“Everdon… will need to be on his best behavior,” Aaron said with a wry grin.
“He will be, if he cares anything for Bella. Which I believe he does—if I am any judge at all.”
“I have never seen him so devoted to any one particular woman, certainly.”
He pursed his lips thoughtfully.
“Adinner,” he repeated slowly, “yes. That might serve. And it would reflect well upon us. Another example to the jackanapes that call themselves society that we are not hiding, not skulking.”His mouth curved faintly. “Besides, I would not see the girl in despair. Very well, Catherine. We shall host it.”
Her eyes widened, then warmed. “We will? Truly?”
“Truly,” he said, and there was an almost boyish light in his expression. “Draw up the invitations and give them to Mr. McKay for immediate delivery.”
“Mr. McKay?” she said, gently, thinking of Aaron’s refusal to use titles when it came to his servants.
“Mr.,” he echoed. “It suits him.”
She smiled, seeing her influence upon him and feeling immensely flattered. More granite chipped away from Aaron’s walls, revealing the true man beneath.
He kissed her, softly but enough to light a fire within her.
Catherine felt her heart lift. For a moment, she glimpsed not the guarded, secretive man who haunted her dreams, but the boy she had once known. The boy who had smiled at her in stolen hours, who had once seemed to belong wholly to her.
It steadied her, warmed her in ways she did not dare name.
Gideon strode through the entrance of Spencer’s and was greeted by a steward.
“Is Lord Everdon here?” he asked.
He had already been to Everdon Grange, some five miles distant from his own house, and discovered that Jeremy was in town.
“He is in the private lounge on the third floor, Your Grace,” the steward replied.
Gideon assaulted the stairs, taking them two at a time. The notion of a dinner did not displease him. Indeed, the prospect of appearing in society, with Catherine shining at his side, filled him with a strange mixture of pride and unease. Pride, for she was radiant, and every eye would be upon them. Unease, for every eye meant every whisper, every chance that the wrong word might unmask him.
Still, I agreed without argument. There is definitely a benefit to us in the notion, even if it is a risk to me personally.
The truth was that Catherine had asked, and he found himself unable to deny her.
The presence of Aaron over his shoulder, the snigger, and the sneering voice that came out when he was doing anything thatwent against the Spartan training imposed by their father, was a buzz. It was a fly, flitting about his head. He found that he could silence it, though he still felt the ghost watching him, eyes cold and hard.
Gideon had gone in search of Jeremy to personally deliver the invitation to dinner—but with another motive lurking beneath that one.Suspicion. Jeremy had been too watchful of late, too quick with his remarks, too ready to hint at things Gideon could not allow to be spoken.
Arriving at the door to the private lounge on the third floor, he hesitated.
He thought through what he intended to say.
Jeremy had known Aaron. Gideon would rather have abandoned him as a friend; none of his other friends had known Aaron. But Jeremy had made it impossible by imposing himself on Gideon’s company at the club. To reject Aaron’s schoolmate would have drawn attention—despite their lack of a personable acquaintanceship. It might have seemed a change of behavior that would have been wondered at.
So instead, I welcomed into my circle a man who knew Aaron better than most and is now close enough to see the differences. A big risk.
Turning the handle, he stepped into a dimly lit, smoke-filled room. Jeremy sat by the smoldering fire. He was alone, a glass ofbrandy dangling from his fingers. A bottle, almost empty, in the other hand. He looked up with eyes bleary from drink.
“Jeremy,” Gideon said curtly.
Jeremy blinked up at him, attempted a smile, and sloshed the remains of his brandy.
“Ah, His Grace. Or should I say…” He leaned forward with a conspiratorial slur, “…General?”
