Page 2 of Love Wasn’t Built in a Day

“Including you,” Damian pointed out.

Gideon shrugged. “I tried, at least.”

Damian smiled. It was not a nice smile, and Gideon felt a shiver of apprehension. His brother was too unpredictable, too much like—well, he’d not think of that.

“If that’s all, I need to finish packing,” Gideon said, frowning as Damian moved to his desk and picked up a drawing with long, elegant fingers. Damian waved a dismissive hand.

“I’m not stopping you.”

Sighing, Gideon moved about the room, collecting the last of his things.

“I see Hollywell House has put up its fees again.”

Gideon looked up as Damian held the bill, he had yet to pay and waved it in the air, his expression unreadable.

“Give me that,” Gideon said, crossing the room and snatching it from Damian’s fingers.

“You are a lamentable fool, Deon.”

“So, I’m told,” Gideon replied coldly. “What else would you have me do? It’s not like you’ll pay it.”

“Find somewhere cheaper, a place that won’t bleed you dry,” Damian said, his voice low and harsh.

Gideon snorted. “What, so I can give the extra money to you instead?”

“Dammit, Gideon! I know I’m not exactly a shining example of humanity, but—”

“Don’t!” Gideon held up a hand, and something in the tone of his voice must have communicated itself to Damian because for once in his life he repressed the impulse to start a fight.

“Fine. Do as you please, you always have. Just try not to embarrass me any more than you must,” Damian said coldly, striding to the door.

“And the same to you!” Gideon yelled back as the door slammed, cutting off his words.

He let out a breath and stared despairingly down at the bill in his hand. Damian was right about one thing: he was a fool.

Chapter 1

Fault Lines

Hatherley Hall, Little Valentine, East Sussex, 15th July 1816

Hetty sighed heavily and then gave a startled yelp as an apple hit her on the head.

“Ow! Cilly, you beast, that hurt,” she complained, rubbing the side of her head the apple had struck.

They were sitting in the garden of Hatherley Hall, home to the Dowager Duchess of Hawkney, who was an intimate friend of their grandmama. Sprawled on a picnic blanket under a large tree, each of them had a book in hand. Except Hetty had abandoned hers some time ago.

“You deserve it,” her sister said unrepentantly. “You’ve been insufferable all morning. If you are bored, find something to do.”

“I would, if I knew what that might be,” Hetty objected. “It’s just so dull since Hart and Angel left.”

Cilly glared at her. “Charming. They only departed this morning. I’m sorry my company is so deadly dull.”

“Cilly, you know I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that their lives are just beginning and they are free to do what they wish, to go where they please, and mine is…” Hetty drew in a deep breath and met Cilly’s concerned gaze. Her sister had far more reason to complain than she did. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m insufferable. Oh, come for a walk into town with me, there’s a darling. At least we might look at the shops and perhaps go down to the beach and have a paddle too.”

“It’s too hot,” Cilly said, pulling a face.

“Hardly, this is one of the first warm days we’ve had all year but it’s stuffy rather than hot. There’s no air. I’m sure it will feel fresher down by the shore. Please, please, sweet Cilly!”