Page 39 of The Lyon Returns
She pivoted toward the door. She would go directly to Lady Harriet’s and hope to find her in.
Gideon took histime climbing the steps to the entrance of White’s. He eyed the fluted columns guarding the tall, understated door, painted in sedate, forest green, and braced himself for the coming inquisition. He’d made up his mind to keep his fake marriage a secret, even from the duke. It was for his own good, not that his father would likely see it that way.
The duchess most assuredly would.You must conduct yourself with the utmost decorum, Gideon. Your father risked his reputation, taking you in, claiming you publicly despite your birth. The least you can do is not embarrass him further.
He banged the polished knocker.
The door opened on silent hinges. A distinguished-looking doorman gestured him in. “Mr. Devereux, welcome. The duke awaits you on the second floor.”
“Thank you.” He handed off his coat, marveling at the liberties the duke took so unapologetically. No more than a handful of men in all of England could take as his due a doorman at White’s acting as his personal butler.
Gideon mounted the stairs in an unhurried pace, in keeping with the club’s distinguished atmosphere. He, himself, was not a member. He had opted for Arthur’s, a club less concerned with prominence and stature than relaxation and discretion.
Discretion, above all else.
He found the duke in his usual nook, in his usual armchair, reading a copy ofThe Times.A fire crackled cheerfully in the grate.
Gideon unbuttoned his jacket, already feeling the heat. “Good dayto you, sir.”
The duke’s eyes, so similar to his own, snapped up. In the next instant, he’d cast the paper aside and hefted to his feet. “Gideon, m’boy.”
Gideon found himself engulfed in his father’s hardy embrace.
An ear-splitting grin covered his own face and warmth flooded his chest. He had missed his father as the days wore on, especially as he began to worry he might never be able to return to England. “My lord, it is good to see you. I got your summons—”
“Invitation,” Ashford corrected with a mock frown.
Gideon snorted. “Yourinvitation,and came at once. Surprised to find you in town. I know how you prefer to rusticate in Surrey these days.”
His father sent him a speaking look. “As if you don’t know why I’ve come.” Dropping back into his armchair, he gestured to the one opposite his. “Sit. Coffee and something a bit stronger will arrive momentarily.”
As promised, a liveried servant arrived delivering a coffee service for two, and two crystal snifters filled with spirits the color of rich amber.
The duke swiped up one of the snifters, and Gideon did the same. The crystal felt pleasantly warm in his hand. He sipped. The duke’s private stock, of course. The brandy went down smooth as silk.
“About this arms’ business,” the duke began. “Utter nonsense. Idiots at the Home Office daring to investigate my eldest son.” His eyes heated. “An investigation based on conjecture and happenstance. Those plebeian upstarts.”
Gideon snorted. “May I remind you I am one of those plebeian upstarts?”
He waved that off. “Only technically.”
“Indeed.”
“You spoke to one of the undersecretaries, I understand.”
As Gideon had assumed, the duke had made inquiries. “My lord, you are nothing if not well-informed.”
His expression softened. “When it comes to you, there’s no stone I wouldn’t overturn, no boulder I wouldn’t blast to bits.”
Their eyes, so similar, met. Gideon nodded his thanks. No words could express how much his father’s support meant to him.
The duke steepled his aged fingers. “How did you leave it, then?”
“The undersecretary promised the Home Office would review all pertinent facts and someone would be in touch. He implied the matter would likely disappear, as far as concerns me.” Gideon swirled the brandy. “I believe my marriage played a significant role in undermining their case.”
His father’s mouth curved in a slow smile. “Ah, yes. Your marriage—to a complete unknown. I would chastise you for not exercising patience so that your family could have taken part in the celebration, but as the date of the nuptials made it impossible for you to have been anchored off the Spanish coast some five months ago, I can hardly complain.”
“I appreciate that.” Gideon met the duke’s searching gaze, thankful for the thick skin he’d developed over the years that enabled him not to squirm now.
