Page 75 of Love Wasn’t Built in a Day

Hetty didn’t care a button for her father’s opinion, but her grandmother, he had surmised, was another thing entirely. According to Hetty, she was a formidable woman who did not suffer fools, but one who would be his ally if she liked him. Knowing he must impress the old lady was making him sweat, but he’d do his best for Hetty’s sake and hope the Dowager Duchess of Langley wasn’t up to date with his brother’s scandals.

“Hetty, do sit still,” Grandmama complained as she got up and went to the window for the third time. “It’s like sitting next to a grasshopper with you constantly bobbing up and down.”

“I’m not constantly bobbing,” Hetty reproached her.

“No, but when you’re not bobbing, you’re twitching,” Cilly chimed in with a smirk.

Hetty glared at her sister and returned to her seat, making a show of sitting down and smoothing out her skirts, placing her hands in her lap and not fidgeting. “Well, I am a little nervous, it’s true.”

“Why?” Grandmama Langley demanded, narrowing her eyes. “If this fellow is as fine as you think he is, why are you sat upon thorns?”

“I’m not sat upon thorns. I just know that he’ll want to make a good impression, and that will make him anxious and so… I just want you to like him,” she said with a sigh.

Grandmama’s rather austere features softened a degree, and she smiled. “Child, I will not go out of my way to dislike him. If he is everything you say he is, I am sure he’s a decent fellow. It’s just his brother—” she lamented with a pained expression. “I do not care that he is an architect, it is a perfectly respectable profession for a younger son. Of course, that he is working for Mr King is regrettable, but a young man must make his name. More illustrious clients will come.”

“Precisely,” Hetty said, cheering a little.

“Yes, dear, but his brother,” Grandmama said again, shaking her head.

Hetty exchanged a worried glance with Cilly, who rallied to help.

“You know, Grandmama, I think perhaps Viscount Rivington has turned over a new leaf. After all, he’s been here for much of the summer and there’s not been so much as a whisper of scandal about him.”

Grandmama gave Cilly a shrewd look and snorted. “One swallow does not a summer make, nor one fine day,” she quoted. “It will take a good deal more than a few weeks of not creating scandal for me to believe that young man has turned over a new leaf.”

Cilly turned back to Hetty and pulled a face.

Hetty sighed.

Finally, the door opened, and Howard preceded their guest. “Mr Bramwell for you, your grace.”

“Thank you, Howard. You may bring the tea tray,” Grandmama said, nodding regally.

Hetty prayed she would not play the autocratic duchess, a role she was more than adept at, but when she turned to see Gideon approaching, thought of any kind ceased to exist.

She let out a none too steady breath as she looked at him, for he looked… different. Gone were the slightly ill-fitting dark suit and matching waistcoat. His cravat, which was always a rather hasty looking affair, appeared to have been arranged by a valet of considerable talent, and the gorgeous deep cobalt silk waistcoat gave his grey eyes a slightly blue tint that made them a degree less serious than usual.

In all, he had never looked so handsome, and he took her breath away.

He smiled at Hetty before turning his attention to her grandmother and Cilly.

“Your grace, I was most grateful to receive your invitation. Thank you. Lady Henrietta, Lady Cecilia, I hope you are both well?”

Hetty and Cilly curtsied as her grandmother gave Gideon an appraising once over. He bore it well, and Hetty’s pride in him increased tenfold, for she knew he was nervous, but he did not show it.

“You’re more like your brother than I realised,” Grandmama said at length, which was not precisely the reaction Hetty had been hoping for.

“In looks only, ma’am,” he said, somehow giving the reply just the right amount of rueful amusement.

“Hmmm,” Grandmama Langley replied. “Well, sit down then, and tell me about your hotel.”

Hetty could have kissed her grandmother for that, for there was nothing more likely to put Gideon at ease than speaking of the project he was so proud of.

Relieved, she sat back, allowing herself to bask in Gideon’s cleverness as he explained the progress they had made and what they hoped to achieve in the coming weeks.

“And, of course, Lady Henrietta has been an invaluable source of guidance to me,” he said, accepting a Ratafia biscuit from the plate Hetty offered.

Grandmama’s eyebrows rose at this, and she gave Gideon an alert look of interest. “Has she indeed? How so?”