Page 514 of From Rakes to Riches

“Notice any chafing when you groomed him?”

“None.”

Gem had retreated to his monosyllabic answers.

“And you?”

A few ticks of time beat by as Gem made his peace with the fact that a one-syllable response wouldn’t suffice. “What about me?”

“Is the saddle properly fitted to you? To your—” Rake stopped himself right there.

Bottom.

That was the word he’d bitten back and the horrified look on Gem’s face said he knew it.

Fetching.

That was the adjective his mind had supplied yesterday in regard to Gem’s bottom.

He didn’t want to discuss Gem’s bottom, but here they were.

He’d only brought this on himself.

“My,erm,” Gem struggled out. “Well,erm, all was satisfactory.”

“Right,” said Rake, relieved, and he resumed hacking the stubble off his face. “Anyway, I think a lighter saddle would be the thing.”

Not ten seconds passed before Gem said, “Is that all?”

“One moment.” Rake took one final swipe with the straightedge, set it down, and wiped the steamy washcloth across cheeks, chin, and neck. That was as good as it was going to get.

He turned to find Gem edging toward the open doorway.

It wasn’t all, in fact.

They hadn’t yet broached the topic Rake wanted to discuss.

“You say you grew up on a lord’s estate?” he asked without preamble. He wanted to gauge Gem’s reaction directly. Questions about his past had the effect of throwing the lad off balance.

And this question was no different, for his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he gave a tight nod.

Good.

Rake pressed on. “What I can’t understand is why you would leave your place at a lord’s estate to seek work at The Drunken Piebald.”

Gem opened his mouth, surely to defend himself, but no sound emerged.

Rake sensed he was on the correct track. “The lord surely would’ve been keen to keep a lad such as yourself in his stables. With your knowledge and the genuine care you show horses, you would’ve made head groom within the decade.” He cocked his head. “Were you sacked?”

A curt shake of the head was his only answer.

“And yet…”

He made Gem wait for his next words. The lad’s nerves hadn’t eased one bit, his gaze still unable to settle, stealing up and down Rake’s person—mostly his bare chest. With the five or so pounds of dirt encrusting every visible inch of him, perhaps Gem had never seen clean flesh. Perhaps it was cleanliness itself that made Gem anxious.

“You walked away,” finished Rake.

Emotion flashed behind Gem’s gold-flecked, green eyes, and his mouth twitched.

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