His betrothed, for instance.
Haslemere snorted. “Oh, I think you know well enough what you’re about. There’s no sense denying it, Darlington. Anyone can see the way you look at Cecilia, and draw the obvious conclusion.”
Gideon’s face heated. “If you recall, it wasyouwho urged me to keep Cecilia on instead of dismissing her.”
“I did, yes, but that was before I realized you’d developed atendrefor her.” Haslemere took a sip of his port. “Your infatuation with her is inconvenient, given you’re meant to marry another lady in less thana week’s time.”
“I’m aware of my obligations to Miss Honeywell, Haslemere.”
“Being aware of your obligations and reconciled to them are not, alas, the same thing. Your betrothed doesn’t seem to notice it, but I think Mrs. Honeywell has drawn her own conclusions about Cecilia. She’s a spiteful, vulgar, ill-mannered woman, but she’s notan utter fool.”
Gideon didn’t bother arguing the point. He’d caught more than one outraged glance from Mrs. Honeywell over the past few days. As for his betrothed, she either didn’t care, or didn’t notice his preoccupation with Cecilia.
It was difficult to tell withMiss Honeywell.
“I don’t know what I’m doing, Haslemere.” Gideon let his head fall into his hands. Perhaps he shouldn’t have become betrothed again. The business of living what remained of his life had been a great deal easier from behind the walls of Darlington Castle.
Easier, but lonelier, and not really a life at all. Not for him, and not for Isabella. She needed a mother, and hopefully, in time, brothers and sisters.
Haslemere toyed with his glass, his gaze on the swirl of ruby red port. “Tell me, Darlington. Are you in love with Miss Honeywell?”
Gideon’s head snapped up.Love? No, he wasn’t in love with her. He’d chosen Miss Honeywell as his bride for a number of reasons, but not one of them had been because he loved her. He was under no illusions she loved him, either. Theirs was atonmarriage in every sense of the word. “She’s a decent lady, lovely both in face and temperament, and I believe she’ll be an affectionate mother to Isabella.”
He needed a wife, and Miss Honeywell wanted a fortune and a title. That was all. Gideon no longer expected anything more from a marriage than that.
“Ah, but that’s not what I asked you, Darlington.” Haslemere set his port aside and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I asked if you’re inlove with her.”
Gideon ran a weary hand down his face, and wondered when everything had become so confusing. “No, I don’t love her, but I don’t see what that has to do with anything. This marriage is a matter of practicality, not passion. She’s uncomplicated, Haslemere, and her presence brightens up thisdreary place.”
“I see. You’re determined to marry her, then?”
“Of course I am. Do you suppose I’d court and then offer for a lady I wasn’t prepared to marry?” A bitter laugh fell from Gideon’s lips. “I’m a murderer, Haslemere, remember? Not a scoundrel.”
“Damn it, Darlington, will you stop saying that? We both know you’re neither. I only ask because I can’t imagine anything less than love would induce me to marry a lady with such a mother. But none of that matters. No, the issue here is that Cecilia is distracting you from your betrothed, and it’s bound to make a mess of things. I’m amazed it hasn’t already.”
“Are you suggesting I dismiss her?” Ceciliadiddistract him, more so every day, yet Gideon couldn’t bear the idea of letting her go.
“I’m suggesting you find another place for her, yes. I’ll take her on, if you like. Oh, she’s a bit of a termagant, but I’m rather fond of her all the same. One can’t help but admire a lady who puts Mrs. Honeywellin her place.”
Haslemere grinned, and for some reason it set Gideon’s teeth on edge. “Fond of her, are you?Howfond?Improperlyfond?”
It was a bloody unfair question, and one Gideon knew he had no right to ask. Haslemere might be one of London’s most dashing rakes, but at his heart he was a gentleman. There were certain lines he wouldn’t cross, and trifling with a servant was one of them.
But if Haslemere was offended, he didn’t show it. “Fond enough to offer her a place at Haslemere House. I can take her over there myself tomorrow morning, and have her out of Mrs. Honeywell’s way before breakfast. You must see you can’t keep Cecilia at Darlington Castle after you’re wed—”
“No. Cecilia stays here.” Gideon was cursing his own foolishness before the words were out of his mouth, but he just…he couldn’t let her go.
“No?” Haslemere stared at him. “Whythe devil not?”
Why, indeed? It was the ideal solution, really, the perfect way to get Cecilia out from underfoot without depriving her of a place, which would be unfair of him. It wasn’t her fault she drove him to distraction, heated the blood in his veins, haunted his dreams—
Yet as perfect as it was, Gideon found himself desperately floundering for a believable explanation for why it wouldn’t do. “I can’t let her go now, Haslemere, not when Isabella’s so attached to her.” He was half-ashamed of using his niece as an excuse, but then again, it was the truth, wasn’t it?
“Ah. Isabella, is it? I suppose there isn’t a single servant in all of Darlington Castle aside from Cecilia Isabellacan tolerate.”
“It’s truer than you might think. Cecilia has a way with her. She, ah…she sings to Isabella, and it calms her. Cecilia has a surprisingly sweet singing voice, despite the occasional sharp edgeto her tongue.”
Haslemere huffed out a breath, but Gideon had hit upon just the right argument. Haslemere, much like everyone else who frequented Darlington Castle, was Isabella’s devoted slave, and he wouldn’t dream of depriving her of the only servant who could soothe her.
