Page 29 of The Duke of Lies
Kit went to the gate and held it open for Romsey. Racer made a dash for the opening, but Kit snapped it closed before he could make it through. With a disappointed bleat, Racer rejoined his group. Kit checked the latch to make sure it would hold. He’d built it to be extra strong given Racer’s penchant for breaking free.
“Seems like you expected him to try to escape,” Romsey observed.
“Always. But he’s got a good personality.”
Romsey swung his head to look at Kit in disbelief. “A goat has a personality?”
“As much as a dog or a cat or a horse.”
“I suppose that makes sense, although I’m not entirely convinced about cats. Theyhavepersonalities, but they’re enigmatic as hell.”
“They can be,” Kit agreed. “Whiskers is quite fun. He even plays fetch with Beau.”
“Indeed? I’ll need to see that to believe it. That boy has quite a menagerie. Are you sure there’s room for guests?”
Kit laughed. “For now, but he does seem to collect animals at an alarming rate. He has a very kind and inquisitive heart. He’s learning how to care for the goats. Tomorrow, I’ll show him how to milk one.”
“You’llshow him?” Romsey asked. “You know how to milk a goat?”
As they entered the lower courtyard, Kit nodded.
Romsey narrowed his eyes at him. “And you built that pen and shed.” Whist had told the duke and duchess about that earlier.
“I did.” Kit was well used to people’s shock, although the tenants no longer demonstrated any surprise. They’d quite accepted him for who he was. Rather, who he was pretending to be. Except that person—at least his character—was really who he was.
What a bloody tangle.
“Did you know all that before you disappeared, or did you spend the last six years herding goats?”
Kit looked over at him, trying to ascertain if he was speaking in jest. He wasn’t entirely sure. “I spent most of the last six and a half years on a boat.”
“So I heard. I was joking about the goats. I presume you were active in the management of the estate before you went missing.”
“Actually, I’ve learned about goats since returning. Beau took an interest in them.” Kit didn’t feel the need to defend himself, but neither did he want Romsey asking awkward questions. Best to allay the man’s curiosity, and Kit hoped that was all this was, straightaway.
“Well, it’s damned impressive,” Romsey said as they walked up the steps toward the upper gatehouse. “I imagine it’s been strange being back.”
Strange, challenging, wonderful. “It’s been an adjustment.”
“Were you surprised to come home to find a son? Diana said you disappeared before you knew Verity was expecting.”
Kit shot a quick look toward Romsey. He called her Verity? Kit wanted to call her Verity. Now that he knew her name. But he wouldn’t ask. The parameters of their relationship were clear, and such familiarity wasn’t part of it. Instead, he focused his mind on the relationship that had no limits and that had completely overwhelmed him in ways he’d never expected. “Coming home to Beau has been a true joy,” he said, meaning every word.
Romsey peered over at him as they moved through the upper gate. “Is it painful to think of the years you missed with him? I imagine it would be.” He said this with an understanding that led Kit to believe this man knew something of loss.
“I try not to think about that,” Kit said. In truth, what he tried not to think of were the years he’d miss after he was gone. In scarcely a fortnight, he’d become rather attached to the boy, and he wasn’t ready to contemplate leaving him.
“Probably for the best. It doesn’t help to focus on the past. Still, six and a half years is a long time. Verity says you were pressed onto a ship. How did you manage to survive that? Not just survive it, but come out seemingly the better for it.”
He already knew that Kit’s behavior was different? Had Verity written to them about him or told them in the stable yard? Kit had watched them talking, aware they were discussing him from the way they kept looking in his direction.
Kit resisted the urge to ignore Romsey’s question as they walked through the upper courtyard to the back of the castle. “You just…survive.”
They paused in front of the wide door that led into the King’s Hall, and Romsey nodded in understanding. “You do. And maybe, if you’re lucky, you come out better on the other side. Seems as though that’s what happened to you. That’s certainly what happened to me—and I credit Diana for that.”
Kit seized on the opportunity to shift the focus of their conversation. “What did you survive?” He opened the door and gestured for Romsey to precede him.
Romsey grimaced. “It’s a fairly depressing topic. I was married before, and she died. It was a tragedy, and I feared I would never recover.”
