Chapter Ten
Ash found hisbrother in his chamber, dressing for dinner.
Following his uncomfortable interview with Devereaux Winter—which somehow, remarkably, had not led to blows—Gill was the one person he needed to see more than any other. His betrothal to Pru was to be announced this evening at dinner, and Ash felt like the world’s greatest scoundrel for stealing the lady his brother had wanted to make his duchess. It was justified, for he loved her. But he also loved his brother.
Gill took one look at Ash, and an unspoken understanding passed between them.
“That is all, Martin,” his brother dismissed his valet.
The servant quietly took his leave. Ash waited for the door to click closed before taking a deep breath and beginning his confession. And apology.
“I am in love with Pru,” he said baldly.
Simultaneously, Gill said, “You have fallen in love with Miss Prudence Winter.”
Ash’s brows slammed together, for this was not what he had expected.
Not at all.
Not even close.
But then, his brother did have a propensity to surprise him when he least expected it. Gill was also frightfully observant. Deuced insightful. Not being overly talkative gave him plentiful opportunity to watch everyone around him.
“How did you know?” he asked.
“You are my brother,” Gill told him, as if that simple statement was explanation enough.
Another spear of guilt stabbed him. “How long have you known?”
“Since our arrival here.” Gill faced him, unsmiling, and tied a simple knot in his cravat himself.
“Since our arrival,” Ash repeated, his mind working to make sense of the revelation. “But what of the wager? You told me you wanted to make Pru your duchess.”
“I told you I wanted to find my duchess here, and that I was willing to accept your aid,” Gill countered. “We both know I am as useless as a ham when it comes to the fairer sex. You, however, were the one who suggested Miss Prudence.”
“I was not,” Ash denied. Gill had been the one to say Ash should begin with the eldest Winter. He was sure of it.
“You could not stop staring at her from the moment you first saw her,” Gill said. “I had hoped the two of you might suit. You simply needed the proper motivation. A wager seemed just the thing.”
“The devil.” Ash was not certain if he should be insulted, outraged, or pleased. “You mean to tell me that this whole time, whilst I thought I was helping you to find a bride,you, my virginal, saintly brother, were actually helpingmeto acquire a bride?”
Gill smiled at last.
Actually, he grinned, the blighter.
“Yes.”
“Confound it, Gill.” He settled upon outrage for the moment. “Have you any idea how guilty I felt this last fortnight, believing I was lusting over the woman you wanted to make your duchess?”
“You ought to have done,” his brother said, not even a modicum of contrition in his voice. “And if you had indeed been lusting after the woman I want to make my duchess, I would have planted you a facer.”
That gave Ash pause. “The woman you want to make your duchess? Are you saying thereissomeone else you want to wed in attendance at this house party?”
“There may be,” Gill said.
“Not the hellion,” Ash said, his ire replaced by misgiving. Two more disparate souls could not possibly exist than his quiet, reserved brother and the flame-haired hoyden.
Gill finished tying his cravat. “I have no notion of whom you are speaking. I do trust, however, that you would not refer to your future wife’s sister in such terms.”
