“Yes?” Selina said simultaneously.
Both cousins laughed, forcing Gideon to do the same. “Miss Euphemia Selwyn, I meant.”
Her brilliant smile lit his world. “This won’t do. Not if we’re to live in close quarters. May I call you by your Christian name?” he asked.
The other Miss Selwyn gasped. “Not I. I will be Miss Selwyn to you, if you please.”
He didn’t look at the cousin in the chair; his gaze never wavered from Euphemia. He took her hand in his. “I would be honored to make free with your name, at least in private, which we most assuredly will be as long as we’re in this room. Euphemia is rather a mouthful, though. Your cousin calls you ‘Fee,’” he said.
“Not that!”
He chuckled. “Do you have a middle name?”
She glanced at her toes, one of which made a pattern on the floor. “Forbearance,” she murmured, making him laugh harder.
“What, then?”
“Mia. My mother called me Mia.”
“May I ask you to do me the same honor? My name is Gideon.”
Her trembling smile shot like a dart to his heart. “Thank you. Gideon.”
“My father will not be pleased,” Miss Selwyn said, and the invisible connection he felt with Mia faded away under cold reality, making him wonder if he’d actually felt it.
“And you look terrible, Fee. You ought to tidy yourself,” the irritable cousin went on.
Mia blushed a delicious deep rose and peered down at the clothes she had slept in. “If you could read to my cousin for a while, perhaps I can freshen up in the dressing room.”
Gideon bowed and gestured to the basin and water pitcher. “May I carry it in for you?”
At her nod, he filled the basin, stopping halfway to save their precious water, before putting a towel over his arm and carrying it into the dressing room. A shelf over drawers with a mirror above made a sort of vanity in the room. He placed the basin and linen on it. The candle they kept lit to care for Kerr sat in the corner of it and reflected light from the mirror. He paused to check on Kerr, who moaned in her sleep, her jaw tight as if she was in pain. He took the cloth from her brow, dipped a corner of it into the water he’d just brought, and wiped the maid’s face before placing the cloth back on her brow.
“Do you think she will recover?” Mia stood in the doorway, staring at the woman, a well of sorrow in her expression.
He thought of Pritchard. The similarities were too great to overlook. “Perhaps. We have to remain hopeful,” he said. He considered sending for Standish. It might help Miss Selwyn, but he doubted it would do Kerr any good.
Mia made way so he could exit the dressing room.
“When you return, perhaps we can remove a pillow or two from Miss Selwyn’s bed to make Kerr more comfortable,” he said.
She nodded, a sad smile on her face, and closed the door behind her, leaving him once again with Miss Selwyn, whose unwavering gaze bore into him.
“Shall we read some more?” he asked.
“He won’t let you marry me,” she said.
Gideon blinked.Dear God, I hope not. He couldn’t imagine being shackled to this spoiled miss. “Your father?”
“Yes. He wants better for me. I may yet fix the attention of the heir.” She tossed her head as if loose curls hung down, though her hair was in fact bound in the back.
“When you meet Tavernash and his mother, you may think better of it,” he said. “Besides, my brother will return, leaving the man high and dry.” He picked up the book and sat on a stool next to her.
Her certainty wavered. “Do you truly believe so?” Her eyes glittered with calculation.
A duke is a much bigger prize than a possible heir.“I know so. The duke will return.”
“Mia is ruined now, locked in here with you. I’ve been ill and don’t count. My father will—”
