Page 67 of Gambling with the Earl
Guy motioned with his arms and pulled his face into a neutral expression, even as his heart sank. “Of course.”
The marshal hesitated, glancing around the room to ensure they were alone. “It has not always been easy to find men willing to work at Rossfarne Castle, not locally anyway.” He dampened his lips with his tongue.
Guy felt a surge of impatience. “You mean, because of the old earl? Speak freely, man.”
A tremor passed through the marshal’s features, but he stood his ground. “Very good, my lord. Yes, because of the old earl. He was not well-liked, hereabouts.”
“I should say that’s the least of it,” Guy interjected, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair.
The marshal nodded again. “But I believe the situation is beginning to change. Slowly. At least, with one exception.” He ground to a halt and the silence grew heavy between them, broken only by the mournful crying of gulls outside.
Guy took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm. He wanted to provide steady employment for those who had served him reliably. Therefore, he must listen to their concerns.
“Are you going to tell me what this one exception is?”
“The villagers speak of a young woman.” He shifted uncomfortably and fixed his gaze on the window behind Guy. “A Miss Katherine Alden.”
Kitty. It could only be Kitty. Guy gripped the arms of his chair to steady himself.
“I have never heard that name,” he said truthfully, though a memory tore at his heart. Kitty, enfolded in his travelling cloak, the folds of fabric swamping her, lifting her chin to meet his eye with steady composure.“My name is not really Kitty. It is Katherine.”
“No, my lord.” The marshal’s words brought him back to the solar.
“Who is she?” Guy demanded, more harshly than he’d intended.
The marshal looked hot and uncomfortable, though he stood with a straight back and his arms smartly by his sides. “Her mother was a noblewoman. Her father, less well born. But the family is well known hereabouts, and various rumours are circulating.”
Guy raised an eyebrow as a chill of apprehension twisted in his stomach. “Rumours?” His voice was icy.
“They say that Miss Katherine is here.” The marshal looked embarrassed.
Guy steadied himself. He must dissipate this speculation, for Kitty’s sake more than his own. Heaven knows, he had no desire to see her reputation spoiled.
“I do not believe I have ever been introduced to a Miss Katherine Alden,” he said slowly, gathering his thoughts. “But I may know where these rumours have sprung from. Did I perhaps meet the young lady’s father in the alehouse?”
The marshal looked faint with nerves. “That is what I have heard.”
Guy waved his hand, aiming for nonchalance. “A most unfortunate encounter. But one which, thankfully, held no repercussions. The man was a drunkard. A scoundrel no less.”
“Oh, yes, my lord,” the marshal interrupted in his eagerness to agree. “He has now been chased out of Rossfarne.”
“Is that so?” Guy took a breath.Did that leave Kitty without a protector?The idea brought him up short, before he came to the realisation that Owain could hardly have been described as such. No doubt Kitty was better off without him. And hadn’t she proved that she could look after herself well enough? He shook away his concerns. Kitty’s reputation had rested briefly in his hands, but her future wellbeing was not his responsibility. “Both the family’s jewels and the family’s daughter are safe and wellin the family home.” He cleared his throat. “To the best of my knowledge.”
The marshal heaved a sigh of relief and widened his stance. “That will make recruiting the new men easier, my lord.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Guy tightened his lips. What would these new men say if they knew the truth, that Miss Katherine Alden had gained entry to his castle and his heart through dishonest means?
That he was the victim here?
The marshal bowed his farewell. Guy waited until his footsteps had faded from the great hall before allowing his anger to surface.
“Damn it all,” he swore, bringing his fist down heavily onto his desk and making the ink splatter onto the king’s summons.
Never lower your guard.
It pained him to think it, but his father had been right all along. He would batten down the hatches. Bolt all the doors. Shore up his heart in the way that Rossfarne Castle would soon be closed to intruders. No one allowed in. Nothing allowed out.
He rose to his feet, too frustrated to sit still at a desk. His whole being coursed with impatience. He had lingered too long in Rossfarne, allowing the sunlight to shine into all the cracks and crevices he usually kept hidden. It was time to be gone.
