Page 589 of From Rakes to Riches

“In the general sense,” said Gemma, “people believe what you present them.”

Not the Duke of Rakesley, though, she left off. She’d never told Liam that Rake had seen through her disguise—or what had followed.

Her brother didn’t need to know all that.

Anyway, why was she arguing with Deverill?

Habit, she supposed. Really, all she wanted from him was payment for services rendered and never to see him again.

“Dirt helps,” she added.

Deverill pursed that pretty mouth of his and nodded, allowing it.

“It’s what people fix on.”

“Even so, Rakesley must be a fool,” said Deverill, unbothered by the fact. “Like most nobs.” He took a long pull from his ale.

Gemma slid a glance toward Liam. She only now noticed he was avoiding her eye. Something was happening beneath the surface here…

Deverill swiped foam from his upper lip. “A stroke of good luck that he made you jockey for Hannibal.”

Gemma wouldn’t have gone so far as to say that.

Deverill’s gaze narrowed on her. “And tomorrow…”

“Tomorrow?” Gemma’s hackles rose. Here it was. The something she’d sensed. “For us, there is no tomorrow. I’ve done all you asked by reporting back on the operation at Somerton.”

“You have, but?—”

She shifted forward and planted her forefinger into the center of the table. “I’ve earned the money promised.”

What if…What if he decided to walk away without paying? What sort of recourse did she and Liam have?

The answer was easy.

None.

Still, Liam wouldn’t meet her gaze.

“But what I’m wondering is…” Deverill refused to release her gaze. “Would you like to earn more?”

Liam shifted in his chair. He had the look of a brother who knew his sister wouldn’t like what she was about to hear.

“And how exactly would I go about earningmore?” she asked, low, a feeling of dread snaking through her.

Deverill shrugged a shoulder. “A little clover mixed into a horse’s hay. That’s all. Nothing that would do lasting injury.”

Outrage surged through Gemma. “You want to best Rakesley so badly that you would have me harm Hannibal?”

Deverill looked genuinely taken aback. “What does this have to do with Rakesley?”

Gemma’s eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. “What hasn’t it to do with Rakesley?”

“Everything.”

“But Hannibal?—”

“Not Hannibal.”

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