“He told us he spent a lot of time around here,” I said, “and I believe him. Only a local would know how to find his way to Gypsy Hollow.”
“True,” said Kit. “And only an old-time local would know that the Gypsies camped here on their way to the Deeping Fair, because
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there hasn’t been a Deeping Fair for at least forty years. I remember my parents talking about it. And High Point . . .” Kit smiled reminiscently. “I’d forgotten that Emma’s Hill was called High Point, but it came back to me as soon as Leo mentioned it. I must have heard it from my father when I was younger than Will and Rob.”
“I wonder what kind of sentimental journey Leo’s on,” I mused aloud. “Did he camp there alone when he was young, or did he have company?” I snapped my fingers as a likely scenario presented itself to me. “I know what happened, Kit. Leo fell in love with a Gypsy girl, but she was already betrothed to a dashing young prince in the tribe, so Leo ran off to Australia, to forget.”
“Do Gypsies have tribes?” Kit asked. “Or princes?”
“Don’t be pedantic,” I scolded. “Just think of how awful it would be, to have the love of your life within your reach, then lose her to someone else.” I gazed dreamily across the soggy pasture, caught up in my own imaginings. “Think of how tragic it would be to have your soul mate snatched away from you, to be robbed of your one chance at happiness. I’ll bet, in his heart of hearts, he’s still in love with her.
I’ll bet she’s the only girl he ever loved. I’ll bet he wishes she’d run away with him to Australia. I’ll bet he dreams of her every—”
“Stop it, Lori,” Kit cut in, with unaccustomed harshness. “I know what you’re trying to do, and I want you to stop right now. ”
I emerged from my romantic reverie with a start and stared at him in honest confusion. My comments hadn’t been aimed at Kit.
I’d been thinking solely of Leo.
“I’m not trying to do anything,” I protested.
“Just stop it, will you?” Kit said angrily. “You’re never going to convince me to marry Nell, so you may as well stop trying. For once and for all, I’m not going to marry her,” he went on fiercely.
“I’m not going to marry anyone. ”
I’d seen Kit angry only once before, when a neighbor—the late and utterly unlamented Prunella Hooper—had spread scurrilous rumors about him. I hadn’t meant to provoke a second outburst, Aunt Dimity: Vampire Hunter
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but his furious overreaction to my idle comments made me consider a possibility I hadn’t previously considered.
“Kit,” I said gingerly, “are you gay?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” he snapped, rolling his eyes in exasperation. “No, Lori, I am not gay. I’m simply not interested in marriage.
It may be difficult for you to comprehend, but some people are meant to be alone. ”
“Okay,” I said meekly, “but . . . do you really think you’re one of them?”
“Yes, I do,” he said, scowling. “It would be wrong of me to—”
He broke off and set his lips in a thin line. “Give it a rest, Lori. I’m perfectly happy as I am.”
It didn’t seem like the right moment to call him a big fat liar, so I kept my mouth shut. As we walked on, however, I couldn’t help feeling a little indignant. If I’d intended to use a story to probe Kit’s feelings, I would have come up with something more subtle than a gooey tale about Leo and a long-lost Gypsy girl.
Apart from that, Kit should have known better than to order me to do anything, because he knew how lousy I was at obeying orders.
He could holler at me until he lost his voice, and it wouldn’t make one jot of difference to me. I might beat a tactical retreat on the Nell front from time to time, but I’d never give up on the battle for his happiness.
A black cloud seemed to hover over Kit as we trudged along the muddy lane, and he didn’t say another word until we’d reached the gravel apron in front of the manor house, when he turned to me abruptly.
“Meet me here at nine o’clock tomorrow morning,” he said.
“Dress for hiking and pray for rain.”
Before I could respond, he spun on his heel and stormed into the stable yard, leaving me to wonder what kind of plan he’d hatched for invading Aldercot Hall. Unless it involved boats, I couldn’t imagine why we’d need more rain than we already had.
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A more immediate concern, however, was to figure out how I’d get the rest of the way home. Annelise and the boys were gone, Emma’s car was nowhere in sight, and I wasn’t about to ask Kit for a lift in his present mood, so I soon reached a rather depressing conclusion: I had a mile-long slog ahead of me, through rain that was falling harder than ever.
A woebegone sigh escaped me as I turned my back on the manor house, but I hadn’t gone more than ten yards down the drive when I heard someone call my name.
“Ms. Shepherd! Wait!”