Chapter 15 #3
“You do not know how strange it feels to me, Hetty. Damian and I swore we would never marry, never have children, to ensure we did not taint the next generation. But suddenly, this dreadful burden I’ve carried my entire life, the fear that I might one day try to harm those I loved and end up like her…
it’s gone. Because she isn’t my mother.”
“Oh, Gideon.” Her voice was soft with wonder, and she reached for him, taking his hands. “That’s wonderful news. But how—”
Gideon squeezed her fingers, touched by the happiness that shone in her eyes for him as he led her over to the fountain.
They sat on the cool stone ledge as he explained everything Damian had told him.
At intervals, a gentle breeze would send a fine mist from the fountain to patter their skin, and it was wonderfully cool.
“You must be so relieved. I cannot imagine how difficult it has been for you all these years.”
He laughed and then shook his head, guilt of a different kind squeezing his heart now. “It’s a relief for me. Not for Damian. Nothing has changed for him.”
Her expression sobered as she nodded her understanding. “But he did all that for you, Gideon. He tracked down his old nanny and sought the truth, knowing it would free you.”
Gideon’s heart felt suddenly raw and somewhat vulnerable as he acknowledged the truth of her words. He owed Damian a good deal for lifting the dreadful burden from his shoulders. “That’s Damian all over. One moment you want to murder him with your bare hands, and then he does something like that.”
She studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his. “You’re afraid he really is like his mother.”
He shrugged. “Yes. I have always known he was far more like her. He’s…unpredictable.”
Though he did not wish to, he thought it best he spelled things out, though Hetty was no fool. “I’m illegitimate, Hetty.”
“You and half the ton,” she said with a little laugh. “You can’t think I care about that, surely?”
Gideon felt a smile curve his lips. He’d suspected she would not give a damn, but all the same. It was good to hear her say it.
They sat in silence for a moment, Gideon’s attention riveted upon the slim hand holding his.
He turned it and lifted it to his mouth, kissing her palm.
Her breath hitched, and he slanted a glance at her.
Her skin was a lush pink, except for the purple bruise, her soft mouth reddened by his kisses, and her eyes…
her eyes glowed, dark and filled with anticipation.
“I want to kiss you,” he told her, a little startled by the husky quality of his own voice. “I want to kiss you so badly my skin aches for it. I want to kiss you everywhere, Hetty, starting at your toes, and not missing an inch of you.”
The pink deepened, a hectic surge of colour rushing over her that told its own story.
“I’ve shocked you.”
“A little,” she admitted, the words unsteady. “But only because I want you to.”
It was Gideon’s turn to burn, for his blood seemed to scald his veins, and he knew nothing but her touch would cure him.
He prayed he was not being a fool, that they could find a way to marry, even if her father refused to give his consent, for he could not endure this torture for too long.
Though that assumed he was not being a fool and that Hetty wished for a future with him. He needed to know that for certain.
A sound from the terrace, the indistinct murmur of voices drifted on the breeze, and Hetty frowned.
“Is someone else here?”
“Damian,” Gideon said offhandedly.
Hetty’s eyes grew very round. “With Cilly? Oh, my!”
“Hetty!” he complained. He was not done kissing her yet, but she leapt to her feet, about to hurry off, only to turn back to him. She bent, pressing her mouth to his, firm and ardent. She let out an unsteady breath as she broke the kiss, taking a step away.
“Tomorrow. Can you get away at lunchtime?”
Gideon nodded, though he could remember nothing of his schedule for the next day. Nothing else mattered more than seeing her again.
Her smile was swift and bright. “Excellent. Meet me on the beach, where Gee-Gee’s bathing huts are. I’ll bring a picnic.”
“Yes.”
He just gazed at her, wanting nothing more than to drink her in, to stay here in this lovely place and — “Well, don’t just sit there. You’ve left your wicked brother alone with Cilly!” she exclaimed, tugging at his hand.
Gideon allowed her to pull him to his feet.
“You just said how kind he was,” he grumbled, not ready for the interlude to end yet.
