Page 100 of The Lyon Returns
“Of course.” Apparently her friend had separated the two of them from the rest of the guests by design.
Unable to quell the urge, Gwen glanced over her shoulder toward the others. Most lounged on blankets. A few had ventured to the rocky water’s edge where the land met the riverbed, as opposed to the steep drop off here. Gideon was one of the latter. Her eyes fell on him at the exact moment he turned to look her way. He lifted his hand in a small wave and everything inside her seemed to shimmer.
She turned back to Georgina, who studied her with a contemplative air.
“What is it, dear? Are you worried about your upcoming release now that I have left the publisher of your previous works?”
Georgina smiled and two matching dimples appeared on either cheek. “Heavens, no. I trust you implicitly.”
“I’m glad.” Gwen waited, expectant.
“I wanted to ask…that is, I know this is not my affair, but I do feel particularly protective of you, and…” She broke off, a helpless expression appearing on her face.
“Protective of me? What is this all about?”
“I’m bungling this. I suppose I wanted to ask if you aren’t perhaps, falling in love with your husband?” She finished on a hopeful note.
Gwen felt the heat rush over her face. She laughed, the sound self-conscious and definitely over-loud to her own ears. “Georgina, where is all this coming from?”
“Oh, dear. Let me add that I find the notion particularly grand. I’ve been thinking over your situation, you see, and I’m concerned because—”
Understanding dawned. “Is it because of his reputation with the ladies? Are you worried he’s made me a conquest?”
“No,” Georgina hastened to say. “Not at all. In any case, if he has, well, I daresay you have made him one as well,” she said matter-of-factly and pushed her wire framed glasses up her nose once more. “My concern is, if and when the two of you call a halt, what then?”
“What do you mean?” But Gwen knew precisely what she meant. She’d wondered the same thing many times.
“Well, one of you will have to relocate, yes? I’d hate for it to be you; you’ve only just got here. On the other hand, you are living in Mr. Devereux’s home and it’s hardly likely he will wish to vacate. And what of your marriage? Will you need to annul the thing as the papers do appear genuine, or, Heaven forbid, divorce? Or do you mean to go on as a married couple, living separately?”
Gwen blinked. The effervescent joy with which she had awoken seemed to go suddenly flat.
She had tried several times to broach the subject with Gideon. Each time, he had put the matter off, just as each time, she had allowed him to do so. Now, looking at the situation from Georgina’s perspective, she had to ask herself, why had she not pressed?
She suspected she knew very well why.
“Oh, dear. I can see I have managed to upset you,” Georgina said, looking grave. “Forget I said anything.”
Gwen took one of Georgina’s hands. “No. You are right that the situation must be handled with great care. Do not worry. Mr. Devereux has a plan in place, I assure you.”
“Ah, yes, he would,” came Mr. Brice Tyrell’s booming masculine voice from behind her. “Whatever the case may be, he always does. The man is nothing if not strategic, not to mention lucky.”
Gwen spun around, she hoped with a welcoming smile on her face. She was not at all sure. She was not the best at concealing strong emotions, and he had very much startled her, as, intent on listening to Georgina, and with the sound of water rushing below, she had not heard his approach.
“Good morning, Mr. Tyrell,” she said, breathlessly.
He clipped a bow and smiled his debonair smile. “Good morning, ladies. You’re both looking lovely, as always.”
“Mr. Tyrell.” Georgina greeted him in her usual, reserved manner.
Hands clasped behind his back, he eyed the surrounding area. “Rather dismal morning for a riverside outing. Not sure what the old man was thinking.” He peered over the edge to the water below. “Careful here, getting too near the edge. The water’s deeper than it looks and beneath the surface it’s got a nasty undertow. I wouldn’t want either of you to misstep and tumble into the deep.”
Gwen felt the hair at her nape stir. She glanced toward the river, then looked across the patchy ground toward the access road. “This is where it happened, isn’t it? Where you jumped in to help Gideon after he…How did he fall in, Mr. Tyrell?”
“Never say Mr. Devereux fell into the river,” Georgina said, her face aghast.
Brice arched a brow. “Indeed he did, Lady Georgina. It was years ago, now, when we were young. It was a fine spring day, and I cameout to fish as I recall. You might think Gid was doing the same, but no. He was out here drawing, or doodling, or whatever he did in those books of his. One minute I was casting off, down there”—he pointed to a flat section of riverbank—“the next thing I knew he went over the edge. It took a moment for me to realize he hadn’t jumped, he’d fallen when the earth beneath his feet gave way in a mudslide.
“What else could I do? Let him drown? I had to go in after him.” He laughed. “Nearly drowned myself in the process. Like I said the undertow here is nasty. If Grayson hadn’t come along, not sure I could’ve managed to get us both out alive.”
