Julia Quinn - It’s In His Kiss

“I understand that you are an accomplished swords-man,” she finally said.

He eyed her curiously. Where was she going with this? “I like to fence, yes,” he replied.

“I have always wanted to learn.”

“Good God,” Gregory grunted.

“I would be quite good at it,” she protested.

“I’m sure you would,” her brother replied, “which is why you should never be allowed within thirty feet of a sword.” He turned to Gareth. “She’s quite diabolical.”

“Yes, I’d noticed,” Gareth murmured, deciding that maybe there might be a bit more to Hyacinth’s brother than he had thought.

Gregory shrugged, reaching for a piece of shortbread. “It’s probably why we can’t seem to get her married off.”

“Gregory!” This came from Hyacinth, but that was only because Lady Bridgerton had excused herself and followed one of the footmen into the hall.

“It’s a compliment!” Gregory protested. “Haven’t you waited your entire life for me to agree that you’re smarter than any of the poor fools who have attempted to court you?”

“You might find it difficult to believe,” Hyacinth shot back, “but I haven’t been going to bed each night thinking to myself-Oh, I do wish my brother would offer me something that passes for a compliment in his twisted mind.”

Gareth choked on his tea.

Gregory turned to Gareth. “Do you see why I call her diabolical?”

“I refuse to comment,” Gareth said.

“Look who is here!” came Lady Bridgerton’s voice. And just in time, Gareth thought. Ten more seconds, and Hyacinth would have quite cheerfully murdered her brother.

Gareth turned to the doorway and immediately rose to his feet. Behind Lady Bridgerton stood one of Hyacinth’s older sisters, the one who had married a duke. Or at least he thought that was the one. They all looked vexingly alike, and he couldn’t be sure.

“Daphne!” Hyacinth said. “Come sit by me.”

“There’s no room next to you,” Daphne said, blinking in confusion.

“There will be,” Hyacinth said with cheerful venom, “as soon as Gregory gets up.”

Gregory made a great show of offering his seat to his older sister.

“Children,” Lady Bridgerton said with a sigh as she retook her seat. “I am never quite certain if I’m glad I had them.”

But no one could ever have mistaken the humor in her voice for anything other than love. Gareth found himself rather charmed. Hyacinth’s brother was a bit of a pest, or at least he was when Hyacinth was in the vicinity, and the few times he’d heard more than two Bridgertons in the same conversation, they had talked all over each other and rarely resisted the impulse to trade sly jibes.

But they loved each other. Beneath the noise, it was startlingly clear.

“It is good to see you, your grace,” Gareth said to the young duchess, once she’d seated herself next to Hyacinth.

“Please, call me Daphne,” she said with a sunny smile. “There is no need to be so formal if you are a friend of Hyacinth’s. Besides,” she said, taking a cup and pouring herself some tea, “I cannot feel like a duchess in my mother’s sitting room.”

“What do you feel like, then?”

“Hmmm.” She took a sip of her tea. “Just Daphne Bridgerton, I suppose. It’s difficult to shed the surname in this clan. In spirit, that is.”

“I hope that is a compliment,” Lady Bridgerton remarked.

Daphne just smiled at her mother. “I shall never escape you, I’m afraid.” She turned to Gareth. “There is nothing like one’s family to make one feel like one has never grown up.”

Gareth thought about his recent encounter with the baron and said, with perhaps more feeling than he ought to make verbal, “I know precisely what you mean.”

“Yes,” the duchess said, “I expect you do.”

Gareth said nothing. His estrangement from the baron was certainly common enough knowledge, even if the reason for it was not.

“How are the children, Daphne?” Lady Bridgerton asked.

“Mischievous as always. David wants a puppy, preferably one that will grow to the size of a small pony, and Caroline is desperate to return to Benedict’s.” She sipped at her tea and turned to Gareth. “My daughter spent three weeks with my brother and his family last month. He has been giving her drawing lessons.”

“He is an accomplished artist, is he not?”

“Two paintings in the National Gallery,” Lady Bridgerton said, beaming with pride.

“He rarely comes to town, though,” Hyacinth said.

“He and his wife prefer the quiet of the country,” her mother said. But there was a very faint edge to her voice. A firmness meant to indicate that she did not wish to discuss the matter any further.

At least not in front of Gareth.

