“It’s not that I hate the man...” A crease appeared between his brows. “Very well, I don’t like him much, but you are right, I should not have behaved so.” The palm on her back pulled her slightly closer. “But do you really intend to marry him? I know you were bored tonight.”
“We’re a good match.”
“You said that before.”
“Because it is true.”
“And that is all you want is it? A good match?”
“What more can a woman ask for?”
His expression grew serious, so serious in fact that she was mightily afraid something was severely wrong. The breath caught in her lungs.
“You, Cleo, should ask for everything.” A wry smile crossed his lips. “You certainly deserve it.”
Chapter Four
For the rest of the evening Gideon pondered his words to Cleo. He had not really considered them at the time. They had felt right and natural whilst he was holding her in his arms. But what the devil did he mean by them? What exactly did she deserve? All he knew was that seeing the boredom on her face when she was speaking with Harpy and the clumsy way he handled her as they danced riled him. How could Cleo consign herself to life with him?
His brother Harris approached and offered him a whisky. He took it gratefully. He wasn’t one for drinking a lot, but right now, he needed it. Cleo was right, his behaviour had been despicable. He’d been an arse. What was wrong with him?
“You’re even quieter than usual tonight,” his brother commented.
He shrugged. His brothers were used to him being the quietest of them all. Once, as a boy, he’d enjoyed being the youngest. He gotten all the attention from the nursemaids, and with a lot of older brothers to look after him, he got away with almost everything. That had all changed in his later years though, after the truth about his life had become known.
Not that Harris or any of the others would have any idea of the truth. And that was the way he wished to keep it. Some secrets were not meant to be told.
“How is Anna?” he asked, nodding toward his brother’s very pregnant wife. “I did not think you’d be coming home with her nearly due.”
“She insisted. She’s not been out since she started showing and, of course, no one here would make a fuss about her being out in her condition. But I would rather have kept her in London where all the doctors are. She tells me I’m making a fuss about nothing.”
“I’ll admit, I never thought you would marry, let alone become a father.”
Harris grinned. “Things change. Anna changed me, really. Made me see what I was missing out on.” He clapped a hand on Gideon’s back. “Not to worry, I’m sure you’ll catch up, little brother. Just have to wait for your balls to drop.”
Gideon shook his head, ignoring his brother’s teasing. “I don’t need to catch up, Harris. I’m quite enjoying my life alone. There’s certainly a lot to enjoy about the bachelor lifestyle.”
“We shall see.”
Gideon resisted the desire to wipe his brother’s smug smile off his face. Why must everyone be at him to marry? Was the only goal in life to be tied to someone forever? His brothers were happy, he’d give them that, but most of them had been through plenty of trials and tribulations to get to that point. Give him a stress-free life as a bachelor any day.
“Where are you planning to go after all this affair is over?” Harris asked.
“London I should think. I have a few invitations now everyone is gearing up for the season, and it won’t be long before I am made an uncle yet again, so it wouldn’t do to go far.”
Harris’ grin broadened. “It will not indeed.
Gideon stiffened when Lord St. Clair approached. He’d know the man would be in attendance, but they had been seated far apart and had avoided each other during the brandy and cigars. They usually did, considering the secret they shared. But now he seemed to be seeking him out.
Gideon gave him a cold glare.
“Harris. Gideon.” He greeted them with a nod. “I imagine everyone shall be gathering for another celebration soon enough.”
“We shall indeed. We only have another four weeks or so to go,” Harris concurred.
“Excellent. Another Cynfell man to the clan will be quite the blessing.”
Harris shook his head. “Or woman. We make excellent women, St. Clair, I’ll have you know.”
“We do indeed,” Gideon said tightly. He longed to hurry away. His desire to be around the man was about as much as his desire to see Cleo marry Harpy.
Around the same age as his father would have been had he still lived, St. Clair had aged well. Grey dusted his dark hair, giving him a debonair look that few men of his age had, and he was in excellent shape. He had been a friend of the family since before Gideon was born and most of his brothers were fond of him. If anyone noticed Gideon was not, they never said anything.
St. Clair gave a smile, making his well-trimmed moustache stretch. “Yes, I suppose you have no need of more boys considering there are so many already. But women are mightily expensive.”
“And worth every penny,” Anna put in as she came to her husband’s side.
Harris tucked her in against him and pressed a kiss to her temple. Gideon tried to look elsewhere. It was damned inconvenient, all these romantic couples everywhere.
“That you are, my love,” Harris agreed. “Is all well?”
“I was just going to pop out for some fresh air. I’m feeling a little flustered, but I did not want to concern you.”
Anna must have failed as furrows etched his brother’s face.
“All is well,” she insisted. “It’s just not easy to stay cool when one is carrying another human being.”
“Come then, let us get some fresh air.” Harris escorted his wife out of the room with haste.
“Harris will make quite the doting father.” St. Clair glanced at Gideon and a bolt of understanding shot between them.
