“It seems my father did you a disservice, Piers.”
His cousin did not answer. He turned away, a brooding look in his face.
Giff hesitated. Was it time? Should he speak now? Or was it better to leave it? If he brought the subject into the open, it could never be closed again. Yet if he did not, he was limiting his choices. Piers had clearly stated he should not be trusted. But might this change things? He changed his position, pulling his feet back and sitting up straighter. “Piers.”
The man’s head turned, all trace of mockery gone. There was a dull acceptance in his face. His voice came low. “Well?”
Giff took on air, steeling himself. “Tell me true. Are you my half-brother?”
Shock flashed in his cousin’s eyes. Then his chin went up and he sat forward in a bang. “How in hell’s name did you come to that conclusion?”
“Never mind. Is it true?”
“You impugn my mother’s memory!”
“And my father’s too. Is it true?”
“How in the name of all the devils of hell should I know? He didn’t tell me so, if that’s what you think.”
Giff held to his own stiffness. “But you suspected it.”
Piers threw his head back. “Damn you to hell!”
“If you wish, but I will be satisfied on this point, Piers.”
“Go to the devil! Do you think it gives me any pleasure to think we are more nearly related than as cousins?”
“It might make a difference to me, however.”
Piers’s gaze narrowed. He fell back against his pillows, surveying Giff. “How so?”
“I don’t yet know. But I’d have more consideration for a half-brother than a mere cousin. It would also provide a motive for conduct that by rights ought to land you in gaol.”
“Gaol? You can prove nothing, Giffard. I’ve told you that already.”
“And I told you not to be so cocksure! I may still choose to charge you by way of the law.”
“I’d be acquitted.”
“Are you certain of that? And what of the scandal?”
Piers cast him a glance of acute dislike. “Why should I care? You’ll ruin me in any event.”
Giff let out an exasperated snort. “Let us be clear about this, my friend. Wherever you end up, your actions have taken you there. It’s not what I have done, nor what I may do.”
The sneer returned to his mouth. “I collect I applied the sword to my own arm?”
“Oh, don’t be such a confounded fool, man! I gave you your own again, that’s all.”
“You left me no choice but to fight. I’d no wish for it. And you brought your so-called friends to aid and abet you. You are the aggressor, Giffard, not I, and so I shall tell the world.”
Giff leapt up. “There is no talking to you! I’m wasting my time.” He thrust the chair away and strode to the door, the determination forming in his head to be done with the wretch for once and for all.
“Wait!”
Turning at the door, Giff threw the man an impatient look. “What now?”
Piers was frowning. “You’ve not told me what you intend?”