“Oh.” Harry lowered her lashes. “I had thought— I apologize if I was being presumptuous. You said— I had thought you liked me.” What a fool she was.
By mutual consent, she and Gideon had indulged in several intense encounters that had resulted in hitherto unknown pleasure for Harry. But a friendship could not be based on those shared intimacies alone.
“Harry, I not only like you, I adore you!” Gideon cut in on her racing thoughts. “I have no intention of anyone or anything detracting from that.”
She eyed him cautiously. “You adore me?”
He inclined his head. “I do.”
What did that mean?
Harry loved her father and brother. But she had adored her pet rabbit when she was a child, that affection passing to the puppy her father bought her after the rabbit’s demise a few years later. More recently, that adoration had been reserved for the beautiful brown mare her father had bought for her a year ago.
But Harry was not a rabbit, a puppy, or a horse. Nor did she have any idea what Gideon’s claim of adoring her meant.
She lowered her lashes again, reluctant to let Gideon see the tentative hope that must surely be visible in her eyes. “Will you come and talk to my father?” The earlier the situation of her brother’s actions was resolved, the sooner she and Gideon could resume this conversation.
Could perhaps resume this conversation.
If her brother really had killed one of Gideon’s closest friends, Harry could not see how the two of them could continue to have even a friendship.
* * *
Gideon’s chest tightened with the knowledge Harry had not returned his claim of adoring her.
Because she didn’t return that affection?
It was highly possible, Gideon acknowledged. Just because the two of them had been intimate together did not mean their feelings for each other were of the same intensity. Gideon, more physically experienced, was totally aware of how unusual their pleasure in each other was. Harry, having nothing to compare that pleasure to, could have no idea how rare such an instantaneous physical connection was.
How ironic it would be if, having at last found the woman he wished to spend his life with, she did not feel the same way about him!
No doubt all those ladies in Society whom Gideon had rebuffed over the years would find his dilemma highly amusing.
But he would not give up hope.
How could he when Harry was everything, and more, than he could ever have wished or hoped for?
Gideon straightened. “I believe your brother, uncle, and Robert Granger should also be present during my conversation with your father.”
Harry recoiled. “What if my brother refuses or becomes violent?”
“If that should be the case, then I am sure Granger and your uncle and I are more than capable of restraining him.” He reached out to once again grasp her hands in his. “If your brother is guilty, I shall do everything in my power to ensure he does not hang.”
Except Gideon knew his power might not be enough, that if Henlow had killed Plymouth, the other Ruthless Dukes might insist the full letter of the law was adhered to.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I hope you have good reason for summoning me from my game of billiards.” Edward scowled as he entered the bedchamber where Harry, Gideon, and their uncle had already gathered. Robert Granger entered the room behind him and closed the door with a decisive click. “I was about to win a hundred pounds off Bradshaw!” Her brother threw himself down petulantly into the chair in one of the bay windows in the room, one of his legs draped over the arm. Robert Granger crossed the room to lean against the wall beside him.
“An amount I am sure would not even begin to touch your outstanding debts,” her father murmured morosely.
“Not this again.” Edward gave a roll of his eyes. “I have told you I do not have any debts.”
“Telling me something does not make it the truth.”
“You—”
“Edward!” Harry rebuked sharply.