He hated the man. Hated he had to be around him and pretend all was well, that he was comfortable with how things were.
“My brothers are all excellent fathers. They are few and far between these days it seems.”
St. Clair cleared his throat. “Gideon--”
“I should get another drink.”
He went to turn but St. Clair moved in front of him. “Gideon, I have many regrets in life. Please believe that.”
“I have no wish to hash over the past.”
“Actually, this is not about the past, it’s about the present.”
He scowled. “Oh yes?”
“Be careful of Niall Harper. Do not rile him.”
“Rile him? What on earth do you think he would do? Slap a glove across my face? That man is about as courageous as a mouse.”
“There is more to Harper than meets the eye,” St. Clair warned, his voice grave.
Gideon lifted a brow. He sincerely doubted that. “Are you to tell me exactly what?”
“Not here.”
“Are you being deliberately obtuse?”
“No.” St. Clair shook his head. “But trust me on this, you do not want to get involved with him. And if I were you, I would warn your friend away from him. He is not the sort of man a woman wants for a husband.”
Gideon blew out an exasperated breath. “Well if I’m to try to break up a would-be marriage, I must know why. Not that Cleo will ever listen to me.”
St. Clair jerked his head toward the billiards room. “Come with me.”
He could not help but think this was all some ruse so that they could talk. Since he’d discovered the truth, he’d never talked to the man alone. He avoided it, if truth be told.
“Very well.”
They entered the darkened room. Gideon propped himself up against the table and grabbed an errant ball, no doubt left by one of the boys, throwing it then catching it again.
St. Clair snatched the ball from him and placed it aside.
“What I know of Harper must stay between us. Not even your brothers should know
, unless they decide to become involved with him.”
“How do you know anything of him anyway?”
“I have had dealings with him.”
“What sort of dealings?”
St. Clair glowered at him. “I should clip you around the ear for being damned impudent.”
“And I would lay you out with a punch if you did.”
They faced off for a moment, shoulders squared. Finally, St. Clair backed away.
“Harper is a thief of the highest calibre.”
A laugh burst from Gideon.
“It’s true.”
“That man couldn’t steal a penny even if it was offered to him on a plate.”
St. Clair shook his head. “He’s a far cleverer man than you or I. It’s all a ruse.”
Gideon pinched the bridge of his nose. St. Clair had lost his senses. Harper was one of the most useless men he knew. There was no chance he had ever stolen anything and got away with it.
“I know this because I once helped him.”
He stared at the old man. “You helped him?”
St. Clair nodded solemnly. “I had little idea I was dealing in stolen goods, of course. But I have several friends in the diamond and jewellery business. I helped him dispose of some. It was only after I discovered those diamonds were stolen.”
“So why not go to the bobbies?”
“Unfortunately, Harper is in possession of some knowledge that would harm us both. He has used it to blackmail me ever since.”
“What knowledge?”
“The truth about your birth, Gideon. He knows it all. Not only that but he has tried to put me in the frame for a theft.”
“And why should I believe any of this?”
“Because it is the truth. Because I have no reason to tell you this other than to protect you and Cleo. And because I am your father.”
Chapter Five
“You’ve done well, my boy,” Cleo cooed to the gelding. After a decent morning’s ride on what was finally relatively dry ground, she’d have to ensure he was given a good rub down.
She put a hand to her neck and gave it a little crick. She would not mind one herself. Or at least a hot bath seeing as she had no one willing to rub her down, unlike these pampered horses. It had been a while since she’d ridden so hard or so long. But she’d felt the need to escape. Her evening with Niall was nearing, and she could not stand the constant coaching her mother was giving her to ensure she snagged that all important proposal.
How weary it was for everyone’s expectations to be hanging upon her.
“I thought I might find you here.”
She whirled away from the horse, her heart giving a little bounce of excitement.
Foolish heart.
“What are you doing here?”
Gideon stepped into the stables and came to her stall. He must have ridden over too as his hair was a little mussed and when she glanced down, she noted a little mud covering his trousers.
To think she had not even considered what she might look like. She was wearing one of her riding dresses but certainly not her best and her hat was several seasons old. Her hair was likely stuck out at all sorts of angles. Cleo resisted the desire to pat it down.
“Did you call at the house?”
“No, I saw you riding up to the stables so I thought I’d catch you here.”
One of the stable hands led in Gideon’s horse.
“Could you see Gem gets a good rub down.”
“Of course, milady.”
“Shall we?” She indicated out of the stables.
“Actually, I could do with a private word.”
Brows raised, she shrugged. How mysterious he was being. “Let us take a quick turn about the garden. Though I must go in and change shortly. I’m quite muddy.”
He ran his gaze over her in a way that had her tingling from head to toe. “You look very well to me.”
A knot wedged itself in her throat so she hastened out of the stables in a bid to get some fresh air and not look like a fool in front of the stable hand. Gideon followed closely behind.
