Page 69 of Earl on the Run (The Duke's Estates 2)

“Mistress Elenasaid.”

There were murmurings among the other children. The Travelers did not question Mistress Elena’s decrees. Jack felt again his separation from these people, a sad loss. “What are you playing?” he asked.

“Pirates,” replied Samia.

“Don’t pirates need a sailing ship?”

“Up in the trees sways just like a ship,” she informed him.

“Got a real crow’s nest,” said one of the smallest boys. “With crows.”

“Ah.” It was a clever idea. No doubt Samia had come up with it. She had a vivid imagination.

“You going to the camp?” the little girl asked him.

“No, I am on my way to Winstead Hall. That’s the house…”

“Over yonder.” She pointed in the right direction.

“Yes. I’m calling on Miss Finch. We’re going to be married.” He wasn’t certain why he added that bit of information. Perhaps he just liked saying it aloud.

“Today?” asked Samia.

“No. Soon.” Jack resumed his walk. The children tagged along at his heels.

“Can I come to the wedding?” Samia bounced at his side, occasionally beheading a weed with her wooden scimitar.

“Yes,” said Jack. Harriet’s grandfather wouldn’t approve, but it was his wedding, and he would invite whomever he liked.

The unruly group came out of the woods into a meadow. A burly man rose from a stone where he’d been sitting and waved a quarterstaff. “You rabble keep away from here!” he shouted.

The children slid to a stop, then melted back into the trees. Annoyed that he’d forgotten Winstead’s border guards, Jack walked on.

“No comin’ through here,” the man declared.

Jack was wearing clothes tailored for a duke. He was on land he owned. He summoned his father’s haughtiest accent and kept moving. “I am Lord Ferrington,” he said. “I’m on my way to call at Winstead Hall.”

The guard squinted at him. “Ain’t I seen you about here before? Dressed different?”

“I arrived at Ferrington Hall only recently.” Neither an answer nor a lie, Jack thought as he approached the man’s station. His father had been expert at that sort of response, providing no information in a supercilious tone. Jack tried to mimic one of his expressions as well—serene confidence that no one would think of questioning his wishes.

The man lowered his staff and stepped back.

A spot between Jack’s shoulder blades itched as he passed by and walked on. But no blow came. He’d cowed the fellow. He supposed that was a triumph, but he didn’t much care for the feeling.

The servant who opened the front door at Winstead Hall was far more welcoming. He ushered Jack in with a bow and held out a hand.

Did he want a tip just for admitting him?

“May I take your hat, my lord?” the footman said.

“No. Miss Finch and I are going to walk in the garden. If she is free, I mean.”

It seemed his new status was known to the household, because there was no nonsense about inquiring whether the ladies were at home. The servant took him directly to a small parlor at the back of the house where Harriet and her mother sat. The latter seemed delighted to see him. His fiancée less so.

“I thought we might walk in the garden,” he said to Harriet when he had made his bow.

“Perhaps you would care to talk to my mother?” She looked severe. He seemed to have a special knack for making her do so.

---