“I’ll escort you safely up,” Marshall said.
The gentlemen were halfway out of their seats when a footman came in with a message for Marshall.
“Crisis in the stables,” he said. “Something every day is my lot. Can you find your room, Miss Selwyn?” he asked, casting a wary glance at Gideon.
“I am certain I can manage. The house is rather large and confusing, but I’m learning my way,” she replied.
They watched Marshall leave.
“May I offer myself as a substitute?” Gideon asked over Tavernash demanding port at the far end of the table. Her smile was his reward. He ought to suggest that she have more care for her safety with men she hardly knew, but the trust he saw in her warmed his heart. He offered his arm.
“Where are the servants’ stairs from here?” she asked when they exited the room. When he paused without answering, she added, “I recall it is easier for you than the great marble stairs.”
Gideon stared into eyes as warm as they were deep blue. A man could lose himself in this woman’s gracious care. He swallowed his pride. “You are correct.” He turned them in the direction she requested.
A giggle escaped her. “Me, too, to be honest. A lady is meant to float, but I live in terror one slip will send me tumbling down them.”
He led the way and took the stairs above her. It was the incorrect manner, a gentleman being required to go behind lest the lady take a tumble, but he remembered the impact of following her swaying body up before and thought it prudent to spare himself the view.
“That man is rather rude,” she remarked when they started up.
“Tavernash? Yes. Lord of the manor—or so he thinks.”
“Even dukes are not exempt from basic manners, or shouldn’t be. Is he actually the heir presumptive?”
No. Not even close. But what do you tell her, Kendrick?“Since my brother is very much alive, healthy, and young, Tavernash’s ambitions are irrelevant.”
“Is he truly? I’m glad. My cousin and his friends have been positively ghoulish about it,” she said.
He stopped in his climb. “What do you mean, ghoulish?”
She described the sorts of nonsense foolish young men got up to. The betting books at White’s neither surprised nor shocked. Her next words, however, sent him reeling.
“Eustace’s latest nonsense is, ‘What if the…’ Oh my. His words about you are unkind,” she said.
“I’m used to it. Finish what you meant to say.”
“He and his disreputable friends have speculated no end of possible ends for the poor duke. The worst is that his brother murdered him to somehow get his hands on the estate.”
“His brother.” It wasn’t a question.
“You,” she whispered. “I told you they are horrid. It is nonsense of course, unkind but nonsense. Loose talk.”
Gideon knew better than most the harm loose talk could have. Would anyone believe he killed Phillip? He prayed not.Even if a few are gullible enough to believe it, how is that any worse than my current position? It can do no real damage.At least, he hoped not.
As they continued on their way, Miss Selwyn expanded on her cousin’s antics. “It’s why they followed Uncle Ludlow here, of course. They hoped to get a look at Mr. Tavernash, and at you. They think clues will help them win bets.”
He would have to keep an eye on young Selwyn and his friends before they caused real trouble. He fell silent, and Miss Selwyn darted concerned glances at him when they reached her floor.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Kendrick. I thought you ought to know,” she said.
“Young men get up to all sorts of foolishness, Miss Selwyn. I’m sorry they distress you,” he replied. “Thank you for joining us for dinner tonight. The conversation was much improved.”
She grinned at that. “If Felton Tavernash is your usual companion, any conversation would be an improvement.”
He smiled back, lost in the gleam of eyes as blue as the lapis lazuli in Maera’s wedding ring. The memory, a dart to his heart, brought him to his senses.Why should that come to mind now?
Her smile dimmed as if she felt his change in mood. “I’ll bid you good night, then,” she said.
