“No, it is up to you to decide. This isyourhouse. You need to like what’s being done.” She handed the list to him. “Then we will select the right stain for the oak floors. And I have an idea for the entry hall.”
“Sounds perfect.”
She laughed incredulously. “But you haven’t heard my idea yet.”
“I have no need. I trust you.”
“I think you have reached the limit of your endurance on decorating choices in a day. May we resume tomorrow? What time will the painters arrive with their samples?”
Gideon shrugged. “What time would you like them here?”
“Well, you would need to be here, too. I don’t mind making my recommendations, but you must approve them. This is your house and you will be the one living in it,” she repeated.
But he wanted this to be her house, too.
He shook out of the thought, annoyed with himself that it kept slipping through his barricades.
Berry was not for him. It was that two-worlds problem again.
He could not live like a saint. She could not live like a sinner. She could never be his.
Shouldnever be his.
Since Hawthorne’s carriage was still on the street, Gideon returned Berry to her home by way of the stone wall between their houses. He waited for her to scamper inside before he scaled the wall and returned to his kitchen, where Bonham was still struggling with the pump. “Cap it for now and work on something else. I’ll deal with young Henry. That lad is going to get himself hanged before he reaches his next birthday if he doesn’t mend his ways.”
“I’ll go with you. I can deal with Henry.”
Gideon shook his head. “No, I need you to stay here. That arse, Hawthorne, is still lurking on Duchess Square. Keep an eye on him, especially if you notice Berry stepping out of her home. I don’t know what he is scheming to do, but I certainly don’t trust him.”
“Is he plotting something mad, do you think? Is he fool enough to abduct her?”
“I did not think he had the bollocks to try, but he might if he’s grown that desperate. Perhaps I ought to have a word with him.”
“I’ll come with you,” Bonham said with a nod. “The cur might think to draw a weapon on you, but he won’t try it if he has two of us to take down.”
“All right.” Gideon did not mind having his trusted companion to back him up. As Bonham had said, Hawthorne might reach for his pistol if facing him alone. That snake was just the sort to shoot a man in the back once he’d turned away.
But to take himandBonham on? The man was too cowardly to try it.
Hawthorne’s driver eyed them warily as they approached but did nothing more than study them.
Up close, the carriage appeared to have seen better days. There were scratches and gouges on the door. The leather on the driver’s seat was torn.
Gideon threw open the door and caught Hawthorne by surprise. He reached in and dragged the cur out, catching a strong whiff of scotch on the man’s breath as he cried out in alarm. “Hodgkins! Hodgkins! Shoot the man!”
But Bonham already had his pistol out and aimed at the driver, who did not seem inclined to forfeit his life on behalf of his wastrel employer. Instead of reaching for his weapon, he raised his hands in the air. “I ain’t making a move, sirs. No need to point that pistol at me.”
“A wise choice,” Bonham said, “but keep your hands raised.”
“Aye, sir. As ye wish.”
Gideon concentrated on Hawthorne, removing a pistol out of the lip of his boot and another on his person. “Now you and I shall have our little talk.”
“I have nothing to say to you! You are nothing but a low, wretched creature. How dare you think you are better than us? My friends and I shall show you. We’ll have you on your knees and licking our boots.” Each angry word came out slurred, for Hawthorne was deep in his cups, and it was not even noon yet.
“Are you through? My turn now.” Gideon grabbed Hawthorne by the lapels. “Keep away from Lady Berry.”
Hawthorne cursed at him and then snorted. “Who are you to tell me what to do?”
