Page 83 of Love Wasn’t Built in a Day

“Bramwell, no, I—” Ridley said, terror in his eyes as the implications of being handed to the once notorious crime boss became a reality.

“With pleasure, Mr Bramwell,” Ludlow said, hauling him towards the hut before he could speak another word of protest.

Gideon wiped his hands and turned back to Mark, who looked scared to death.

“Why?” he asked the lad. “You had a future here, you’ve got skills. You could have made something of yourself.”

Mark swallowed. “Blackmail,” he said, shaking so hard his teeth chattered. “I didn’t want to, M-Mr Bramwell, I swear it. He didn’t give me no choice. I was stupid—gambling—I couldn’t pay. I’m sorry.”

Gideon regarded him pityingly. “There’s always a choice, but you’ll get your chance to put your case to Mr King. He’s not as unreasonable as you might suppose. My advice is to tell him the absolute truth. You might get lucky.” Gideon turned to Mr Barlow. “Take him to get cleaned up and then bring him back here. We don’t want Mr King to think the circus is in town.”

Barlow nodded. “Right you are, Sir, and well done, my lady. That were a clever ruse.”

Hetty nodded but could take no pleasure in their congratulations as they led Mark away. He looked utterly miserable but resigned to his fate and put up no further fight.

Hetty went to Gideon, putting her hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Gideon. I know you needed to catch them, but… well, it’s horrid. I don’t think I should like to be a lady detective after all.”

Gideon returned a rueful smile. “You cannot know how relieved I am to hear that, love.”

Hetty curled her fingers about his and squeezed. “Oh, don’t worry. I shall find other ways to turn your hair grey.”

He laughed, gazing at her fondly. “You’re like the paint powder, did you know that, exploding in my face and turning everything rainbow coloured when I least expect it.”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” she said a little unsteadily, amazed she could speak at all in the wake of such a delightful compliment. At least—she thought it was a compliment.

“No, my dreadful girl, it’s not bad at all,” he replied with a smile, and raised her hand to his lips.

Chapter 19

A Proper Foundation

All Saints' Church, Little Valentine, East Sussex, 11th August 1816

“If you touch that cravat one more time, I shall throw you through that lovely stained-glass window before us and to the devil with the consequences,” Damian growled irritably.

“You’ve done it up too tight. I can’t bloody breathe,” Gideon complained, resisting the urge to tug at it again, for Damian did look like he was losing patience. Though, come to think of it, perhaps his lack of breath might have something to do with the rate at which his heart was hammering in his chest.

Gideon fought and lost the urge to fidget, turning to Damian once more. “What time is it?”

“Still half past ten.”

“Bloody hell.”

Damian pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is there some unwritten rule I have never heard of that insists prospective bridegrooms turn into witless idiots?” he demanded.

“Yes, probably,” Gideon replied crossly, and then stilled, for she was there, in the doorway of the church. The sunshine that had deigned to brighten their day backlit her, and she simply glowed. There were no explosions of colour today, no rainbows surrounding her, but a golden light that put him in mind of angels and holy visitations.

She was hardly an angelic sort of girl, he knew, but she was a miracle of sorts, and he held his breath as she made the way down the aisle to him, praying he would not wake up.

The Duke of Hawkney had agreed to stand in for her father and walk her down the aisle, though he’d not been the least bit happy about it. His grandmother, however, had blackmailed the poor fellow, telling him that when the scandal broke, he could choose to support her, or the Duke of Langley, but not both. Not being a fool, Hawkney had sided with his grandmother.

That didn’t mean he was pleased about it.

Hetty didn’t care, clearly, for her smile lit up the entire church to such a degree that even Hawkney looked amused and a degree less frosty than one might have expected.

“Congratulations, Deon,” Damian whispered as Hetty drew near.

Gideon could not look away from his prospective bride, but he smiled, a ridiculous smile that began so deep in his heart only the smallest portion of it was visible. “Thank you, Damian. I owe you a great debt.”