“If you hit him, it is Berry who will be hurt most.”
“I know. I was merely going to intimidate him, not actually lay a hand on him.”
Lady Miranda cast him a stern look. “It is all the same. Whether you hit him or not, he will have won. Isn’t it the height of hypocrisy? We all detest Hawthorne, and yet most of these guests would consider him a better match than you for their daughters.”
“Lady Berry’s guests have made that quite clear. Hawthorne was not the only one to snub me.”
“I’m sorry for it. You seem to be a decent fellow. Lord Berwick thinks very highly of you.”
“Then I am honored,” Gideon said, for he thought very highly of Lord Berwick as well.
“One other thing, Mr. Knight,” Lady Miranda said, once again taking hold of his forearm when his gaze darted to Berry and Hawthorne dancing.
“Yes?”
She and her niece grinned at him. “We are not sorry we made Berry hold our tea society meetings at her house this past month so we could watch you shirtless. But she absolutely refuses to tell us what is that dark patch on your upper arm. Is it something wicked and dreadfully shocking?”
He laughed and shook his head, appreciating that some of Berry’s friends were nice. “It is a dragon tattoo, that’s all. No significance other than an old man came around to my club, obviously frail and hungry, but too proud to beg for food. So I had him draw the dragon on my arm. He comes around weekly now, and I pay him for every worker of mine who decides they need one, too. He’s quite the artist and can draw anything requested. One man had a sea battle drawn on his back—frigates, cannon bursts, sails catching the wind, and roiling waves. Not sure what the point of it was, since he could not see the masterpiece. But that old man surely was proud of his work.”
“That is remarkably kind of you,” Gwenys said.
He shrugged. “I know what it means to be hungry and destitute.”
Lady Miranda smiled at him. “It seems our friend, Fiona, chose the perfect buyer for her home. She must have seen that kindness in you and known you would make a good neighbor for us.”
“I hope that proves true,” he said, and meant it, for these ladies on Duchess Square were proving kinder and more accepting of him than he’d ever expected.
But any feeling of warmth soon faded as Hawthorne and a few of his boorish friends passed by him again and tossed cutting remarks.
Again, he cared not a rat’s arse what they thought of him. But he did not want his continued presence hurting Berry’s charity cause.
When he rose to leave, since this afternoon affair was nearing its end anyway, Lord Berwick drew him aside and insisted on his staying. “Please, Knight. This is important to me.”
“All right,” Gideon said with a nod, and waited patiently while Berry bade the last of her guests farewell.
She had an exceptionally sweet smile for each of them.
That smile. Would she bestow one on him, too?
He did not know why he ached for it.
He stepped forward once the last of the attendees had gone.
“Oh, you are still here,” Berry remarked, a little surprised.
“Lord Berwick asked me to remain behind. Do you know what this is about?”
“No, not a clue. I wonder what he has in mind.”
As her staff began to clear away the tables, Gideon escorted her into her study, where Lord and Lady Berwick were awaiting them.
Lord Berwick had taken possession of the donations pouch and was busy tabulating the receipts as they walked in. “You did very well, Berry. In fact, you exceeded your target.”
Her eyes lit up as she took a seat in one of the cushioned floral chairs beside Lady Berwick. “Really? I hoped I would. I tried to keep count as I went along but the task was in vain. I was constantly distracted.”
“Not all of the pledges might be honored,” Gideon warned, moving to the side and propping his shoulder against the hearth mantel. He had made note of those who could not be trusted, and knew there would likely be about a five-hundred-pound shortfall.
Lord Berwick nodded. “How much do you think I ought to deduct from the total?”
