Page 36 of Love Wasn’t Built in a Day

Beneath the dark tailcoat, he wore a silk waistcoat of pale green, embroidered with tiny roses, and he had tied his neckcloth with a precision that must have taken him—or his valet—considerable time.

Gideon repressed a niggle of envy. It wasn’t as if he’d dress that way even if he could afford to, but his brother couldn’t bloody afford it either and still did so.

“Damian,” he said coolly. Both Ludlow and Ridley had told him about Damian’s visit to site, but he had not bothered returning his brother’s call, knowing he’d turn up of his own accord if he wished to.

“I visited your place of work the other day,” Damian replied, using the phrase, place of work, like it tasted unpleasant. It probably did to Damian, who had never done a day’s work in his life. Well, why would he, being a gentleman and all? Though how he paid his bills, Gideon had no clue. Well, except that sometimes he didn’t and people tried to get Gideon to cough up instead.

“So I hear.”

“But you had gone off on private business.”

“That’s what I told them,” Gideon agreed, returning his attention to the view. He was regretting his impulse to stand and watch the sea for a while before going home for the evening. If he’d just returned to his unappealing lodgings, he might not have had to deal with Damian.

“How was our dear mama?” he enquired sweetly.

Gideon shot him a hard look. “Don’t do that.”

Damian returned a reproachful expression. “Do what?”

“Take the piss. She’s sick. It’s not her fault.”

Damian shrugged, a hard set to his jaw. “Sick, evil, whichever excuse helps you to sleep at night, Deon, it’s all the same to me.”

“Did you want something?” Gideon turned to face his brother, folding his arms.

“You’re the one who's been chasing around trying to run me to ground,” Damian remarked, leaning on the rail beside Gideon and looking out to sea.

Gideon studied him for a moment, wishing he knew what the devil was he playing at. “You may have noticed I gave up. I wanted to know what you were playing at, coming here, but I decided I was better off not knowing. Whatever it is, just leave me out of it.”

Damian’s grey eyes were inscrutable.

“I mean it, Damian. This job means everything to me. If you screw it up, or put it at risk in any way, I’ll bloody kill you, no matter if it means up ending in the same bloody place as our mother.”

“Oh, you’ll not end there,” Damian said carelessly. “You can’t think I’d spend that kind of money on the pair of you?”

Gideon snorted, amused despite himself. “Christ, Damian, you are a heartless bastard.”

His brother, handsome and titled and clever, smiled beatifically back at him. “So they say, Deon. So they say.”

Damian’s eyes focused on something behind Gideon, his gaze sharpening for a moment before turning back to Gideon.

“I tell you what. I will do you a deal, brother mine. I promise I will not cause trouble for you, and I shall stay away from your precious hotel. All you need do is grant me one small favour.”

Gideon narrowed his eyes. Dealing with Damian was never a straightforward business. One always had to look for the catch. He only kept promises under certain conditions, a fact Gideon knew all too well. “What favour?”

Damian shrugged his elegant shoulders. “An introduction, that’s all. And before you accuse me of nefarious intentions, I swear to you, I have none. It’s only that the company here is of a respectable kind I am unfamiliar with, and so I am feeling a little bereft of friends.”

“And supposing I can offer such an introduction, and am allowed to make it, what guarantee do I have that you will continue to behave as you ought?”

“As I said,” Damian replied, his voice colder now. “I have no nefarious intentions, my word as a gentleman.”

Gideon suppressed a little niggle of guilt. Damian rarely invoked his honour, usually because he had no intention of keeping whatever promise he was making, but if he did, Gideon had never known him to betray it. An oath of that kind was binding to Damian, which was why he never spoke them unless he had to.

Well, the man had given his word as a gentleman, and it would be one less thing for Gideon to fret over if he knew Damian would not cause him any trouble.

“Very well, to whom do you want to be introduced?”

“Good day to you, Mr Bramwell.”