Gemma moved forward until she saw Mr. Thurlowe. He’d not left with the others.
He held his hat in his hand, his stance awkward. “Congratulations.” There was no good humor in his voice.
She mimicked his tone. “Thank you.”
“The cut on your temple looks better this morning than it did last night.”
“Yes, thank you.” She wasn’t going to give him one inch and would have gone on after the others except he moved to place himself in her way.
“You know I was planning to hold a lecture seminar here.”
Gemma tensed, waiting. “Yes.”
“Perhaps we could make arrangements?” He did not wear humility well.
And the truth was, yesterday, before the attack, she would have been open to the idea. Now—? “You spoke against me.”
His expression tightened. “I spoke for the Society.”
“You hid the magistrate from us. If my friends had not gone for him, you wouldn’t have said a thing until you had coerced him into your way of thinking, using your friendship as inducement. Certainly it would be easier than bashing someone over the head.”
He really didn’t like that. “I say again, I had nothing to do with Fitz’s action last night.”
“Perhaps. But I’d wager that if he’d found my letter, you would have looked the other way. You would have denied me of what was rightfully mine. You and your friends would have happily seen me turned out.”
A dull red crept up his neck. Was it shame? Or anger that he hadn’t won? “I said before the magistrate that I would have paid you for The Garland.”
“Am I to believe that? Or trust you would have paid me what it is worth? Do you have that sort of money, Doctor?”
“I have enough to have seen you happy. I also have a better character than what you believe.”
“I doubt if you will ever convince me of that, sir. And I shall never let you or your Society have a foothold in The Garland again. I am not one to entertain my enemies. And no, you may not have your lecture here.” With those proud words, she dismissed him with a, “Good day, sir,” and left to follow the others.
Huddled in the crossroads down by the church, Winderton and the younger members of the Society were working themselves into a lather over Mars’s verdict. Even Sir Lionel and Fullerton had joined them. Apparently, the old members had just caught word that there had been a meeting.
Shielding was boasting that he wasn’t afraid to take the matter all the way to London, a bit of silliness if ever Ned had heard of it. “A woman shouldn’t have the right to inherit property. Or at least property important to the village,” Shielding was saying, punctuating the air with his finger for emphasis.
Heads nodded. Ned walked right by them. They could grouse on their own. He had his own concerns. His lecture series was ending before it really started.
However, they weren’t going to let him go. “Thurlowe,” Winderton called.
One had to stop for a duke.
Ned turned. “Yes?” He took a beat and tacked on, “Your Grace?”
“Where are we going to meet now?”
“Yes,” Sir Lionel said. “Where shall we gather now that we’ve lost The Garland?”
Ned didn’t hide his exasperation. “Where have you been gathering?”
“At your place,” Sweeney said helpfully.
“That is not going to happen.” Ned saw no reason to mince words.
“We met at your place a time or two, Your Grace,” Dawson said.
“Aye, and a good time we had.” Winderton smiled and then turned serious. “The truth is, we shall have to find a new location. I say we head for the posting house and we do so now.” The posting house was some four miles away. It was a busy inn along the Newmarket Road.
“I could use a drink to wash down that nonsense,” Sweeney said. “Can you imagine tossing me out over a curtain?” He still held it in his hand. The others glumly nodded agreement.
“To the posting house,” one of the Dawson brothers shouted and like a clan of crusaders, two of them in sedan chairs, they went off down the road.
Everyone, that is, save the duke and Ned. “You aren’t going, Your Grace?” So far Winderton had been ready for any party.
“Oh, I’ll join them. Except I’m going to ride.” He looked at Ned. “As chairman, Thurlowe, all of this is your problem. You need to talk to Mars and change his mind. We can’t have the women thinking they won.”
“They did win, Your Grace.”
“Not if Mars reverses his opinion.”
“He won’t.”
“You could change his mind. I expect it of you.” On that thought, the duke began walking toward the smithy, where he must have left his horse that morning.
For a second Ned considered the matter. Could he convince Mars that he was wrong? Ned didn’t know.
As he had expected, he found Mars was in the stable. Bruno was saddled. Mars was just handing a vail over to the stable lad who came in every morning to see to the chores. Mars waved the lad away and calmly faced him.
“What happened?” Ned demanded.
“The law happened.”
“Letter of Wishes?” Ned snorted his doubts.
“There is such a thing in the law. And last night you were encouraging me to have a purpose. Now you know the truth. I do take my position as magistrate seriously. I always have. And don’t believe Shielding or anything he claims. He has the wits of a knob of wood. Besides, Andy’s letter was very clear he was fond of his niece.”
“I’d never heard him speak of her before her arrival in the village and I saw Andy almost every day.”
“Well, you didn’t see him the evening of the last Cotillion Dance, because she was there.”
“Summerall said he met her. Did you?”
“No, I learned about her the day of the rook hunt. After breakfast, I stayed when everyone else left. Andy was preparing to make the pies and he said he was expecting his niece. He was excited. The next day, at the lecture, I asked where she was. He said she had already traveled on. He’d also said their meeting had been good. He was proud, and sad. You know how we men are.”
“No, I don’t know. I don’t pine after my family, such as they are.”
“Well, Andy did.”
“What the devil is this about?”
“Last night you lectured me. Today I lecture you.”
“No, you betrayed me.”
Mars’s easiness vanished. “Be careful, my friend.” His warning was soft, and meaningful.
Ned stepped back. “I beg pardon. That was unnecessary. However, what becomes of the Society?” He paused and then added, “Of my hopes for the lecture series. I asked if we could still hold the lecture at The Garland. Mrs. Estep flatly refused.”
Mars grunted his thoughts. “When did you ask?”
“After the verdict.”
“There are times when you have more hair than wits. Give her a few days or even a week then ask her again. She’ll change her mind.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because you will work on her. You will show your handsome face and jabber on about the importance of building fine minds or whatever it is you say that convinced all of us to support you, and she’ll agree to hold the lecture.”