“Iwaspaying attention,” Zeb snapped. “I was working. I can’t help it if you sneak up—”
“Iwalkedup. I can’t help it if you don’t listen.”
“I don’t listen when I’m concentrating, as you very well know! That’s what concentration is!”
It was an all too familiar argument, which had used to be affectionate. Zeb tended to alternate between wildly skittering thoughts—Gideon had called them ‘quicksilver’—and deep absorption in a subject to the exclusion of all else, whereas Gideon could apply himself an appropriate amount to the thinghe was meant to be doing. Zeb had no idea how Gideon could do it so easily. Gideon had no idea why Zeb couldn’t.
He didn’t want to think about that, or talk about it either.
“Was there something?” he asked. “I assume you’re not just here for a chat. Oh, actually, I should probably warn you, you’re going to be assailed by my relatives. Bram intends to tell you off for filling Jessamine’s head with ghost stories.”
Gideon blinked. “I haven’t done that.”
“Well, she is convinced you saw a ghostly monk and is telling everyone so. Bram disapproves of the very mention of ghosts, but Hawley is going to bother you about it in order to impress Jessamine by pretending to believe her, and that will doubtless put you between a rock and a hard place. My advice is to say something provocative about modern art and leg it while they’re shouting.”
Gideon’s lips twitched. It was just for a second, and Zeb could see him suppress it, but it was there, and with that tiny near-smile Zeb’s heart hurt all over again, as if it was a year ago, the wound still fresh.
Just memory, he reminded himself. Just echoes of past feelings. It didn’t matter any more.
“Noted,” Gideon said, and then added, almost reluctantly, “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Did you want me? That is, you came to find me. Was there a reason for that, is what I meant.”
“Uh. Yes. Yes, there is. You told Wynn you wanted to leave.”
“I did. I do.”
“Good,” Gideon said briskly. “Are you packed? I can order the motor now.”
“Did Wynn say to do that?”
“He doesn’t have to give me step-by-step instructions. You want to leave, I want you to leave, so—”
“No, but I said Iwouldn’tleave,” Zeb said. “Wynn and I discussed it and I agreed to stay.”
Gideon’s face hardened visibly. “Of course you did.”
“There’s noof courseabout it. I’d very much rather not be here, but he asked me in terms I couldn’t refuse.”
“Of course. So you’ll just have to stay here, looking nobly above the undignified scramble for inheritance? Very effective.”
“What the devil are you talking about?” Zeb demanded. “Gideon, this is me. You know perfectly well—”
“I know your work ethic perfectly well; I was your supervisor long enough,” Gideon snarled, low-voiced and furious. “I dare say never having to lift a finger again would suit you no worse than it would suit most people. Just stop playacting, for God’s sake. If I have to sit here watching you woo your damned cousin, you could at least be honest about what you’re doing!”
“I’m not!” Zeb yelped. “I don’t want any part of this, and I’m not wooing Jessamine and—are youjealous?”
Gideon’s pale skin had always been treacherous. The colour flamed in his cheeks now, an ugly red. “Go to hell,” he said thickly. “Go to hell, Zeb.”
He walked out on that. Zeb stared after him.
Six
Zeb couldn’t regain his concentration after that. He wasn’t sure if he should go after Gideon and try to make things better somehow, or go back to Wynn and beg to be absolved from his promise, or what on earth he could do except take a vow of silence, because every time he opened his mouth he made things worse.
He’d have liked to get out for a proper walk, but the light was already dimming. Instead, he flipped through a few books, failed to settle on one, and went up to his room early, with a vague idea of not being so late for dinner this time. It was six in the evening by now, and pitch dark. The gaslight was low, with an irritating faint flicker that gave Zeb a mildly seasick feeling, unless that was the wallpaper. It was very quiet indeed, as though nobody else was staying in the corridor, or the wing, or the house.
Not that Zeb wanted to find himself closer to his relatives. If they had bedrooms in the other wing, that suited him very well.But the silence of the halls felt strange all the same.