She led him past the stables to the bridge that crossed the River Avon as it wound past their property. They paused there, and she leaned on the stone to watch the fast flowing water dash over the weeds that lay like mermaid’s hair on the river bed.
Gideon turned and leaned back on the wall, his arms folded. “It’s a pleasant day.”
“It is. The first one we’ve had in a while.”
“The sort of day we’d have used well in the past.”
She smiled. “Yes, we would have been in the woods for most of the day. Or playing stick racing here. Do you recall? I always beat you.”
He chuckled. “Nonsense. You always chose your sticks poorly.”
“How dare you.” She glanced around but there were no sticks to be found on the bridge itself. She stalked off onto the grass and found a suitable one then plucked it up. “This,” she declared, “is a perfect racing stick. I am excellent at choosing sticks.”
He shook his head and marched down to join her. Plucking the stick from her hands, he studied it with great consideration, turning it this way and that. He handed it back.
“That is a terrible stick.” He knelt down and picked up another that was hardly any different from hers. “Now this is the perfect racing stick.”
“We shall see.” They dashed up to the bridge. “I’ll set the race. You always did like to cheat.”
“I was always a gentleman,” he declared with mock disgust.
“Ready, set, go.”
They dropped the sticks and dashed to the other side, leaning over to watch them come out from under the bridge. One stick came, followed closely by the other.
“There, I win!” She grinned.
Gideon shook his head but beamed at her. His smile set her heart a flutter. He was so handsome when he was not brooding or getting annoyed with Niall or her.
“That was my stick.”
“It certainly was not.” Though secretly she admitted that it could have been either of theirs. “You’re a bad loser, Gideon Cynfell.”
“Very well. You are the queen of stick racing. I take back every bad word I said about your stick racing skills.”
Cleo laughed. “Excellent.”
They rested against the bridge again, this time both leaning over to look at the river. Her father’s land stretched off into the distance. Here, around the river, it was flat from where it had been much wider many hundreds of years ago. Now the river was only around twelve feet wide. Her home had been built not far from the river’s edge at the time but the waters now flowed quite a distance from it. It was beautiful and peaceful and she’d miss it once she was married.
“Now, will you tell me why you are being so mysterious? What do you need to speak to me about that calls for privacy?”
He turned to face her, forcing her attention away from the river. “How well do you know Harper?”
Inside, she grimaced. She wished he would leave it alone. It was hard enough battling her own mind let alone fighting with Gideon to convince him she would be just fine married to Niall Harper.
“As well as you do, I suspect.”
“So you have not really spent any time alone since...well, since, he became interested in you?”
“Certainly not. What do you take me for?”
“Well, you’re alone with me.” He flashed a wicked grin for a moment before it vanished.
“You are different. We’re very old friends, and anyway this is the country. There is little scandal to be had on a bridge in the middle of my father’s land.”
“You’d be surprised.”
His voice was dark and far too intriguing. What on earth could one get up to on a bridge in the middle of the countryside? She shook her head.
“Stop distracting me.”
“Do I distract you?” He came a little closer, just enough so that his waistcoat brushed her arm. She straightened and made a gap between them.
<
br /> “I’m not sure what game you are playing, Gideon, but I’m not finding it all that amusing.”
“Forgive me.” He drew off his hat, pushed a hand through his hair and replaced it. “What I meant to ask, is have you heard of Harper being involved in anything...illegal?”
“Illegal?” she spluttered. “Niall?”
“Yes.”
“Niall?”
“Yes, Cleo. Niall Harper. The man who is soon to be your fiancé.”
“Of course not.”
She heard him draw in a long breath then exhale it. “I know this is hard to believe—trust me, I had a time of it myself—but Harper is involved in some very dangerous business. If you can find any way of getting out of your agreement, you must.”
“Dangerous business?”
“Yes.”
“So, let me make sure I understand this. I am to call of an engagement, which, by the way, has not happened yet, because you believe Niall—of all people—is involved in dangerous business.”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me anything more?”
“There are people involved whom I might put in danger.”
“So I am to just take your word, is that it?”
“I thought you trusted me.”
“Well, I might have done had you not behaved like an ogre toward him last night. Really, what had the man ever done to you to be treated so?”
He began to pace across the bridge, back and forth. “I shall admit I have never felt charitable toward Harpy, but I know this to be the truth. The person who told me so is an excellent source and I—” he paused “—I do trust him.”
She grabbed his arm. Something had him agitated, and she had never seen him quite like this before. “Tell me the truth, what is going on?”
“This is the truth. But you must not tell anyone. Not even your parents.”
“I am to tell them I cannot marry Niall without a reason?”
“Yes.”
“My parents will never accept that.”
“They must. For your sake.”
“Gideon,” she said through clenched teeth. “You can trust me not to say a word, but please tell me what you believe Niall has done?”
His nostrils flared a little when she used Harper’s name. “I don’t believe anything. I know.”
The Cynfell Brothers Page 69
