do you swear to me that you arenotJonathan Frederick Merrill?” the duke asked.
Jack was tempted. He owed this arrogant nobleman nothing.
“If you give me your word of honor, of course, I will accept that,” the man added.
He spoke without condescension, as if honor was a concept that applied to them both equally. Which made it impossible for Jack to lie. “Damn you,” he said.
