Page 61 of Bedding the Marquess
She certainly hoped not.
“Would you care to step out for a bit?” Oliver asked Gideon after a few more minutes of conversation.
Gideon’s eyes darted to Caroline, and she knew it was on the tip of his tongue to refuse—not because he did not wish to spend time with Oliver, but because he knew how the time spent in that room was wearing on her. He felt guilty about being able to live his life while she was effectively frozen in time. “Go on,” she shooed him. “Emily and I can share supper and chat. You have done nothing but spend every spare moment you have with me. I am certain the lads are about to storm the townhouse with torches and pitchforks and drag you from here. Unless I have lost track of time, it is Wednesday; they should be at Duke’s. Take Oliver there on a visitor’s voucher. I will be fine while you are absent for a few hours. Bianchi has no appointments this evening to take him away in case I have need of him.”
Gideon eventually acquiesced and promised to return in a few hours’ time.
“Thank goodness,” Emily sighed and slumped back in the chair Gideon had vacated. “Oliver is thrilled about the baby, but my, he will drive me mad with his watchfulness!” Caroline laughed in sympathy. “He treats me with kid gloves when all I want is for him to…you know—” Emily’s words died, and her cheeks turned a rather distinct shade of crimson.
“Oh, I understand. Believe me, I do.” And did Caroline ever.
Gideon and Oliverstrolled through the doors of the exclusive Covent Garden gaming hell. After producing his membership token and alerting the manager that he would use his single annual guest voucher for Oliver, their coats were swiftly spirited away by the efficient staff and they were shown into one of the designated dining areas. A buffet of elegantly prepared dishes was laid out on the table spanning the width of the room. Oysters were nestled in a bed of ice—an astounding luxury that made an appearance at least once each week on Duke’s table. A whole roasted pig, potatoes of all preparations, sole, squab, an array ofvegetables and fruits, and an entire corner dedicated to a tower of pastries and chocolates rounded out that evening’s offerings. It was opulence at its finest.
Gideon watched as his half brother absorbed their surroundings. From the fine papering on the walls to the polished wood bannisters, the expensive rugs, tapestries, and gilded sconces and polished crystal chandeliers, everything was impeccable.
“Have you been here before?” he asked Oliver. There was not the barest hint of condescension in his tone. In Oliver’s line of work, who knew the places he’d been and the things he’d seen? Gideon could only guess, and he suspected even his wildest imaginings were still nowhere near the truth.
“Only the exterior,” he replied, eyeing the glistening surface of a halved oyster with either intense interest or disgust. “Lady Night’s sometimes loans out employees for events. I have escorted them here before.”
Gideon nodded just as they were approached by a few of Duke’s other members. A steady stream of gentlemen made inquiries as to Caroline’s health and his prolonged absence from Society and other social clubs. No one commented on his mostly healed injuries, though a few pairs of eyes flicked to the cut on his cheek. Other gazes were more drawn toward the man at Gideon’s side. News of the Marquess of Swanleigh acknowledging his bastard half brother had made the rounds of the gossip columns. As expected, there were a fair bit of salacious whispers spread about the situation, but Gideon found it easy to set them aside when he knew the truth of it all. He was proud to have a brother—especially an unrecognized hero such as Oliver. Whether London knew it or not, Oliver was one of the many men to whom it owed its peace and way of life.
Blackwell and the others stumbled upon Oliver and Gideon as they sat down to eat. Soon, all of them shared a table, chattingand laughing amiably over their plates and the flowing drinks. Gideon noticed that Oliver never took more than a sip of any spirits placed before him—he was coming to learn Oliver was not a man prone to vices. It warmed Gideon’s heart in to see his closest friends together with his brother, all of them sharing a meal and a table, accepting one another’s presence as if they’d always been a part of each other’s lives…and they did that forhim.
Eventually, Gideon’s friends returned to their planned evening of heavy gaming. Gideon and Oliver opted to remain at the table. Oliver lifted his glass.
“A toast,” he said, and Gideon raised his own without question. “To family and friends, both of which I found quite by accident only a few short months ago.” There was an openness to Oliver’s face, a rawness to his tone that Gideon had not experienced before. The man was usually so cool and composed. “I was alone for so much of my life and I believed that was how it would be forever. Then, I found Emily. A year later, you chanced into my path…and you’re bloody lucky I didn’t pummel you like you deserved.” Gideon laughed heartily at that—having seen Oliver in action, he could well appreciate that statement. “Now, I have the chance to right the wrongs of the people in my life because I fully intend to be a much better parent than those I’ve known. And I look forward to raising our children together.”
The words sank in, and Gideon’s smile burst into an enormous grin. “Emily is with child!” Oliver nodded and his grin was blinding. Gideon tossed back his drink and clasped hands with his brother. “Congratulations! When did you find out?”
“Just the other day,” Oliver answered after he took a sip of his drink and set it aside. “I wanted you to be among the first to know.”
This made Gideon pause. “Don’t you have other friends? People whom you have known for many years? Wouldn’t you wish to tell them first?”
Oliver shrugged. “The very nature of my life and my disposition prevented me from becoming close to almost everyone; as such, I have only one or two men I would considerfriends.” Gideon was humbled beyond measure to realize he was now officially among that select group, but he was truly taken aback by his next comment. “You are, after all, my little brother.” Oliver’s eyes glinted with a mischievousness Gideon hadn’t known the man possessed.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
When the dayfinally came that Caroline was allowed to return to Swanleigh House—under strict orders to continue her rest, of course—she truly understood what Emily had told her of Oliver’s “cloying carefulness” because Gideon proceeded to do precisely that.
He hardly left her side unless it was business he could put off no longer. She never had to ask for anything because he was always right there, predicting her every need and summoning the staff before she could so much as raise her finger toward the bellpull. She loved the man, but good grief! He was taking no chances when it came to her and their baby, who, by the way, was as displeased by the inactivity as she was, restless and moving almost constantly. Gideon’s eternal presence might have annoyed her more, however, had she not known that it came from the purest love. He never missed an opportunity to tell her as much, to hold her close, to press tender kisses to her face, her neck, and even the burgeoning swell of her ripe abdomen.
This, of course, did not mean that Caroline did not suffer from bouts of frustration and melancholy.
One week after their return to Swanleigh House, Gideon joined Caroline on the bed and propped his head on his fist. “How are you faring, darling?”
“Well enough,” Caro grumbled. It wasn’t fair for her to be put out with him, but there were few outlets for her emotions at that point. With Parliament in session, he’d spent much of the daymeeting with other members of his party to discuss a proposal for reforming the system in place to care for foundlings—a cause to which Caroline knew in her heart was worthy of lending her husband.
“Well enough to leave the bed so I might show you something?” His dark brows were raised in excitement.
That caught Caroline’s interest.
“Of course,” she agreed, though she was baffled. She was dressed in only her nightshift and, while she’d been allowed to return home, her activity was still restricted. Where could he possibly wish to take her?
He helped her rise and slip on her dressing gown before guiding her across the hall to a closed bedchamber door.
“Now, close your eyes,” he said.
“Gideon—”
