Page 78 of The Lost Duke of Wyndham

“How is that possible?”

She smiled at that, the sort of smile that was almost a laugh. “It wasn’t so much that they weren’t interested, just that they were interested in other things more. I think that above all they would have loved to travel. Both of them adored maps and atlases of all sorts.”

Jack felt his eyes roll up at that. “I hate maps.”

“Really?” She sounded stunned, and maybe just a little bit delighted by his admission. “Why?”

He told her the truth. “I haven’t the talent for reading them.”

“And you, a highwayman.”

“What has that to do with it?”

“Don’t you need to know where you’re going?”

“Not nearly so much as I need to know where I’ve been.” She looked perplexed at that, so he added, “There are certain areas of the country—possibly all of Kent, to be honest—it is best that I avoid.”

“This is one of those moments,” she said, blinking several times in rapid succession, “when I am not quite certain if you are being serious.”

“Oh, very much so,” he told her, almost cheerfully. “Except perhaps for the bit about Kent.”

She looked at him in incomprehension.

“I might have been understating.”

“Understating,” she echoed.

“There’s a reason I avoid the South.”

“Good heavens.”

It was such a ladylike utterance. He almost laughed.

“I don’t think I have ever known a man who would admit to being a poor reader of maps,” she said once she regained her composure.

He let his gaze grow warm, then hot. “I told you I was special.”

“Oh, stop.” She wasn’t looking at him, not directly, at least, and so she did not see his change of expression. Which probably explained why her tone remained so bright and brisk as she said, “I must say, it does complicate matters. The dowager asked me to find you so that you could aid with our routing once we disembark in Dublin.”

He waved a hand. “That I can do.”

“Without a map?”

“We went frequently during my school days.”

She looked up and smiled, almost nostalgically, as if she could see into his memories. “I’d wager you were not the head boy.”

He lifted a brow. “Do you know, I think most people would consider that an insult.”

Her lips curved and her eyes glowed with mischief. “Oh, but not you.”

She was right, of course, not that he was going to let her know it. “And why would you think that?”

“You would never want to be head boy.”

“Too much responsibility?” he murmured, wondering if that was what she thought of him.

She opened her mouth, and he realized that she’d been about to say yes. Her cheeks turned a bit pink, and she looked away for a moment before answering. “You are too much of a rebel,” she answered. “You would not wish to be aligned with the administration.”

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