Page 34 of The Mistress (Foxgloves #1)
GIDEON
G ideon followed Hughes to Thomas’s study, pretending he had no interest in his surroundings. But his eyes still roamed, searching out the woman he knew was hidden somewhere in this same house.
It wasn’t the first time these past weeks that they’d shared space, of course. In fact, Gideon was still obliged to attend the same events of the Season for her, all with increasing wretchedness. He kept his distance, not speaking to or acknowledging her, but Thomas and Gideon had worked tirelessly to set the world right when it came to its opinion of Miss Amelia Becham. A big piece of that plan included Gideon’s own word and influence. Through it all, though, he’d had to watch her circulate, socialize, dance, and smile with men that were not him. And she’d been careful, too. Avoiding him, not sparing him a single glance, as if he were just another table or piece of furniture.
“The Duke of Birmingham, My Lord,” Hughes announced him before promptly leaving.
“Gideon,” Thomas greeted him with a smile, standing from his desk and gesturing towards the seating area next to the fireplace before he made his way to the corner side table to pour them both brandies. Like every other room he’d seen in this house, this too was bright and friendly with pale, tastefully expensive furnishings. “Thank you for accepting my invitation.”
Thomas, ever the kind-hearted and happy man that he was, had fully moved past Gideon’s misunderstanding, though they were both careful not to mention the relationship between Gideon and Amelia, pretending instead that nothing had existed there at all. Gideon couldn’t explain the hollowness that left in him.
“Thomas.” Gideon took the offered drink and seated himself. “Will your fiancé be joining us?” he asked when what he really wanted to know was if his fiancé’s sister would be joining them. The woman who knew his deepest truths. Who haunted the edges of his every thought.
He wasn’t sure if he felt disappointment or relief when Thomas answered, eyeing him with knowing curiosity, “No, she and Amelia have gone shopping for the wedding.”
“I see,” he cleared his throat and continued his uncaring pretense. “And how is the wedding planning coming?”
“Quite well,” Thomas’s contented smile filled Gideon with burning jealousy. He was happy for his friend, truly, for both unselfish and selfish reasons. Gideon was glad Thomas was marrying a woman he loved. And he was more than a little relieved – surprisingly so – that Thomas had never shared any intimacies with Amelia. But in his misery, Gideon envied a smile like that and the obvious feeling behind it.
Thomas continued, “You’ll stay here, yes, during the festivities? I already told the staff you would.”
“Then I will,” Gideon nodded. In his perfected game of pretend and avoidance, he didn’t comment on how close that would put him to the woman he refused to acknowledge, even in his own mind.
“Very good,” Thomas said before taking another drink. He continued in a more serious voice, “Now, I’m sure you are aware, as good as it always is to see you, I have asked you here for a specific reason. I won’t insult you by being indirect. I believe you care for Amelia, especially considering the lengths you have been willing to go for her reputation these past weeks. I wish you to share a bit more on your depth of concern for her and your intentions.”
“I have no intentions,” Gideon ignored the hammering of his heart and bitterness coating his mouth. Genevieve’s words screamed in his mind. “I admit to a fondness for her, but I do not plan to pursue a future, or even a present, with her.”
He knew Genevieve was right. That he had a choice here. But for some reason he couldn’t comprehend – or perhaps hadn’t really tried to comprehend – he couldn’t let go of what his parents had left him with. He couldn’t…he couldn’t make that different choice.
“No future at all?” Thomas was skeptical. As much as Gideon attempted to fool himself that his reactions and demeanor were in his usual manner, Thomas saw through the facade.
“None,” he answered sharply. “You know I do not intend to take a wife.”
“Yes, but I wondered, seeing the strength of your connection with Amelia, if your thoughts on matrimony had finally changed and if you might finally walk to the alter a more willing man.”
“I have experienced no such change,” Gideon said with finality, ignoring Thomas’s disappointed expression before him and Genevieve’s in his mind’s eye.
“Well, then, I guess that settles it.” Thomas leaned back against the cushions of his seat, taking another sip of his drink. “I will speak to Amelia today.”
“What do you mean? About what?” Gideon’s attention snapped up, releasing his defensiveness.
“The Viscount of St. Alsbrook.”
Gideon felt his hackles rise. The Viscount of St. Alsbrook. The whelp of a man that had spent too many dances with Amelia in his arms or promenades in her company. Gideon had taken note of him – far more than he cared to admit. He had also taken the liberty to look into the man and found he had means and was generally liked by most people. Gideon, however, loathed the bastard. He refused to admit why.
“What about St. Alsbrook?” His words came out clipped.
“He has been courting Amelia and asked for my permission to offer her marriage. I know she has feelings for you, however, and I wondered if they might be mutual. If they had been, I would not have disturbed her with his request.”
“Have you given him an answer yet?” Gideon was having trouble thinking through the roaring in his head. A hole was ripping itself wider and wider in his chest. The pain of it made him grit his teeth. He was sure he was shaking.
“Not yet. I think he’s a decent match for her, though. They could live a comfortable life together, but I wouldn’t dream of giving him an answer without speaking to her first.” Thomas scoffed darkly as he imagined the consequences of doing just that.
“Indeed,” was all Gideon could manage in answer. He was having trouble breathing. He needed to leave. He needed to run and rage and tear the world apart like he was being torn apart from the inside out. He shot to his feet. “Well, I must be off, Thomas. If there’s nothing else?”
“There isn’t.” Thomas’s mind was already elsewhere, likely considering his upcoming conversations with Amelia and St. Alsbrook. “Thank you for coming, my friend, and for your candor.”
Gideon merely nodded and showed himself out, not waiting for Hughes to escort him. The heartbreak was violent within him. His feelings were too much for company or propriety. And with each passing moment, he was feeling more and more as though he was willingly losing a dream for the sake of holding on to a nightmare.