“Can’t have that.”
But beneath the banter, the truth stood between them.
Dash had learned Gideon was alone with Beatrice in her bedchamber.
Perhaps he’d learned more than that. And now… they must face the consequences.
Gideon reached for her hand again.
“Come with me,” he said.
“Truly?”
“I intended to speak with Dash anyway. Properly. But I will not discuss your future without you there. As though you are not part of it.” His thumb brushed across her knuckles. “So will you come with me?”
For a moment, she could not speak.
Then she lifted her chin.
“Of course I will.”
His gaze softened.
“After,” she added, “I fix that bandage. Because if my brother is going to threaten you, I should prefer you not walk in bleeding on his carpet.”
Dash was going to be insufferable.
A strange little chill moved through her despite the warmth left over from all that kissing.
Gideon was finally going to face Dash, not as his best friend, his most trusted confidante, but as a man asking permission to marry his sister. Except…
Beatrice frowned.
No.
That was not quite right, was it?
Dash would have opinions about his sister marrying. Of course he would. He was a duke, an older brother, and a Beckman.
But Gideon was not merely any gentleman.
She lifted her chin. “You are not the only one to be doing the asking.”
Gideon stared at her.
His brows drew together. For one wild second, he looked as though he thought she might be teasing him.
She was not.
“You mean to ask Dash for me?” he said.
“I mean to inform my brother that I am marrying his dearest friend, assuming he can bring himself to part with you.”
A short laugh escaped him.
A little astonished. Perhaps a little appalled.
Then he shook his head, laughing softly. “Of course.”
