Page 612 of From Rakes to Riches

A laugh, bitter and hard, erupted from the firm line of his mouth. “Ah, Gem, ever the honest lad.” The ugly laugh fell away, and Gemma was glad for the small mercy. “Except that isn’t true, is it?”

Gemma possessed enough good sense to stay quiet—even as parts of her clamored to be heard.

Clamored to say there were truths about her that only he knew—that only they knew about each other.

But the time had passed for those truths to be expressed.

In reality, that time had never existed.

“I finally beheld the notorious Lord Devil.”

Gemma braced herself.

“Except that isn’t quite true, is it? Because I saw him last night.” A beat. “With you.”

“Aye.”

“Funny you didn’t mention his name then,” said Rake, conversationally. “It’s almost as if you were hiding something.”

Oh, Rake was good and het up. A fact he wasn’t trying to hide. And what she would say next would only make him more so.

“You didn’t need to know.”

His black eyebrows lifted, incredulous. “You certainly don’t lack for audacity,” he scoffed, half admiringly.

After so much secret keeping, the time for the whole truth had arrived. “My work for Deverill is finished. I met with him last night for payment.”

“And, presumably, your work for Deverill was to spy onme.”

“Notyou.” Gemma wanted this to be clear. “Your stable operation.”

It had been a vital distinction in her mind—and still was. Not that she expected the angry man seated across from her to see or understand.

He shifted forward, forearm braced against muscled thigh. “And what did Deverill receive for his blunt?” he asked, each word a sharp point designed to inflict pain. “Does he know the lengths to which hisstable ladwent to secure information?”

Sudden anger sparked through Gemma. Her back went rigid with indignation, and she instantly regretted it, grimacing against its protest. “Are you…are you…” she stammered. “Are you calling me a doxy?”

Rake’s eyes became glittering black diamonds. “If the word fits.”

He was wounded, and he was out to wound. Horses in pain struck out thusly. Though Gemma understood, she still felt the pain inflicted. “You know that wasn’t how it is…was…between us.”

He wouldn’t relent. “I know nothing.”

“Then know this, Your Grace.” She spoke the last two words with particular emphasis. “Year after year, I watched my mother work herself to the bone for a man who gave her no choice but to be his chattel. That was how he treated her. How he treated Liam and me.” A beat. “It’s something you can’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand betrayal quite well.”

Clearly, her words had not penetrated one bit.

Gemma felt her anger double in force. “Because a woman who didn’t love you in the first place left you for another man?” she scoffed.

He went very still.

“Confess, Your Grace,” she charged on, heedless around a blind bend. “You didn’t truly love her either. It was your pride that was wounded all those years ago—not your heart.”

“You know nothing of my heart.”

She knew there was now a fortress around it that would remain forever impenetrable.

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