Page 36 of Bedding the Marquess
Emily’s brows rose, and she nodded after a brief hesitation.
“Gideon received his invitation to apply for membership there. He and our friends, Lords Trenholm, Kempton, and Brinley, coordinated their first foray. Blackwood had yet to receive his invitation and was quite sulky about being left out. I believe you met all of them at Gideon’s birthday party.”
“What a lively lot they all must have been at Duke’s,” Emily giggled. She’d certainly read them properly after meeting them only once.
“I am certain the proprietor regretted their admission almost immediately. That visit was cut short, to say the least, after there was a bit of a brawl.”
“A brawl!”
“It took me some time to learn of the events and piece them together from various sources, but, from what I understand, Callbeck approached Gideon at one of the tables. He, like the rest of Society, misjudged the nature of my relationship with Gideon—we hadn’t so much as shared a kiss at that time. Lewd comments were made. Gideon snapped. Lord Kempton said he’d never seen a man move so quickly and inflict so much damage in the blink of an eye.”
Emily gasped and covered her mouth, but not from disgust. She seemed almost thrilled by the prospect of Callbeck receiving a spot of justice at Gideon’s hands.
“Apparently, it took four men to pull Gideon off Callbeck. They were both nearly banned from the premises when Duke, himself, became involved. Upon learning why Gideon had attacked him, however, Duke turned his ire upon the bloodied and broken Callbeck. He was stripped of his membership, which Callbeck did not appreciate in the least, and he rashly threatened to exact revenge upon the business. I was told Duke said he would publish a statement that any man found to be abusive toward women would no longer be granted access to the club. A list of offenders would be included, with Callbeck’s name atthe top…and Duke even offered house credit to those who put men such as Callbeck in their places. Naturally, news of the altercation spread like fire jumping from one Mayfair house to the next.”
“So, not only was he beaten, but he also experienced a taste of shame. How appropriate.” Emily said that last bit with such malicious glee that Caroline couldn’t help but laugh. “I am grateful that you had him.”
“I am, as well,” Caroline replied, squeezing Emily’s hand in return.
Even after Callbeck’s disgrace and banishment to Essex by his incensed father, Caroline’s parents never reached out. They never apologized for their belief in a man who was as vile and duplicitous as Callbeck, not so much as a simple note. She had, however, received a visit from Gideon.
His lip had been split, but he seemed otherwise no worse for wear. It had been on the tip of Caroline’s tongue to thank him for standing up for her, for defeating the monster that haunted her nightmares, but no words came. Instead, she’d only been able to fall against Gideon in relief, and he held her so securely she never wanted it to end.
“A more currentportrait is hanging in the library of Swanleigh House in London, but I think you will still see some marked resemblances in this one.” Gideon led Oliver through the cavernous portrait gallery, passing centuries of faces until they reached the one he sought. Hanging in the center of the wall was the portrait of a lad about fourteen years of age. He was slim with disproportionately broad shoulders. A shock of dark hair was curled and sculpted around his ears. His mouth was a harsh, unforgiving line beneath a straight nose. His eyes were piercingly silver and stared with unnerving directness at the painting’s viewer. He wore a bright-blue coat in the style ofthe previous century. A gold-patterned waistcoat, thickly ruffled cravat, white breeches and stockings, and black buckled shoes completed the ensemble. A saber hung from a belt at his waist as he stood with the affected confidence of a man twice his age. The bulk of Bray Castle was an unmistakable shape in the background, standing out against the mostly cloudless sky.
Oliver simply stared in silence. His silver eyes, so like the portrait’s subject, focused unblinkingly. Gideon had the distinct impression that a silent conversation was taking place and, out of respect, he stepped back and allowed it to occur. It was clear that Oliver, like Gideon, had his demons to fight; the portrait of their scoundrel of a father was one of them.
“Am I the only one?” Oliver finally asked.
“I do not know,” Gideon replied truthfully. “You are the only one I knew of—the only one my mother discovered.” Oliver gave a curt nod of understanding. “You see now why I knew you were that boy with such certainty?” Oliver nodded again after a brief hesitation.
“My life has had very few certainties in it, one of which was knowing who my parents were. This portrait has thrown that knowledge on the fire like scraps.”
“I understand this information is difficult to come to terms with, but I believe, together, we can make the bastard spin in his grave. He never wanted us to know one another, but here we are.” Gideon took a chance and squeezed Oliver’s shoulder in a show of brotherly affection. “It might take time, but I will be here whenever you are ready. Caroline and I are going nowhere.”
Oliver chuffed. “Our wives, it seems, have become fast friends. I do not believe I could carve you out of my life now even if I wished it.”
“Is this reallynecessary?” Caroline groused, frustrated that men could be such boorish creatures.
“It is all in good fun, my love,” Gideon replied good-naturedly and planted a placating kiss on her temple. Three days of peace had passed, and now it had come to this.
“Rolling around on the ground with your brother is not something I would consider fun.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Making up for lost bonding time. Isn’t it supposed to be a rite of passage, fighting one’s sibling?”
“I wouldn’t know; I have no siblings,” Emily said with a shrug, looking every bit as skeptical as Caroline felt.
“And I cannot say my sister and I ever came to blows,” Caroline grumbled and watched as Gideon and Oliver removed their coats and unwound their cravats. “This seems barbaric.”
The topic of physical activities had come up in conversation during a stroll through the fields. Both Caroline and Gideon were accomplished riders. Emily had never mounted a horse and Oliver said he’d done it “a time or two.” Caroline had always enjoyed walks, but more so in the Kentish countryside now that riding was out of the question due to her condition. Hunting was not something Oliver had an interest in, though his wife mentioned he was a brilliant shot. It was Gideon who mentioned how exhilarating an exercise fighting could be. As that conversation progressed, it almost seemed that a dam had been opened up within the normally staid Oliver. As it happened, his childhood in London’s slums had gone a long way toward teaching him how to defend himself. For his part, one of Gideon’s favorite pastimes was spending a few hours at Gentleman Jack’s.
Caroline could still remember the first time he’d mentioned to her he’d begun attending pugilism lessons. After twelve months of instruction, he’d finally admitted that he had aimed to participate in an exhibition. It was scandalous that a marquess would fight before a crowd. Though Caroline had seen his strength and he’d assured her he felt quite well prepared, shestill wondered at his sanity. Besides, she would have hated to see him injured. His face was so beautiful that it would have been a shame to see it ruined…though she’d suspected he would look quite dashing with a blackened eye.
Gideon had wisely waited until the day of the event to tell her of his plans because, as he’d put it, she was one of the only people who might be capable of talking him out of following through. At that point, his attendance had been announced, and his honor was at stake.
Caroline had been determined to find a way to attend the fight. Blackwood, ever the loyal friend and game for anything, insisted he would accompany her and find her some boy’s clothing if she required a disguise. In the end, it hadn’t been necessary. She’d gone as herself, her friends flanking her on either side to protect her from the rowdy crowd, and they’d watched Gideon’s bare-knuckled brawl.
The fight had lasted two rounds before Gideon won. The speed and strength of his movements had left her breathless, but it had still been difficult to watch the few good blows his opponent had landed.
