Page 70 of Wicked By Design

Cilly took a breath, doing her best to appear patient when she wanted to shake the explanation from him. “Very well, explain how it is different,” she said, determined to be reasonable.

He sent her a look of sheer exasperation, but Cilly just folded her hands in her lap and looked back at him, waiting.

A muscle ticked in his cheek. “I will not discuss my… my paramours with my fiancée.”

“Then I shall not tell you when I am upset. The next time I believe I shall wish for some rare and tropical orchid to soothe my nerves. You might wish to read up on how and where to find one,” she said crossly, and got to her feet, about to make a splendid exit with her head held high.

“Oh, don’t do that,” he said, reaching for arm and halting her before she could leave. “Don’t make out it is the same thing.”

“No, Damian, it is not the same thing. This is far more important, our entire future is at stake, and I intend to fight for it, and if you expect me to fight fair after the way I trapped you into marrying me… well, you’re a fool.”

He let out a bitter laugh that made Cilly’s heart hurt. “Well, you’ll get no argument here, love.”

She sighed and took a step closer, smoothing her hand over his shoulders, an intimate gesture that felt wonderfully proprietary. Mine, it seemed to say, and she wondered if he felt it too, if he liked it or wanted to run for the hills.

“How is it different?” she asked gently.

He frowned down at her. “I don’t—I don’t wish to discuss it with you,” he ground out.

Cilly glared up at him. “I do wish you would stop thinking of me as some innocent ninny. I am six and twenty, Damian, and I know a good deal about the world and how people live. Even the lives of less than respectable men and women. I know how babies are made, if it is that which is making you look like you are sat upon thorns, you need not explain it all to me.”

Indignation flashed in his eyes, and he brushed her hands away, taking a step back. “Very well, my love, if you are so very sophisticated. If you know how babies are made, you will understand there are other things a man can do with a female which do not risk creating the little cherubs. These are the methods I employ, and ones I will not use upon my lady wife.”

His voice rose as he spoke, his anger apparent, but Cilly was too curious to care that he was furious now.

“Whyever not?”

He stared at her, outrage shining in his eyes, in every rigid line of his stiff frame.

“Because with you, it would never be enough, dammit!” he shouted, and turned away, stalking off and leaving her alone beside the fountain.

“Oh,” Cilly said faintly, her hand pressed to her heart as she watched him leave.

Chapter 16

The Lady and the Tiger

All Saints’ Church, Little Valentine, East Sussex, 21stSeptember 1816

Gideon eyed his brother nervously. It was only right that he be a little on edge, it was his wedding day after all. Yet he’d been acting strangely the past week or two, and not the usual sort of strange. Damian could be erratic and unpredictable, but this was different.

Gideon had thought a good deal about Damian in the past weeks, ever since he’d discovered he was only his half-brother, actually. He realised something of late, something he did not dare voice aloud to Damian for fear of having his head bitten off. But it occurred to him now that the behaviour that had always worried him, that had made Damian appear to bear the same characteristics as his mother, all stemmed from fear and memories of the past. He slept badly because of the nightmares, lack of sleep made him irascible and gave him headaches, and so he drank to avoid the nightmares, which only made things worse. Gideon had tried to remember a single moment when Damian had seemed less than rational and not just rash or ill-judged, where his behaviour had echoed their mother’s. Granted, Gideon only had descriptions of her behaviour as he’d been too young to remember now, but there was nothing, no similarity.

Since meeting Cecilia, Damian had stopped drinking, and he’d clearly been sleeping better. He’d been reliable, sensible and even thoughtful. Though Gideon wondered if the strain of such behaviour had taken its toll, for his brother looked pale and resigned, sitting at the front of the church, waiting for his bride to arrive.

He’d insisted on arriving far too early, and Gideon stood up, needing to move about in the chilly gloom of the interior to warm himself up.

“Here,” he said, offering Damian his silver flask, a wedding present from Hetty. She’d said he’d need a nip now and then if he was going to survive being married to her. Damian glanced at the flask and shook his head.

Gideon stared at him. Damian never turned down a drink when he was edgy.

Taking a sip himself, he replaced the cap and tucked the flask away, frowning at his brother.

“Are you all right?”

Damian looked up, his brows tugging together. “Of course I’m all right. Why shouldn’t I be?”

Gideon shrugged and sat down again. “Well, it’s a big thing, getting married, making promises before God. I didn’t think it would affect me so profoundly, but I felt the weight of it, standing up there, with Hetty placing herself and her future in my hands.”