Gideon moved on, ignoring Hawthorne as the man began to toss accusations about his being cheated at the Musket Club. A lethal look from Gideon silenced him quickly, but the clot seemed to be following him around and looking for more opportunities to cause mischief.
Was his animosity due to the gambling debt he had accumulated? Or was this mostly about Berry?
Gideon ran an honest club, and Hawthorne ought to be thanking him and Joss for containing him and keeping him from digging a deeper hole of debt for himself.
Regarding Berry, Gideon had made no move on her. Nor would he ever.
Perhaps it was that the sluggard did not like the idea of an outsider intruding in these Society affairs.
Well, he did not like Hawthorne, either.
Nor did he expect to make a habit of attending these suffocating affairs. This was the first and probably the last time he would ever be invited.
He settled at Berry’s table to chat with the Berwicks and the Lawson ladies, Miranda and her niece, Gwenys, who proved to be quite genial.
Gwenys was to make her debut next year, although she was of age and could have made her come-out this year. But she could not stop gawking at Gideon or giggling every time he turned to her in conversation, so he thought Lady Miranda was wise to keep her niece off the Marriage Mart for a little while longer in order to gain sufficient maturity.
Berry returned, gathered the papers she had left by her plate, and then took a deep breath. “Here we go. Wish me luck,” she said, casting him a dimpled smile.
She did not need luck. Gideon knew she was going to charm everyone.
He listened attentively as she gave her speech and then began her appeal for donations.
Hawthorne stood up and pledged one hundred pounds that Gideon knew he did not have. The wastrel viscount would renege on his pledge when it came time to collect. The man made Gideon’s blood boil, and he had to curl his hands into fists to keep calm when Berry cast the wretched boor a breathtaking smile and thanked him.
Others stood up next, some handing over banknotes on the spot and others pledging donations to be delivered to Berry before the end of the week.
Since many of the gentlemen frequented his clubs, Gideon knew the ones who would honor their pledges and those who would not. Fortunately, most would. But there were a few bounders like Hawthorne who would disappoint Berry.
Not that it mattered.
Gideon was determined to make up any shortfall.
Berry next moved on to her small auction, thanking those who had donated items for it. He was happy for her when the auction proved a success.
He was also surprised by the number of guests who participated. Well, notallof them were insufferable fools. It appeared most genuinely wanted to help out a good cause.
Also, Berry knew what she was doing. She was not only honest and sweet, but also intelligent.
He thought of her as a rose in her garden, one that had beautifully blossomed under the capable guidance of Lord Berwick, a decent and honest fellow. Berry’s father had put his trust in the right friend to care for his daughter.
It took Berry the entire afternoon to reach her goal, but in between her speeches and coaxing, there was more food and entertainment.
Still not enough food to feed a rabbit. Or an ox like him, Gideon mused.
An orchestra began to play, and there was a small dance floor erected for those who wished to dance.
Gideon knew better than to ask Berry. To be seen with her was bad enough. To be seendancingwith her would damage her reputation and hurt her future charity undertakings.
Hawthorne had no such hesitation, and asked her to dance. She did not appear pleased, but reluctantly agreed.
The snake cast Gideon a triumphant sneer.
Gideon was ready to smash his fist into Hawthorne’s nose.
Lady Miranda happened to be seated beside him and grabbed his arm when he started to rise. “You do realize he is purposely riling you.”
He sighed and eased back in his chair. “Yes.”
