Page 67 of Love Wasn’t Built in a Day

“A little,” she admitted, the words unsteady. “But only because I want you to.”

It was Gideon’s turn to burn, for his blood seemed to scald his veins, and he knew nothing but her touch would cure him. He prayed he was not being a fool, that they could find a way to marry, even if her father refused to give his consent, for he could not endure this torture for too long. Though that assumed he was not being a fool and that Hetty wished for a future with him. He needed to know that for certain.

A sound from the terrace, the indistinct murmur of voices drifted on the breeze, and Hetty frowned.

“Is someone else here?”

“Damian,” Gideon said offhandedly.

Hetty’s eyes grew very round. “With Cilly? Oh, my!”

“Hetty!” he complained. He was not done kissing her yet, but she leapt to her feet, about to hurry off, only to turn back to him. She bent, pressing her mouth to his, firm and ardent. She let out an unsteady breath as she broke the kiss, taking a step away.

“Tomorrow. Can you get away at lunchtime?”

Gideon nodded, though he could remember nothing of his schedule for the next day. Nothing else mattered more than seeing her again.

Her smile was swift and bright. “Excellent. Meet me on the beach, where Gee-Gee’s bathing huts are. I’ll bring a picnic.”

“Yes.”

He just gazed at her, wanting nothing more than to drink her in, to stay here in this lovely place and — “Well, don’t just sit there. You’ve left your wicked brother alone with Cilly!” she exclaimed, tugging at his hand.

Gideon allowed her to pull him to his feet.

“You just said how kind he was,” he grumbled, not ready for the interlude to end yet.

“To you,” she said with a snort. “Not to my innocent sister. She’s far too sweet natured to fend for herself with such a man.”

Suddenly a little alarmed himself, Gideon hurried after her.

Hetty almost ran up the steps to the terrace, uncertain if she was relieved or anxious at finding her sister alone.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

Cilly looked up from the book she was reading, the picture of innocence. “Who, dear?”

Hetty narrowed her eyes, hearing Gideon’s more measured tread as he made his way up the stairs.

“Rivington, obviously!”

“Oh. He went a little while ago,” Cilly said with a shrug.

“He just left?” A flicker of something uneasy niggled in the pit of Hetty’s stomach as Cilly returned her attention to her book. “Just like that.”

“Mmhmm.”

He left my beautiful sister alone when he might have stayed in this romantic spot and flirted with her—Hetty scowled. Her brain did not like the odds of that being true.

“How long was he here? Did he upset you?”

Cilly looked, blinking in confusion. “Upset me? Whatever do you mean?”

Hetty let out a breath of annoyance. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I mean, except—” Suddenly her attention snagged on the book Cilly was reading. It was a Gothic novel, the one that she’d been trying to read earlier. Cilly hated Gothic novels and yet she held the book open almost in the middle and — “Aha!”

Cilly leapt in alarm as Hetty snatched the book from her. “It’s upside down!” she said in triumph. Though what she felt so victorious about, she had no idea.

Cilly turned scarlet and snatched the book back.