Gareth tried to recall if he had ever heard some sort of scandal attached to Benedict Bridgerton. He didn’t think so, but then again, Gareth was at least a decade his junior, and if there was something untoward in his past, it would probably have occurred before Gareth had moved to town.

He glanced over at Hyacinth to see her reaction to her mother’s words. It hadn’t been a scolding, not exactly, but it was clear that she’d wanted to stop Hyacinth from speaking further.

But if Hyacinth took offense, she wasn’t showing it. She turned her attention to the window and was staring out, her brows pulled slightly together as she blinked.

“Is it warm out of doors?” she asked, turning to her sister. “It looks sunny.”

“It is quite,” Daphne said, sipping her tea. “I walked over from Hastings House.”

“I should love to go for a walk,” Hyacinth announced.

It took Gareth only a second to recognize his cue. “I would be delighted to escort you, Miss Bridgerton.”

“Would you?” Hyacinth said with a dazzling smile.

“I was out this morning,” Lady Bridgerton said. “The crocuses are in bloom in the park. A bit past the Guard House.”

Gareth almost smiled. The Guard House was at the far end of Hyde Park. It would take half the afternoon to get there and back.

He rose to his feet and offered her his arm. “Shall we see the crocuses then?”

“That would be delightful.” Hyacinth stood. “I just need to fetch my maid to accompany us.”

Gregory pushed himself off the windowsill, upon which he’d been leaning. “Perhaps I’ll come along, too,” he said.

Hyacinth threw him a glare.

“Or perhaps I won’t,” he murmured.

“I need you here, in any case,” Lady Bridgerton said.

“Really?” Gregory smiled innocently. “Why?”

“Because I do,” she ground out.

Gareth turned to Gregory. “Your sister will be safe with me,” he said. “I give you my vow.”

“Oh, I have no worries on that score,” Gregory said with a bland smile. “The real question is-will you be safe with her?”

It was a good thing, Gareth later reflected, that Hyacinth had already quit the room to fetch her coat and her maid. She probably would have killed her brother on the spot.

A quarter of an hour later. Hyacinth is completely unaware that her life is about to change.

“Your maid is discreet?” Gareth asked, just as soon as he and Hyacinth were standing on the pavement outside of Number Five.

“Oh, don’t worry about Frances,” Hyacinth said, adjusting her gloves. “She and I have an understanding.”

He lifted his brows in an expression of lazy humor. “Why do those words, coming from your lips, strike terror in my soul?”

“I’m sure I don’t know,” Hyacinth said blithely, “but I can assure you that she won’t come within twenty feet of us while we’re strolling. We have only to stop and get her a tin of peppermints.”

“Peppermints?”

“She’s easily bribed,” Hyacinth explained, looking back at Frances, who had already assumed the requisite distance to the couple and was now looking quite bored. “All the best maids are.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Gareth murmured.

“That I find difficult to believe,” Hyacinth said. He had probably bribed maids all across London. Hyacinth couldn’t imagine that he could have made it to his age, with his reputation, and not have had an affair with a woman who wanted it kept secret.

He smiled inscrutably. “A gentleman never tells.”

Hyacinth decided not to pursue the topic any further. Not, of course, because she wasn’t curious, but rather because she thought he’d meant what he’d said, and he wasn’t going to spill any secrets, delicious though they might be.

And really, why waste one’s energy if one was going to get nowhere?

“I thought we would never escape,” she said, once they’d reached the end of her street. “I have much to tell you.”

He turned to her with obvious interest. “Were you able to translate the note?”

Hyacinth glanced behind her. She knew she’d said Frances would remain far in back, but it was always good to check, especially as Gregory was no stranger to the concept of bribery, either.

“Yes,” she said, once she was satisfied that they would not be overheard. “Well, most of it, at least. Enough to know that we need to focus our search in the library.”

Gareth chuckled.

“Why is that funny?”

“Isabella was a great deal sharper than she let on. If she’d wanted to pick a room that her husband was not likely to enter, she could not have done better than the library. Except for the bedroom, I suppose, but”-he turned and gazed down at her with an annoyingly paternalistic glance-“that’s not a topic for your ears.”

“Stuffy man,” she muttered.

“Not an accusation that is often flung my way,” he said with a slightly amused smile, “but clearly you bring out the best in me.”

He was so patently sarcastic that Hyacinth could do nothing but scowl.

“The library, you say,” Gareth mused, after taking a moment to enjoy Hyacinth’s distress. “It makes perfect sense. My father’s father was no intellectual.”