Page 6 of The Mistress (Foxgloves #1)

GIDEON

S itting back and savoring his brandy in the dark, smoky room of the gentleman’s club, Gideon was still drunk from meeting the lovely Amelia Becham two days prior. Even Genevieve had been sensing a difference in him these days since – his constant smiles, elated mood – though she hadn’t said a word. Living with their father had taught her a superhuman power of observation and ability to assess her surroundings. Gideon knew she noted his evident happiness and excitement, and was monitoring it keenly.

As he sat, lost to his own pleasant thoughts of his plans, Thomas walked in and, spotting Gideon, beelined to join him.

“Well met,” Thomas said, taking a seat beside him.

“Thomas,” Gideon replied.

There was a pause, during which Thomas was promptly served a drink and Gideon’s was refreshed, and then Thomas asked, “How are you, my friend?”

There was a mischief in his eye, but admittedly, it was hard to really tell since Thomas always seemed to have a mischievous glint to him. If Gideon had ever had a brother, he would have both enjoyed and likely hated having one like Thomas.

“I am quite well,” Gideon took another sip. “And you? How has your other dinner guest been?”

Thomas’s face split into a grin at Gideon’s question. “Oh, we are both ‘quite well,’ too, I’d say. Although, Amelia might be a touch better. Much like you, I imagine.”

Thomas was baiting him, and Gideon felt a wariness take hold within him. Was Thomas trying to encourage Gideon? Or was he calling out Gideon’s inappropriate behavior towards his mistress at his own dinner table? He’d never known Thomas to be an indirect man, but then again, Gideon had never disrespected him, nor tried to take anything of his before, let alone something as unmistakably precious as Amelia. But it seemed too far-fetched to think Thomas wanted to be rid of her.

Gideon decided on a cautious approach. “I am glad to hear it,” was all he said, not taking the bait.

“I won’t beat around the bush, Birmingham,” like Gideon thought, Thomas was a direct man. “I will be taking Amelia and Lydia to London in a few days’ time to join the Season. We plan to attend the Welsey’s Ball at the end of this week, as well as accept all other invitations we receive.”

Gideon’s mind went into overdrive as he stared at the reclining earl and read between the lines of what he was saying. Thomas wasn’t telling him this information by way of idle conversation. He was informing him of their plan so Gideon could adjust his accordingly. But what Gideon was still unsure of was why .

He stared unseeingly across the room, taking a mindless drink of his brandy. He could easily figure their participation this Season was to launch the younger girl, Lydia, into Society, assuming Amelia had asked him to find her sister a husband. It was unconventional, dare Gideon say improper , to bring one’s mistress into Society and try to marry off her sister, but it wasn’t impossible. And Thomas was a far cry from conventional.

But did Thomas want Gideon to marry the girl? He wondered as he swirled the liquid in his glass. Thomas couldn’t possibly expect that. Perhaps he wanted Gideon to employ her as Thomas did Amelia, and this was an excuse to get them to meet and spend time together.

But then why had Thomas been baiting him about Amelia?

Was he really trying to rid himself of Amelia and saw an opportunity in Gideon and Amelia’s reactions to each other the other day? Perhaps he wanted to pursue the younger girl himself, considering the way he’d asked after her at dinner. That would be extremely convenient. More than that, he admitted to himself, it would be ideal. Gideon would happily, happily , take over the care of Amelia Becham. In fact, he fully intended to, whether Thomas was on board with it or not, but he had been planning on a more nuanced approach. But if his musings proved correct, it would be far more direct and expedient.

He would need more time to be sure of Thomas’s intent, though, and that time would be in London. And if Thomas wasn’t trying to find a new mistress, then London would give Gideon the opportunity he needed to enact his original strategy – woo the mistress and encourage her to leave Thomas for him. He also couldn’t deny the thrill he felt at the prospect of spending so much time with Amelia in the coming weeks.

“Well, then,” Gideon lifted the crystal tumbler in his hand, “perhaps this might be the Season for me to join, as well.”

Thomas’s grin grew and, without a word, he reached his own glass out to touch it to Gideon’s and toast their design. They spent the rest of the evening without another word on the subject, but the conversation never left Gideon’s thoughts. He was impatient for the coming weeks. Because that was all it would take. Only a few more weeks, and he would have Amelia Becham.