“Oh Lord, I didn’t ask. How is he? How are they both?”
Gideon’s sister had suffered years of poor health after giving birth to twin girls, costing a fortune in doctors, and then her husband had been seriously injured in an accident that had left him unable to work for more than a year. It was the kind of bad luck that plunged people from comfort into poverty at frightening speed. Gideon had been spending most of his salary onkeeping the family afloat; it was one of the reasons Zeb getting them both sacked was unforgivable.
“Eleanor is very well, and James has made a full recovery.” The glow in Gideon’s voice was audible. “He’s back at work.”
“Really? Oh, thank God.”
“It’s a huge relief. But of course they have debts still, and I’d long since run through my savings and borrowed all I could, and I didn’t want to be a drain on their household when I finally had a chance at work. So I leapt at it.”
“You spent everything you had on keeping them afloat,” Zeb said indignantly. “They couldn’t help you in return?”
“They did. I lived with them for eight months, for goodness’ sake.” Gideon spoke as if that went without saying; as if family could naturally be relied on and wouldn’t let you down. “But they deserved their own lives back, and I didn’t want to be dependent. I wanted a job, and when Wynn offered me this one out of the blue it felt heaven-sent. Board, lodging, good salary. A year of this and I’ll have paid off my debts,andhave a reference I can use.”
“That is marvellous,” Zeb said, resolving to think better of Wynn. “I’m awfully pleased.”
“Well, yes. Except, I have this job because you and I got sacked from Cubitt’s together. So if Hawley spills the beans and Wynn draws the obvious conclusion—”
“Oh God. If you lose this because of me—shit, shit,shit. I’ll do anything I have to. I could try grovelling to Hawley—”
“Wouldn’t that just make him worse?”
“I’m not sure things can get worse. I cannot lose you another job.”
Gideon’s fingers bit into his arms. “If I lose this, it won’t be your fault.”
“Yes, it will. I shouldn’t have come here at all, and I should have left when you told me, and I should never have done that stupid thing at Cubitt’s, and I’m so sorry—”
Gideon jerked him closer, jammed his cold face against Zeb’s, and kissed him.
It was not an elegant kiss, with numb faces and at least one party entirely unprepared for it. It was urgent and panicky and almost angry, and Zeb grabbed on for dear life, pulling Gideon against him, fists in his coat. Kissing in the mists, reckless, damp, frantic, together.
It didn’t last nearly long enough. Gideon let him go, breathing heavily. “It is not your fault,” he said again. “It’s my fault for getting caught up in Wyckhams again, and Wynn’s for not asking obvious questions, and Hawley’s for being a prick.”
Zeb released his lapels with regret. “Certainly the last one. All right, look. If Wynn says anything, there was an unfortunate incident at Cubitt’s, but it was entirely my fault for putting you in a compromising situation against your will. You were unjustly blamed, you haven’t seen me since. Yes?”
“No,” Gideon said flatly. “That’s not fair.”
“I will not lose you another job,” Zeb said equally flatly. “I will not, and you can’t ask me to. So you are going to blame me for everything, got it? I owe you this. You don’t have to take theconsequences of my actions again.”
Gideon’s lips parted. Zeb went on before he found an objection, not that there could be any. “And think about it. If we play this right, Wynn will insist I leave immediately, mist or not, and nobody in my family will ever speak to me again. I’d pay good money for that.”
“Zeb,” Gideon said again, and grabbed his hand.
Zeb squeezed it, hard. “You blame me, for everything. And that way you’ll keep your job, and it will all be fine. Come on. We should get back.”
Thirteen
Zeb returned to the house cold, sodden-footed, and dreading the near future. For all that, he felt better. He’d seen the expression in Gideon’s light eyes, the hope, the warmth. It was nice to have put something good there again.
Beslippered—he might as well be comfortable if he was going to have unpleasant confrontations—he went downstairs and walked right into Hawley.
“Oh,” he said.
“Morning.” Hawley looked heavy-eyed. Zeb had no idea who he was staying up drinking with; possibly just himself. “Still here? I thought you were going.”
“Wynn won’t let me take the motor. There’s a bad mist and we’re confined here till it lifts. I would go otherwise, I absolutely will, but it’s not in my power—”
“All right, all right. I don’t care.” Hawley sloped away in thedirection of the breakfast room.
