Her tiny fist clutched his from time to time, fevered, fragile, yet utterly unyielding. He did not let go until she did.
By dawn, her breathing grew easier. Exhaustion took her fully.
Gideon wondered if the worst of the storm had passed. He rose stiffly and stepped outside, head bowed with fatigue.
CHAPTER 21
Early next morning, Gideon rode to Caerleon. His thoughts lingered behind him, in that broken lodge where Catherine fought all night for her freedom. Every mile away from her attenuated the feeling of intense need. He resolved to deal with whatever required his attention and then return at once.
I will sit outside all day and the next if I must.
He heard the dry chuckle of his chief rival as he rode. The condescending tone that had always infuriated him as a boy. One of Aaron’s weapons to undermine Gideon and secure their father’s favor. Gideon shut out the sound.
Aaron is long dead. I won our life-long battle. I endured the longest.
When he entered Caerleon, he found Jeremy Bexley in the entrance hall, standing with McKay, their discussion low and hurried. Both looked up at once.
“Winchester!” Jeremy boomed with too much cheer. “I sought only a breakfast companion. McKay was kind enough to offer me diversion until you arrived.”
McKay inclined his head sharply in acknowledgement. Gideon’s mind was too full to give the exchange any undue attention.
“I must beg your pardon, Everdon,” he threw over his shoulder, shedding his coat and rolling up his sleeves. “I cannot play host today. My wife is unwell. I am keeping her at the lodge, where she is recovering.”
Jeremy’s expression softened.
“I am sorry, old man. I hope she makes a quick recovery. I have news on another matter that I think you will want to hear, though.”
Gideon felt tired and hungry. His mouth was dry, and he could think of nothing he wanted to do less than listen to gossip from his old friend.
“This isn’t the best time…” he began.
Then he remembered a conversation with Jeremy. Talk of rumors. His attention sharpened.
“Come with me, Everdon. McKay, is the breakfast room set?”
“Yes, Your Grace. It merely awaits you,” the butler intoned.
Gideon led the way to the breakfast room and took a seat. Jeremy helped himself to a cup of tea and a slice of toast as he sat opposite.
Gideon drummed his fingers on the table. “By all means, take your time,” he said impatiently.
“What I have to say is short. Depressingly short. But important nonetheless,” he slurped his tea, “I say, those scones do look rather appetizing. Do you mind if I…?”
Gideon flicked a hand angrily, as though swatting a fly. His eyes narrowed. Jeremy was never inclined much to seriousness, but he seemed to be babbling now. There were signs of nerves radiating from him.
“Whatever you are dancing around, Everdon, out with it, man.”
“Well. I traced the rumor that I’d been hearing. The one about…”
“I know what the rumor was about!” he snapped.
“Naturally.” Jeremy's smile was thin. “I followed it back. One source to another, the way these things go—a game of Chinese whispers with higher stakes. And somewhere along the chain,the story changed shape. It’s not about a missing heir any longer. The talk now is of twins. One a Duke. The other a pauper.”
The word landed like a stone dropped into still water. Gideon kept his face pleasant and empty. He wanted to shout, to shake him. Then he remembered the results he had achieved with his staff.
Kindness. Empathy. I do need him.
“ADuke and a pauper? How fanciful of them. Like something out of an Ann Radcliffe novel.”
