Chapter Twenty-Six
The next few weeks crept by with the painful slowness one only experienced during enforced monotony.
Unused to the severe degree of inactivity, Caroline felt as if she were slowly losing her mind.
She could only read so many books before her eyes crossed.
She completed enough embroidery to provide Lady Juliette with a full collection of napkins—enough for her to host a dinner party.
She did the same for Emily with pillow coverings in shades and designs that complemented her decor.
She continued to tell herself that it was a wonderful break from the bustle of London life, but that exercise was wearing thin.
To his credit, Gideon spent as much time with her as he could.
While his days were sometimes spent out of the townhouse meeting with his men of business and seeing to other estate matters, he returned to her bedchamber each evening.
They would share a meal, recount stories from their days, play cards or read side by side, and fall asleep in one another’s arms. Though they grumbled about it, she suspected they’d both wind up missing the small bed when they were eventually allowed to move back to Swanleigh House—there was something so intimate about the forced proximity.
Though they often both woke up aching and needy with arousal, it was far preferable to sleeping alone.
Though Lady Juliette and McCullom had returned to their own residence, she visited often and brought Caroline delightfully entertaining literature, as well as interesting stories from her ladies’ reading society—which, she assured Caroline, she could attend just as soon as she was physically able.
She’d read about the bold, outspoken Duchess of Morton, but she’d never been introduced to her.
From the stories her friend told, Caroline suspected she and the duchess would get on quite well.
Besides, the scandalous reading society seemed just the thing Caroline needed in her life.
The pains in her abdomen had subsided and the babe’s movements increased, all signs which McCullom and his assistant, Dr. Bianchi, considered promising.
Bianchi, with his classically Italian looks, dark hair, fathomless eyes, and musical accent was eminently professional and attentive during his monitoring of Caroline’s condition.
His visits were a brief respite in her day, and each time she saw him, she hoped he would tell her she would be released from her confinement.
His smiles were kind and regretful each time he urged her to err on the side of caution and allow a few more days.
This was not what she preferred to hear, but she told herself she’d rather suffer from boredom than cause her child any strain.
Emily and Oliver were also regular visitors.
She knew Emily had shared the news of her pregnancy with her husband, but Caroline had yet to mention it to Gideon.
It was not her place to reveal it, well remembering how it had felt to her when she thought the news of her own pregnancy had spread without her consent.
Instead, she settled for watching Emily and Oliver together while they were blindingly thrilled with the future that lay ahead of them.
It was a sight to behold. Several times, she caught an expression of tenderness on Oliver’s face that was so similar to the one she often saw on Gideon that it made her breath catch.
Two men from very different backgrounds—who knew so little about tenderness and acceptance—were remarkably similar in the way they’d overcome their respective adversity to forge their own paths… and learn what love truly meant.
The brothers had become closer in the weeks since Caroline and Emily’s abduction, and it warmed Caroline’s heart.
Often when Emily came to sit with her, Oliver would leave them to their refreshments and amiable chatter, seeking out Gideon in the parlor belowstairs.
Caroline did not know for certain, but she guessed they spoke of things most men did—hobbies, horseflesh, politics, how, when, and why Oliver had become involved in an elite society of spies (yes, Gideon had finally revealed to her the secrets of his half brother’s history).
Or perhaps they discussed their pasts, took turns learning from one another, and figured out what it meant to have a family who did not wish you ill or possess any ulterior motives.
She liked to think it was a bit of everything.
One day, during Caroline’s third week in McCullom and Bianchi’s care, Gideon was sitting at Caroline’s bedside, reclining with negligent grace as he read his book, when Emily and Oliver arrived for their visit.
They greeted them warmly and shared the expected pleasantries about their days. Emily had spent some time working through the books at Lady Night’s, Oliver had accompanied her, and Gideon had spent much of his afternoon coordinating the sale of a small property near the Welsh border.
“And I have run out of crimson thread. Again.” Caroline’s voice was deceptively cheery as she provided her pathetic update.
“Oh, darling.” Gideon kissed the top of her head and his words were covered in a healthy coat of sympathy. “It won’t be too much longer now.”
She certainly hoped not.
“Would you care to step out for a bit?” Oliver asked Gideon after a few more minutes of conversation.
Gideon’s eyes darted to Caroline, and she knew it was on the tip of his tongue to refuse—not because he did not wish to spend time with Oliver, but because he knew how the time spent in that room was wearing on her.
He felt guilty about being able to live his life while she was effectively frozen in time.
“Go on,” she shooed him. “Emily and I can share supper and chat. You have done nothing but spend every spare moment you have with me. I am certain the lads are about to storm the townhouse with torches and pitchforks and drag you from here. Unless I have lost track of time, it is Wednesday; they should be at Duke’s.
