Page 74 of Love Wasn’t Built in a Day

“Not fine.” Damian folded his arms, looking rather put out. “You have just benefited from many years of experience, and you look splendid. You look like a young man on the up, one with breeding and refinement, who may not have as much blunt as he would wish to provide for his prospective bride, but one who will succeed come what may.”

Gideon looked doubtfully at his reflection. His cravat was so impeccably tied he feared moving his head in case he damaged it, and his usually black, grey or charcoal waistcoat had been swapped for one of deep blue, embroidered all over with little black swallows. Damian had even lent him one of his precious coats, and it hugged his shoulders, making him look… well, rather fine, actually. “This outfit says all that?”

“It does not merely say it, but proclaims it,” Damian replied pompously.

Gideon snorted and saw the answering gleam in his brother’s eye. “Arse.”

“Philistine.”

Gideon laughed. “I fear you are right, but I must make haste, whatever the truth of it.”

Damian nodded as Gideon gathered his hat and gloves. “Have you asked her to marry you?”

There was a somewhat diffident note to the question that made Gideon pause, regarding his brother with more scrutiny that he might otherwise have done. “Not in so many words, but we have spoken of the future.”

Damian nodded, perching on the edge of the window seat in his bedroom, and giving a brusque wave. “Run along then, Deon, slay the dragon and win the fair lady.”

“I’m not sure the dowager would approve of such a comparison, but I’ll do my best. Oh, Damian,” he added, suddenly remembering he’d not had the chance to ask about Cilly, and whatever had passed between them on the terrace.

Damian looked up expectantly.

Gideon hesitated. He was on good terms with Damian for the first time in an age and he did not want to damage their delicate entente, but he’d promised Hetty.

“Spit it out,” Damian said dryly, apparently expecting the worst.

“Lady Cecilia.” Gideon watched him carefully, to his surprise noting the slight stiffening of Damian’s shoulders.

“What of her?”

“I don’t precisely know,” Gideon admitted. “Only she appeared a trifle… discombobulated after you left her on the terrace. Hetty was worried.”

“She need not be. Is that all?” he demanded, the frigid reply making Gideon’s eyebrows go up.

Hetty had been correct, he realised. Something must have happened. “Damian, I have no desire whatsoever to interfere in your life—”

“Oh, good,” Damian muttered darkly.

Taking a breath, Gideon soldiered on. “But I hope to make Hetty my wife, which means Cilly will be my sister. Don’t… don’t trifle with her.”

“Say what you mean, Deon,” Damian said, surging to his feet, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Gideon sighed. “Very well. Don’t ruin Lady Cecilia. I should hate to have to call you to account for it.”

Damian looked directly at him; some emotion Gideon could not decipher flickered behind his eyes. “I give you my word; I will not ruin Lady Cecilia. Does that suffice, Gideon, or would you like it in writing? In blood, perhaps?”

Gideon smiled, aware of the prickling sensation tiptoeing down his back that suggested Damian was on the edge of a spectacular outburst. Knowing this was never a good thing, he kept his voice neutral.

“Thank you, Damian. To be truthful, I never thought it, but I promised Hetty I would speak with you.”

“And now you have,” Damian replied pleasantly, returning his smile with one that showed too many teeth.

“And now I have. Thank you for—” He swept a hand over his elegant ensemble.

Damian snorted. “You’re welcome. Good luck, Deon.”

Gideon smiled at him and then saw himself out.

Checking his watch, he hurried back through the town and up the hill towards the Hall, eager to see Hetty again, if not precisely keen to meet her grandmother. In the past week they’d only met briefly, unsatisfying visits with Hetty’s sister or her maid accompanying them. When Hetty had suggested he come to tea with her grandmother—well, he’d not known quite what to make of it, except that he’d better not mess it up.