But laborers who dug ditches for a shilling a day rarely had the opportunity to learn their letters, let alone decipher the complex financial shorthand of an estate ledger. Gabriel leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. Even in the dim light, he looked massive, dangerous. He didn't look like a man who belonged in a trench, but he didn't look like a man who belonged in a drawing room, either. “I read very well, Miss Hastings,” Gabriel said.
Norah stiffened. You know my name. You made an impression this afternoon. The men talk. His gray eyes studied her face, dropping to her bare feet on the wooden floor.
They also talk about how the steward will try to ruin you for embarrassing him. Mr. Croft does not have the power to ruin me. My aunt has already seen to that. Norah walked closer, glancing at the burlap sack. Whatever you are looking for in those books, you had best find it quickly and leave.
If he catches you here, he will not just turn you off the estate. He will have you arrested. “Let him try,” Gabriel murmured. There was that arrogance again. That terrifying unearned confidence.
“You are a fool if you think you can fight him,” Norah snapped, her voice urgent. “He has the law on his side. He has the Duke's backing.”
“The Duke?” Gabriel spat the word like a curse. “What do you know of the Duke?”
“I know he is a coward,” Norah said bluntly. “He inherited this massive estate, with hundreds of people depending on him, and he stays in London drinking wine while his steward starves the workers. He is just like the rest of them—careless, cruel by omission.” Gabriel went perfectly still. The air in the room seemed to drop 10°. He stared at her, absorbing the words.
For three months, he had been angry at the system, angry at Croft, angry at his dead father. But hearing this woman, this outcast who had ruined her own life to bring a cup of water to a stranger call him a coward to his face, it felt like a knife to the ribs, and it felt entirely deserved. "You hold your own kind in very low regard, Miss Hastings," he finally said softly. "They are not my kind," Norah said, turning toward the door. I am nothing to them and after today I am less than nothing. She placed her hand on the brass door knob. Get out of here before dawn.
Take whatever money you think you are owed and run. The aristocracy does not lose to men like you. They just crush you. She opened the door and stepped back into the shadows of the corridor. Gabriel watched her go.