Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Right now, soaring through the stars above the city, miles from everything that could keep them apart . . . he was dangerously close to telling her so.
He was saved by a timely interruption.
“My weakness is dinner,” he said.
A parade of servants came through, bearing a table sized for two, chairs, a damask tablecloth, silver and china, candlesticks, crystal wineglasses, and trays loaded with divine-smelling food.
“My goodness.” She laughed. “Now that was quite the trick.”
“Impressed?” He held out her chair for her.
“Very.”
Gabe settled into his seat and poured her some wine before filling his own glass. “I instructed the chef to prepare you dishes without any meat. I hope they’re satisfactory.”
She uncovered a small tureen and dipped a spoon into the steaming contents. As she stirred, the scent of exotic spices wafted through the air. “Vegetable curry? It smells divine. I’m ravenous.”
Conversation was set aside by tacit agreement, as they both loaded their plates and tucked into their food.
Some minutes later, she sat back in her chair with a contented sigh, cradling her wineglass in one hand. “So tell me.”
He paused, fork halfway to his mouth. “Tell you what?”
She shrugged. “Everything. How did you come to be the Duke of Ruin? Where did you learn so much about finances, and how to find those loose bricks in a fortune?”
Gabe carefully swallowed his bite and set his fork aside. “The truth?”
“But of course.”
Very well, then. He’d known this would be coming eventually, and he’d been wondering how she would react. Tonight, they would both find out.
“When I was a young man, I worked for a pawnbroker. One with a reputation for discretion and a distinguished clientele. I learned how to judge the value of fine items—but more than that, I learned how to judge the fine people. Over time, you come to observe certain patterns. The lady who comes in monthly, like clockwork, letting go one more pearl from an ever-shrinking necklace? Blackmailed for a secret she can’t afford her husband to know. The younger fellow who stumbles in of a morning, reeking of brandy and willing to accept shillings on the pound for his pocket watch? Gaming debts. The ones who weep as they hand over family heirlooms? They’re poised on the brink of insolvency.”
“And you use this knowledge to your advantage. You seize on their vulnerability to take what they have left.”
“By perfectly legal means.”
“You don’t feel any sympathy for them?”
“None.” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. “Where do you think all that money comes from? Your own family’s estate, for that matter. Parcels of land granted with the wave of a king’s hand, centuries ago. That’s the land here in Britain, of course. When that wasn’t enough, they grabbed more from every corner of the world. The aristocracy built fortunes on the backs of serfs, peasants, tenant farmers. Slaves. I don’t suffer a moment’s shame when I take their wealth from them.”
“You realize that when you say ‘them,’ you also mean me. My family, my friends.”
“I‘m aware of that.”
She poked at a dish of sherry trifle with her spoon. “Before the pawnbroker, where were you?”
“On the streets. Thieving. How do you think I met the pawnbroker? I had to sell the pocket watches and baubles somewhere.”
“And before that?”
“The workhouse, mostly.”
“The workhouse? How dreadful.”
“Could have been worse. I was out of the cold, at least. Meager meals are better than none. They taught us to read and write, and do sums.” Gabe had also learned how to grind bones with a rock until his fingers bled, and how to survive savage beatings from a schoolmaster who took cruel joy in meting them out. But those were lessons better left unmentioned.
“What about your parents?”
“Never knew them.” The one falsehood in his tale.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“I’m not.”
“So you were raised in the workhouse—and here you are now, at the top of the world.” She propped an elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. “It’s remarkable, Gabriel. You must be proud.”
Was he proud? He’d always thought so, but now he wasn’t so sure. A sense of pride implied satisfaction. By now, everything he’d amassed ought to feel like enough—but it didn’t. Satisfaction eluded him, again and again.
The hunger never went away.
He pushed back from the table. “The fireworks will be starting soon.”
He guided her over to a heap of pillows and plush, sumptuous blankets. Velvet, satin, embroidered silk. They relaxed into the jumble of luxury and stared up at the clear night sky.
“Alexandra would know the name of each and every star up there,” Penny said. “She found a comet, you know. It’s named for her.”
“That’s impressive.”
“I have remarkably accomplished friends. Alex is our astronomer. Emma’s a magician with needle and thread, and Nicola . . . well, Nicola has a dozen brilliant ideas a day. Only half of them are new biscuit recipes.”