He glanced over his shoulder to find his brother-in-law standing just inside the threshold, and the earl looked far from pleased to find Greg standing before him. The feeling, as always, was mutual.
“Avery,” the earl grumbled in greeting.
“Clayworth,” he returned in kind.
Cordie released a sigh. There was no doubt in Greg’s mind that his sister wished he and Clayworth would see eye to eye one day, that they could find a way to tolerate each other’s existence. But that particular ship had sailed long ago, back before Marina had died, and it didn’t seem likely to ever return to port.
“Brendan,” Cordie began, as she brushed past Greg toward her husband. “I thought you’d left already.” Then she pressed a kiss to the earl’s cheek.
Clayworth shook his head. “Astwick cancelled. So I’m all yours this morning, mon minouche.”
“Oh Astwick!” Cordie giggled. “I am sorry we missed their ball last night. Apparently, it was the event of the Season.”
“If that was the event of the Season,” Greg muttered, “I can certainly miss the rest of it.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Clayworth cast his dismissive eye in Greg’s direction as though his comment was a slight directed toward his friend Aswtick in some way.
“Some fellow, Gilling-something, retched all over Greg’s boots last night,” Cordie explained.
“Gillingham?” The earl frowned.
“Do you know him?” Cordie asked.
Her husband shook his head. “I know the name. He’s heir apparent to the Chatham dukedom, and he’s got his vowels spread all over Town. Fellow isn’t welcome in half the clubs, last I heard.”
“Well, he certainly isn’t welcome anywhere near me,” Greg returned. “The fellow could barely stand upright last night. He had no business being anywhere near that ballroom.”
“Tris said his poor sister was mortified,” Cordie added, a slight frown on her face.
The image of the raven-haired beauty from the night before flashed in Greg’s mind. “She was his sister?” he asked aloud, before he thought the better of it.
Cordie’s dark brow lifted with curiosity. Even the little cherub in her arms stared at Greg with interest. “I’m sorry. Of whom are we speaking?”
Greg shook his head in response. Damn it all, he shouldn’t have said anything about the girl in front of his sister. Cordie would make something of it, and there was nothing to make out of anything. He’d just assumed Gillingham was courting the pretty brunette, not that he was the girl’s relation. No self-respecting lady would ask her pickled brother to escort her to a ball, after all. “No one.”
“No one?” his sister echoed, not sounding convinced in the least.
Greg heaved a sigh. “No. No one. I’m just surprised the drunkard was escorting his sister. One would think the man, no matter how ungentlemanly, would have his sister’s care in the forefront of his mind.”
“Would one?” Clayworth asked, as though unable to stop the barb from escaping his lips. It was no secret the earl thought Greg should have taken better care of Cordie when she was under his care, and on that…well, on that Greg agreed with the earl wholeheartedly. He hadn’t done his duty as far as his sister was concerned. Discovering the treatment she’d been subjected to at their mother’s hands was something that still haunted him. If he could undo the damage done, he’d do so in a heartbeat.
“Brendan,” Cordie chastised. Though there was no reason for her to do so. On this matter, her husband was completely correct.
Unapologetically, Clayworth nodded to his wife. “I think I’ll retire to my study. If you need me, you’ll know where to find me.” And then he was gone.
“I can never make amends for not being there for you, Cordie. I…well, all I can do is tell you how very sorry I am that I didn’t ensure your safety. I—”
“That’s all in the past.” Cordie reached for Greg’s hand and squeezed it gently, effectively halting his words. “But at some point, I hope you and Brendan can be in the same room without the two of you wanting to tear the other to pieces.”
Greg shook his head. “You’d be better off wishing the night sky would turn to sapphires and drop at your feet.”
His sister laughed. “Well, I’ll have you know, I can wish for a great many things, Gregory Avery. And that is now on my list.”
* * *
There were somany people milling about Hyde Park today. It was almost like a hive of energy. Bella glanced out at the sea of people. A governess chased after a little boy who darted in and out of the others out for a stroll. A trio of sisters had their heads tipped together, giggling about something. But it was a couple walking arm in arm who seemed so engrossed with each other they didn’t appear to notice anything else in the world that truly captured Bella’s interest. Their shared look, their expressions of complete devotion tugged at her heart. They were perfect.
Bella glanced back down at her sketchpad and tried very quickly to duplicate the expressions the pair wore. Her almond shaped eyes were wide and there was a particular sparkle in his blue ones.