Berry and Lady Berwick stepped out from behind the statue of a naked man killing a lion. Lady Berwick ran to her husband. Berry ran to Gideon.
“What a scene. I’m so glad you were with us,” she said with a tremor to her voice, and perhaps feeling the need to touch him to make certain he was unharmed. She took out her handkerchiefand dabbed it at the corner of his lip. “Oh, those fiends. They cut your lip.”
He took the handkerchief from her hand and glanced at the spot of blood on it. Hardly anything.
“I’ll be fine,” he assured her as she smoothed the lapels of his jacket and then fussed with his cravat before letting out a breath and taking a step back.
“Would you mind staying close to us for the rest of the evening, Mr. Knight? And riding home with us? Or did you bring your own carriage?”
“I brought my own, intending to follow you home. But I’ll dismiss my driver now and ride with you, if you don’t mind,” he said, turning to Lord Berwick.
The shaken lord nodded enthusiastically. “That would be most welcome.”
“However, I have not moved into my house on Duchess Square yet. Would you mind dropping me off at my club once we have Lady Berry safely delivered home?”
“Not at all, Knight. Glad to have you with us. You came to my notice because of your brains, but I am glad you also have the brawn to protect Berry.”
“And to protectyou,” Gideon said with a frown. “Hawthorne threatened you, as well.”
“Bah! He’s a drunken fool and won’t even remember what he said or did tonight.”
Gideon hoped that was true.
“Berry,” he said quietly, “do not forget that Bonham is right next door should you need assistance. Send Melton to alert him if you have the slightest concern.”
“I will, but you needn’t worry. Those oafs will go off to some disreputable haunt and not wake up until tomorrow afternoon.”
He expected she was right.
Although he had come out of the fight with little more than a harmless spot of blood to his lip, it took him a while to calm down, because they might have hurt Berry. But he finally did manage to relax, and the rest of the night went smoothly.
Gideon made a donation to the museum’s charity efforts, earning more gratitude from the director. “My wife and I are hosting a ball next month,” the man, who happened to be the Earl of Stanhope, mentioned. “Expect an invitation.”
“Thank you, my lord. I look forward to it,” Gideon said, doing his best to mask his surprise.
Berry lit up like a little beacon. She looked up at him, her expression one of jubilant pride.
“He is now my neighbor on Duchess Square,” she said to Lord Stanhope, gracing the man with one of her luminous smiles. “Send his invitation there…along with mine. That is, I hope I am invited.”
Stanhope laughed. “It would not be a party without you, my dear Lady Berry.”
Berry cast Gideon an impish grin when it was once again just the four of them standing together. “Hawthorne will be livid when he finds out it was his boorish actions that brought you to the notice of Lord Stanhope. And now you shall be invited to his ball while Hawthorne will be cut from the guest list, no doubt. Is it awful of me to cheer? But isn’t this the perfect comeuppance for him?”
Gideon smiled. “Yes, the best revenge.”
But this was also a watershed moment for him.
An earl had just invited him to a ball. No doubt the ladies on Duchess Square would all be invited, too. And Lord Berwick and his wife. He would have friends there to support him. He may even have a lord or two brave enough to acknowledge him, perhaps walk over and chat with him, or invite him to play cards.
Berry gave a light tug on his arm, her eyes big and shining as she grinned at him again. “A ball, Gideon. Your first. I shall have to teach you how to dance.”
He had been taking lessons from Miss Feswick, a tall, thin woman who was all about discipline and never smiled. But she knew everything there was to know about these ballroom dances and had taught him well.
But to have Berry in his arms?
Let her think he was an ignorant clot. He was never going to let on that he was proficient and could probably teachhera thing or two about the seductive power of a dance.
“That’s right,” he said, frowning thoughtfully. “I shall require a lot of instruction. When can we start?”