Take Oliver there on a visitor’s voucher.
I will be fine while you are absent for a few hours.
Bianchi has no appointments this evening to take him away in case I have need of him. ”
Gideon eventually acquiesced and promised to return in a few hours’ time.
“Thank goodness,” Emily sighed and slumped back in the chair Gideon had vacated.
“Oliver is thrilled about the baby, but my, he will drive me mad with his watchfulness!” Caroline laughed in sympathy.
“He treats me with kid gloves when all I want is for him to…you know—” Emily’s words died, and her cheeks turned a rather distinct shade of crimson.
“Oh, I understand. Believe me, I do.” And did Caroline ever.
Gideon and Oliver strolled through the doors of the exclusive Covent Garden gaming hell.
After producing his membership token and alerting the manager that he would use his single annual guest voucher for Oliver, their coats were swiftly spirited away by the efficient staff and they were shown into one of the designated dining areas.
A buffet of elegantly prepared dishes was laid out on the table spanning the width of the room.
Oysters were nestled in a bed of ice—an astounding luxury that made an appearance at least once each week on Duke’s table.
A whole roasted pig, potatoes of all preparations, sole, squab, an array of vegetables and fruits, and an entire corner dedicated to a tower of pastries and chocolates rounded out that evening’s offerings. It was opulence at its finest.
Gideon watched as his half brother absorbed their surroundings. From the fine papering on the walls to the polished wood bannisters, the expensive rugs, tapestries, and gilded sconces and polished crystal chandeliers, everything was impeccable.
“Have you been here before?” he asked Oliver. There was not the barest hint of condescension in his tone. In Oliver’s line of work, who knew the places he’d been and the things he’d seen? Gideon could only guess, and he suspected even his wildest imaginings were still nowhere near the truth.
“Only the exterior,” he replied, eyeing the glistening surface of a halved oyster with either intense interest or disgust. “Lady Night’s sometimes loans out employees for events. I have escorted them here before.”
Gideon nodded just as they were approached by a few of Duke’s other members.
A steady stream of gentlemen made inquiries as to Caroline’s health and his prolonged absence from Society and other social clubs.
No one commented on his mostly healed injuries, though a few pairs of eyes flicked to the cut on his cheek.
Other gazes were more drawn toward the man at Gideon’s side.
News of the Marquess of Swanleigh acknowledging his bastard half brother had made the rounds of the gossip columns.
As expected, there were a fair bit of salacious whispers spread about the situation, but Gideon found it easy to set them aside when he knew the truth of it all.
He was proud to have a brother—especially an unrecognized hero such as Oliver.
Whether London knew it or not, Oliver was one of the many men to whom it owed its peace and way of life.
Blackwell and the others stumbled upon Oliver and Gideon as they sat down to eat.
Soon, all of them shared a table, chatting and laughing amiably over their plates and the flowing drinks.
Gideon noticed that Oliver never took more than a sip of any spirits placed before him—he was coming to learn Oliver was not a man prone to vices.
It warmed Gideon’s heart in to see his closest friends together with his brother, all of them sharing a meal and a table, accepting one another’s presence as if they’d always been a part of each other’s lives… and they did that for him.
Eventually, Gideon’s friends returned to their planned evening of heavy gaming. Gideon and Oliver opted to remain at the table. Oliver lifted his glass.
“A toast,” he said, and Gideon raised his own without question.
“To family and friends, both of which I found quite by accident only a few short months ago.” There was an openness to Oliver’s face, a rawness to his tone that Gideon had not experienced before.
The man was usually so cool and composed.
“I was alone for so much of my life and I believed that was how it would be forever. Then, I found Emily. A year later, you chanced into my path…and you’re bloody lucky I didn’t pummel you like you deserved.
” Gideon laughed heartily at that—having seen Oliver in action, he could well appreciate that statement.
“Now, I have the chance to right the wrongs of the people in my life because I fully intend to be a much better parent than those I’ve known.
And I look forward to raising our children together. ”
The words sank in, and Gideon’s smile burst into an enormous grin. “Emily is with child!” Oliver nodded and his grin was blinding. Gideon tossed back his drink and clasped hands with his brother. “Congratulations! When did you find out?”
“Just the other day,” Oliver answered after he took a sip of his drink and set it aside. “I wanted you to be among the first to know.”
This made Gideon pause. “Don’t you have other friends? People whom you have known for many years? Wouldn’t you wish to tell them first?”
Oliver shrugged. “The very nature of my life and my disposition prevented me from becoming close to almost everyone; as such, I have only one or two men I would consider friends.” Gideon was humbled beyond measure to realize he was now officially among that select group, but he was truly taken aback by his next comment.
“You are, after all, my little brother.” Oliver’s eyes glinted with a mischievousness Gideon hadn’t known the man possessed.