Chapter 11 #2
Fortunately, they had just pulled up in front of his town house. “We’re here, lads,” he said.
And just that quickly, the argument was forgotten.
“Do we get our same old rooms?” Kit asked. “And do I still have to share with Zack?”
“You each have your own rooms, both here and at Longmead,” Heathbrook said. “Here, Zack will be staying in Mother’s old room for now.”
“But where will Giselle stay?” Zack asked.
In my bed.
God, he really was behaving like a rakehell these days, wasn’t he? Lately, he couldn’t seem to think of anything but bedding Giselle.
“I have to stay with my mother,” Giselle told Zack kindly. “Heath and I are not married, so we cannot stay in the same house.”
“Aren’t married yet,” Kit pointed out.
“Of course.” She smiled overbrightly. “That is what I meant. I have to stay at Maman’s house wherever we go.”
Hmm. Did she always have to stay at her mother’s house?
“Exactly,” Heathbrook told his brothers. “Now, go on in the house and find your rooms. I’ll be along shortly. I just need to speak to Giselle a moment before she goes on to her mother’s house.”
The boys were all too eager to leap from the carriage and run up into the town house that had once been their London home.
“Tomorrow,” Heath told Giselle, “how should we arrange the seats? We can all fit in this carriage, but I daresay it wouldn’t be a comfortable journey for any of us.”
“Probably not. Honestly, Heath, if you would prefer that Maman and I follow our original plans and hire our own post-chaise to take us to Bath—”
“No. I would not prefer it. I’d already planned on taking two equipages with me, anyway. Might as well fill them both. We just need to decide how to arrange the group.”
“For the first leg of the journey, you should ride with your brothers. Spend time getting to know them as they are now. Maman and I will ride in the other carriage. Then once we stop to eat, we can consult on who should ride where.”
“That’s one way to do it, I suppose.” He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering how he could broach the subject of the other idea he’d had. “In fact, I was thinking . . . well, you and your mother could stay with us at Longmead while you’re in Bath.”
She blinked at him. “B-But how would Maman go to the baths?”
“Longmead isn’t that far outside the town. I could send you both to Bath in one of my carriages in the morning, and you could return in the afternoon, once you’re done. We could all have dinner together. The boys could practice their French with your mother. It would be perfectly respectable.”
“Do you really think that is wise, Heath?” she asked in a low voice.
Wise? Not at all. But he suddenly felt a desperate need to have someone else helping him with the boys. She seemed to be good at it, and he was terrified he would prove bad at it.
She narrowed her gaze on him. “Why are you proposing this all of a sudden?”
“I merely think it makes sense. And it will keep you safe from Vaughan Jones.”
“If he is still in Bath, which is by no means certain. Your own footman could not find him there.”
“That doesn’t mean he isn’t hiding there, somewhere.”
She searched his face. “I know why you want us to stay at Longmead. And why you want us to ride with you tomorrow. It has nothing to do with Vaughan Jones, either. You are afraid to be alone with your brothers.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he muttered, surprised she knew him so well.
A smile crossed her lovely lips. “The Earl of Heathbrook, who was ready to thrash a man for flirting with me, who risked life and limb to try escaping Verdun, is afraid of three boys.”
“I’m not afraid of them,” he grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m just worried I won’t be able to handle them alone.”
“You will be fine, I am sure. At Longmead, you can all sit around scratching yourselves and complaining about women and dressing as you please.” Her eyes gleamed at him. “You can teach them how to be rakehells! Not Zack, of course, since he is obviously terrified of girls, but the other two—”
“Now, see, that is precisely what I mean. You immediately realized Zack was bothered by girls, and you found a way to make him think logically about it. I don’t come up with those things.”
“Because you think like a man. Try thinking the way you did when you were their age.” Her voice softened. “Kit is barely older than you were when you went to France, is he not?”
Oh, God, he was, and considering the trouble Heath had landed himself in then . . . “Just think about it, will you?” he said hoarsely. “Talk to your mother and see what she says.”
Giselle sniffed. “I know what she will say. She likes you. She will think it all perfectly acceptable, because she thinks we are marrying.”
“It will certainly be seen by anyone as perfectly acceptable, even after we part. Besides, I was already planning to invite you to our Harvest Ball later this week, and this way you will conveniently be right there.”
“Are not harvest celebrations generally earlier—in September or October?”
“Due to the necessity of my being in court, we decided to postpone the Harvest Ball until this week. The women in the village near Longmead agreed to plan it on my behalf, since one hasn’t been held since my mother’s death and since you and I are newly betrothed.”
He seized her hands. “Just come to Longmead, you and your mother. I promise to behave myself.”
“You had better,” she said, unwittingly betraying that she was considering his suggestion. Or perhaps not so unwittingly, since she took her hands from his. “Very well, I will talk to Maman.” She thrust out her chin. “But only if you agree to dance a waltz with me at your Harvest Ball.”
“Certainly. I’ll have to dance at least once with you, anyway, since we’ll be announcing our engagement there, so it might as well be a waltz. I assume you know how?”
“Do you?” she asked saucily.
“Of course,” he said, though he didn’t know it well. “I make sure to learn every dance that involves holding a beautiful woman in my arms.” He could practice before the Harvest Ball, couldn’t he?
Before she could retort, a tap came at the window, startling them both. He glanced over to see Renham standing there, looking agitated. He opened the door. “What is it, Renham?”
“Master Zachary says he cannot sleep in your mother’s old room because it is haunted.”
Heathbrook released her hands to rub his temples. “Of course it is. I’ll be right there.”
As soon as Renham left, Heathbrook cast her an imploring look. “So, you’ll come to Longmead then.”
“I said I’d talk to . . .” She lifted her eyes heavenward. “Oh, very well. As long as Maman does not object. But there will be no secret kisses, do you hear?”
“I swear it upon my honor,” he said, crossing his heart. And he meant to hold to it if it killed him.
Which it very well might.