“To you,” she said with a snort. “Not to my innocent sister. She’s far too sweet natured to fend for herself with such a man.”
Suddenly a little alarmed himself, Gideon hurried after her.
Hetty almost ran up the steps to the terrace, uncertain if she was relieved or anxious at finding her sister alone.
“Where is he?” she demanded.
Cilly looked up from the book she was reading, the picture of innocence. “Who, dear?”
Hetty narrowed her eyes, hearing Gideon’s more measured tread as he made his way up the stairs.
“Rivington, obviously!”
“Oh. He went a little while ago,” Cilly said with a shrug.
“He just left?” A flicker of something uneasy niggled in the pit of Hetty’s stomach as Cilly returned her attention to her book. “Just like that.”
“Mmhmm.”
He left my beautiful sister alone when he might have stayed in this romantic spot and flirted with her—Hetty scowled. Her brain did not like the odds of that being true.
“How long was he here? Did he upset you?”
Cilly looked, blinking in confusion. “Upset me? Whatever do you mean?”
Hetty let out a breath of annoyance. “I don’t know.
I don’t know what I mean, except—” Suddenly her attention snagged on the book Cilly was reading.
It was a Gothic novel, the one that she’d been trying to read earlier.
Cilly hated Gothic novels and yet she held the book open almost in the middle and — “Aha!”
Cilly leapt in alarm as Hetty snatched the book from her. “It’s upside down!” she said in triumph. Though what she felt so victorious about, she had no idea.
Cilly turned scarlet and snatched the book back.
“What happened?” Hetty demanded, perfectly certain that something must have happened.
“Nothing! Stop treating me like I’m a silly little nitwit just out of the schoolroom. I’m older than you, Henrietta, and don’t you forget it.”
With that, Cilly surged to her feet and stalked off, leaving Hetty open-mouthed with shock.
She stood, watching her go in stunned silence, aware of Gideon moving to stand beside her.
“That was… diplomatic,” he said, and she heard the teasing note to his voice.
She slid a rueful glance at him. “I don’t do diplomatic, I do bull in a china shop, surely you’ve realised that by now.”
“I have,” he said, grinning at her. It was the sort of fondly amused expression that gave her hope that he was in as sorry a state as she was. For no other man would find her ham-fisted manner of caring for people amusing, of that she was certain.
Hetty groaned. “I’m such an idiot. I ought to know not to confront Cilly like that.
She’s remarkably stubborn, but I’m not wrong and you know it.
Something happened.” She turned to Gideon, folding her arms. “Your brother did something or said something. So you had better find out what it was, and whatever he is up to, stop him.”
Gideon blinked at her. There was such a daunted look in his eyes she suspected the idea of stopping Damian doing anything was akin to trying to hold back the tide. “I’ll try,” he ventured cautiously. Well, that would have to do, but she’d better ensure he knew how serious she was.
“If he ruins my sister,” she began, a warning note behind the words.
Gideon held up his hands in surrender. “Understood. My brother will not ruin your sister. My word on it.”
Hetty let out a breath, relieved. Gideon was to be relied upon, she knew that as certainly as she knew the sun would rise the next day. He was simply that kind of man.
Not wanting to let him go with those words ringing in his ears, she smiled at him. “Thank you. I’m sorry for cutting short our… our…I didn’t want to,” she added helplessly, not knowing what else to say.
“Neither did I,” he replied, dropping his voice. “And I shall count the hours until tomorrow.”
“Noon,” she told him, suddenly breathless at the way he was looking at her, as if he could devour her—or kiss her just as he’d said he wanted to, starting at her toes and not missing an inch of skin.
Those words seemed to burn inside her, ready to burst into flame at the slightest provocation.
As it was, her skin flushed with anticipation.
Gideon glanced around, looking up at all the windows that looked out over the terrace. No privacy here.
He sighed. “Until tomorrow, then.”
She nodded, watching regretfully as he bowed and bid her a good evening, but his fingers brushed hers as he walked away, and Hetty smiled. It was only once he’d gone that she realised, she hadn’t explained to him about her ingenious plan.