“Perhaps I’ve changed my mind on the subject since encountering Bella that first night.”
“Bella?” Tristan’s brow lifted.
“Just because you may not believe in it,” Greg continued evenly, “that doesn’t mean it isn’t possible, Tristan.” And then he heaved a sigh of his own. “She’s unlike any lady of my acquaintance. And I have fallen quite under her spell.” And even as Greg said the words meant to convince and appease his brother, there was a part of him that knew they were most definitely true. Bella Winslett wasn’t like any girl he’d met before and falling under her spell would be only too easy to do.
She was innocent, honest, refreshing, truly an original. She wasn’t like any lady of his acquaintance. Cordie could take on the world with a strength not found in most men. Phoebe with her effervescent personality was often the center of attention. And Marina… A stab of pain pierced his heart at the thought of Marina. She’d been a master manipulator, playing with Greg’s affection for her from the very beginning. The longer she was gone, the clearer he saw her. But Bella…well, Bella wasn’t like any of them. He bit back a smile at the thought of the green paint on her cheek and how very easily she blushed. He intentionally pushed the memory of kissing her from his mind because the last thing he needed was a stiff cock again, especially with his brother watching him so closely across the coach.
“All right.” Tristan nodded. “You’re under her spell. But don’t you think it would have been wise to court her a bit before offering for her? What if the spell wears off and you find you don’t suit? I haven’t seen you be so reckless in many years, Greg.”
Indeed, it had been quite a while since anyone had called Greg reckless. Of course, there was no way really to explain his apparent hastiness away. So Greg changed tactics instead. “Worried we’ll out-bicker you and Phoebe?” He shook his head. “I hardly think that’s possible and look how in love the two of you are.”
A ghost of a smile settled on his brother’s lips and he conceded the point with a shrug. “We actually argue less than we did when she was betrothed to Russell.”
“Yes, well, now you both have an outlet for your pent up sexual energy.”
“That obvious, was it?” Tristan asked.
Actually, Tristan and Phoebe had hidden their feelings for each other rather well before they ran off to elope in Scotland, but saying as much would hardly aid Greg’s argument now. And he didn’t want to discuss his situation with Bella, not if it could be avoided. So he shrugged instead of answering. “Cordie says Russ’s new bride is a sweet girl.”
“And apparently he’s head over heels in love with her,” Tristan agreed. “So perhaps leopards can change their spots, after all.”
“Or perhaps it just takes finding the right girl…”
“And you think Lady Arabella is the right girl for you?” Tristan speared Greg with one more of his perceptive looks.
Greg swallowed a bit uncomfortably. God, he hoped his brother couldn’t see through him or all of this would have been for naught. “I wouldn’t have asked for her hand if I didn’t.”
“Oh!” Tristan gestured out the window. “There’s your future brother now.”
And Gillingham wasn’t even weaving. Perhaps he’d somehow sobered enough to listen to reason. Miracles were possible from time to time, weren’t they?
Greg opened the door to the coach and quickly stepped from the conveyance. “Gillingham,” he called after the man.
Bella’s brother turned on his heel and frowned into the darkness. “Who’s there?”
Greg increased his pace until he was almost upon the man. “I would like a word with you.”
The young baron blinked in Greg’s direction. “You’re the one marrying my sister.”
“Yes.” Greg nodded, relieved the dolt knew who he was. “And it’s actually Bella that I’d like to discuss with you.”
“With me?” Gillingham hiccupped. “I have no say over her. You should talk to my father or His Grace.”
And briefly Greg wondered if either of those men held any sway over Gillingham. If they did, he wondered why the devil they didn’t use it. “Do you have any idea how your actions have hurt Bella?”
“I haven’t hurt my sister.” He sounded belligerent all of a sudden, like an unhappy adolescent. “I’ve protected them. Both of them.”
“When you make a spectacle out of yourself in public you most certainly do hurt her,” Greg told him. “I’ve seen the expression on her face when you crash into refreshment tables or cast up your accounts upon—”
“That was you.”Gillingham’s eyes widened suddenly. “I thought you looked familiar.”
“Aye, that was me,” Greg grumbled. “So I know firsthand what I’m talking about. Whatever is going on with you, whatever demons you’re fighting, Gillingham…Get yourself together.”
The ne’er-do-well scowled.
“How can Bella show her face in public when you’re forever blackening your name?” Greg continued, reasonably. “Your actions reflect upon her, or haven’t you figured that out yet?”
“I don’t have to answer to you.” Gillingham turned and started back down Floral Street.