Page 68

“He might have gossiped,” Giles agreed. His eyes were dark with fury. “Lydia has said despicable things about you.”

That was no surprise. Yasmin sighed. “Giles, you’ll have to become accustomed to that sort of comment. I already told you there was a scandal in my past.”

“She claimed you were a light woman who had slept with any number of men.”

“That was not true.”

“All the time she was carrying a condom in her purse.” Giles pulled back, strode a few steps, and swung around. “My sister actively tried to ruin your reputation, even though she herself was debauched.”

“That is taking the very worst interpretation of the condom,” Yasmin said uncomfortably. “Lydia is very young.”

“Hardly an excuse for breaking every principle that she was taught in her life!”

“But was she taught those principles? You just told me that your mother freely interpreted her marriage vows,” Yasmin pointed out. “As did my mother, I hasten to add. I don’t mean to be critical.”

“Lydia is a young lady.”

“So was your mother when she married your father shortly after entertaining a lover. As is my mother, who took a lover during marriage. It’s quite likely that Lydia does not agree with the strict rules governing society. I’ve observed that women in our situation—those whose mothers were less conventional—often follow in their mothers’ steps.”

Giles took a step toward her. “Is that what led to the scandal you mentioned, in France?”

She nodded. “Something like that. To return to the next few months, I can imagine a number of ways by which Lydia could destroy her future. She needs her older brother at her side, making certain the engagement succeeds. I do believe she will be happy with Lord Pettigrew.”

“So do I,” Giles said, wrapping his arms around her. “So we’ll have a secret betrothal. It sounds like an old-fashioned play, like A Man of Mode.”

Yasmin came up on her toes and brushed a kiss on his lips. “No courting me in public.”

“I will agree as long as you allow me to pay you private visits. I can’t stay away from you, Yasmin. I might challenge Silvester to a duel merely for touching your hand.”

“I can’t believe you’re so worried about losing me!”

“I know loss,” Giles said, his expression bleak. “My father was there one day, gone the next. My mother was ranting about a judge at breakfast, dead by dinner.” His arms tightened around her.

“I’m sorry,” Yasmin whispered. She reached up to put a kiss on his lips, which led to another round of kissing that didn’t end for long moments. “Oh, my goodness,” she gasped.

“I shall pay you a visit every evening, if I don’t see you during the day,” Giles decreed, his jaw set.

“Only if my grandfather agrees.”

“Your grandfather allowed me to carry you into your bedchamber,” Giles pointed out. “He didn’t challenge me to a duel when his butler informed him of the locked drawing room door. Your grandfather wants me to marry you.”

“True.” Yasmin leaned into him, loving the warm strength of his body. She barely stopped her hand from dropping from his chest to below his waist. Just . . . just to feel.

She sprang away, startled by the sweet ache she felt between her legs.

“You’ll have to learn to ignore it,” Giles said ruefully, one side of his mouth hitching up.

Yasmin felt heat spilling into her cheeks, but she didn’t know what to say.

He leaned in and took one more kiss. “Tomorrow.”

Chapter Twenty

The following afternoon, Yasmin walked into a tea party only to discover that her fiancé had accompanied his sister there.

Not that anyone would guess they were betrothed.

Giles bowed stiffly before her, intoning, “Lady Yasmin.” He promptly turned about and sat beside his sister. For her part, Lydia threw Yasmin a triumphant look, and it took all of Yasmin’s inner strength to curve her lips into a gracious smile.