“Of course, and I can bring the twins to see you as well,” Walter said. “Your school is only an hour’s drive from the city.”
“I’d like that,” Oscar said before he rose to his feet right as Gideon strode into the drawing room.
When Gideon shook Oscar’s hand and told him how impressed he was with his quick thinking under extreme pressure, Oscar beamed at the man’s praise and then excused himself, saying he was off to check on poor Bert, who’d been returned to the stables and was giving the groom sent to fetch him all sorts of trouble.
After Oscar quit the room, confidence in his every step, as if he’d aged a few years in a day, Walter nodded to Benson, his butler, who’d been parked right outside the door ever since Walter returned home. “You’ll follow him?” he asked.
Benson inclined his head. “Indeed. But you know he’ll realize I’m following him, don’t you?”
“After the day we’ve had, I don’t believe he’s going to be surprised—or offended, for that matter—that his father isn’t going to take his safety for granted. I won’t take that safety for granted ever again. Perhaps we’ll have to consider sending you off to school with him.”
“That might be taking the matter entirely too far, sir, and will certainly offend Master Oscar, because what boy wants a butler dogging his heels?”
As Benson headed out of the room, Gideon settled himself in a chair by the fireplace.
“Anything new to report since we hauled Daniel and Hank into Frank’s carriage and took them to jail?” Walter asked.
Gideon leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees. “Daniel immediately sent for his parents, who arrived at the jail with their attorney in tow. Given the direness of Daniel’s crimes, the judge, who was summoned from his sleep, refused to grant bond—something that had the Mizners causing quite a scene, but to no avail.
“Hank, unsurprisingly, sent a message off to Vernon’s Gambling Den. I imagine Vernon is going to ignore Hank’s request for assistance, but I’ll make certain of that. After I return to the city, I’ll have a word with Vernon and encourage him to distance himself from this situation.”
“You’re on speaking terms with Vernon?”
“You’d be surprised with whom I’m on speaking terms, but now isn’t the time to get into that.”
“I doubt we’ll ever get into that, Gideon, what with the clandestine nature of whatever it is you actually do.”
“True,” Gideon said cheerfully. “I can tell you that Frank and Catriona seemed to be getting along quite well. I think Gwendolyn may have made a perfect match with them.
“But speaking of Gwendolyn, where is she, or better yet, what are you intending to do about her? She told me earlier you thought the children were right about her making a wonderful mother. From what little else she disclosed, I got the distinct impression the two of you might have exchanged a few . . . words.”
“Exchanged would not be accurate since she did most of the talking. Needless to say, she’s not receptive to becoming the children’s mother, but not because of them—because of me.”
“Did you tell her you love her?”
Walter blinked. “Do you think that may have helped my case?”
“If you actually love her, yes, but . . .” Gideon frowned. “Do you love her?”
“I haven’t really considered the matter. I have been thinking about her often of late, and I get an odd feeling in my stomach when I do that thinking. Truth be told, I’ve never experienced such a peculiar sensation when I’ve thought about a lady before, and when you pair that with the notion I find Gwendolyn to be the most exceptional lady I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting . . . I might be experiencing love. But I’m hardly an expert on the matter. What do you think?”
Gideon settled into the chair. “I’ve never been in love, so how would I know? However, I’ve seen how you watch Gwendolyn, and I’d say you hold her in very high esteem. But only you can decide if that esteem is love.”
Walter released a sigh. “I’m afraid I blundered badly with her. I didn’t even extend her a proper proposal, merely suggested an alliance between us would be beneficial because of the children and . . . I may have mentioned I thought she’d been becoming fond of me.”
Gideon blinked. “A Romeo move if there ever was one.”
“I’ve never claimed to be proficient in the art of romance.”
“Good thing, because I don’t think I’ve ever heard a gentleman make such a muddle of a proposal before.”
“It was a muddle for the ages,” Walter agreed. “The problem is how to proceed from here.”
“I suggest you sort through your emotions, my friend. If you come to the realization you’re more than fond of Gwendolyn, you’ll then need to figure out how best to disclose that revelation to her, and then hope for the best.”
Gideon stretched his arms over his head. “While you contemplate love and Gwendolyn and how you might go about making amends with her, I’m going to repair to my cottage. It’s been quite the day, and I need to get back to the city tomorrow, so I’m off to find my bed.” Gideon stood. “Do have a care if you decide to speak to Gwendolyn about a possible future together. She’s incredibly intelligent and may take a declaration of love from you as simply your way of convincing her to marry you so you can provide your children with a mother who certainly would be able to love them.”
“I’m not that calculating.”
“She doesn’t know that, because the two of you haven’t known each other long. With that said, Gwendolyn Brinley is a lady I doubt you’ll ever be able to forget, so keep that in mind before you say something to her that will see you losing her forever.”
“Hardly helpful,” Walter muttered as Gideon grinned and strode from the room.
Several minutes later, realizing he might be lingering in the drawing room because he truly didn’t know how to proceed with a tricky situation—one that went by the name of Gwendolyn—Walter forced himself off the chaise and made his way to the nursery. He stopped just outside the door as his gaze settled on Gwendolyn, who was sitting on Priscilla’s bed, his daughter tucked closely against her while Samuel sat at the foot of the bed, Rat asleep on his lap.
Ethel and Matilda were sitting in chairs pulled up next to the bed, both women watching their grandchildren, who were watching Gwendolyn as she read them a story.
He found himself unable to move as he continued watching her, appreciating the way she told a story, but mostly just appreciating her.
She truly was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, even though her hair was straggling from its pins, there was a streak of dirt running across her cheek, and her gown sported more than a few grass stains—probably from the grass she’d been hiding in during the kidnapping disaster.
“And there we have it, a happily ever after,” Gwendolyn finally said, kissing the top of Priscilla’s head as she closed the book. “And with that happy ending, it’s time for you and Samuel to go to bed.”
Priscilla tipped back her head. “Will you be here when we wake up?”