“I cannot truthfully say,” he said carefully, finally, “that while I would indeed suffer if you were unhappy, and your contentment has always been of concern to me, I would not grieve a little any circumstance that altered the consistent joy we have taken in each other’s company.”
Her heart twinged. It was such a lovely, lovely speech, and very convoluted and oblique and English in that it might contain an enormous amount of emotion and one would never know it.
“I shouldn’t like you to ever grieve, Gilly. Or suffer.” Even now, his apparent suffering was causing her heart to ache. He had a tender heart. Even if—how had Hugh put it?—he wouldn’t have minded seeing Hugh dead.
“Lillias... I thought... I never thought...” Giles drew in a breath.
Then think, Giles.
Hope surged painfully. Perhaps Hugh was right. All Giles had needed all along was a little incentive. A reason totryin a life that had contained so very little need to try, when his life thus far had essentially amounted to a groaning buffet at a party. How much more of a prize she would seem then, if she was won away from a worthy competitor? Giles had won the Sussex Marksmanship Trophy one year, and he’d been chuffed about that. He liked competing.
She said very, very carefully, “I will admit to feeling a similar sentiment when you spoke to me of Lady Harriette two months ago.”
He frowned, puzzled. “I was certain I’d mademention of her well before that. Surely you know of the Dervall family.”
“Of course I know of them. But no, you hadn’t mentioned it. Giles... I would haveremembered if you had.”
Perhaps it was her tone.
But his expression changed subtly.
She could almost see the moment when he was awakened to both ramifications and possibilities.
He was silent. Thoughtful.
“I do hope you and Mr. Cassidy are able to join us at Heatherfield for a picnic.”
“As he mentioned, Mr. Cassidy must away to Portsmouth on a bit of business very early in the morning the day after tomorrow. But I’m certain he would enjoy a picnic in Richmond, and my parents would be delighted to join us, too, I’m sure. Shall we arrive in the morning?”
“By eleven o’clock. We’ll have a memorable day, like so many other days we’ve shared.”
She smiled. “I’m certain it will be.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Well, that went much better than I expected, Lillias!”
The countess had loosened her stays and was sprawling happily on one of the little settees in their sitting room in The Grand Palace on the Thames suite. “It was clever to wait for everyone to be more than a little drunk before we arrived, I think. They may or may not remember you announced an engagement at all, and may not have time to be shocked later.”
Lillias stifled a smile. Her mother wasn’t an imbiber of much beyond tea, usually, but when a social occasion featured a punch bowl she saw it as her duty to enter into the spirit of the festivities. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was listing a little.
And she wasn’t going to remind her that the Marquess of Landover had already informed half theton.
Her mother noticed the smile and smiled back at her. “I do rather miss my lady’s maid.” Her mother gave her hair a push up out of her eyes. “A bit of a challenge to get all the pins out when one has had a cup or two of ratafia.”
“Or three or four,” Lillias said mischievously.
“Oh, why count?” her mother said breezily. The word “count” evolved into a wide yawn.
“But it seems Mr. Cassidy made a smashing impression on your father’s friends. He knows so very many specific things.” She lifted a hand languidly.
Now Lillias was curious.
That Hugh did know specific things was inarguable—how a finger drawn along the inside of her arm could make her nipples go hard as little beads, for instance. But she was certain he wasn’t sharing that knowledge in company that included her father.
But she couldn’t be in that room where they discussed all of those things. What did they talk about? How did they see him?
“What sorts of specific things did they talk about?”