“Gareth turned to Gregory. “Your sister will be safewith me,” he said. “I give you my vow.”“Oh, I have no worries on that score,” Gregory saidwith a bland smile. “The real question is—will you besafe with her?”It was a good thing, Gareth later reflected, that Hyacinthhad already quit the room to fetch her coat and hermaid. She probably would have killed her brother on thespot.”

“I understand that you are an accomplished swords-man,” she finally said.He eyed her curiously. Where was she going with this? “I like to fence, yes,” he replied.“I have always wanted to learn.”“Good God,” Gregory grunted.“I would be quite good at it,” she protested.“I’m sure you would,” her brother replied, “which is why you should never be allowed within thirty feet of a sword.” He turned to Gareth. “She’s quite diabolical.”“Yes, I’d noticed,” Gareth murmured, deciding that maybe there might be a bit more to Hyacinth’s brother than he had thought.Gregory shrugged, reaching for a piece of shortbread. “It’s probably why we can’t seem to get her married off.”“Gregory!” This came from Hyacinth, but that was only because Lady Bridgerton had excused herself and followed one of the footmen into the hall.“It’s a compliment!” Gregory protested. “Haven’t you waited your entire life for me to agree that you’re smarter than any of the poor fools who have attempted to court you?”“You might find it difficult to believe,” Hyacinth shot back, “but I haven’t been going to bed each night thinking to myself—Oh, I do wish my brother would offer me something that passes for a compliment in his twisted mind.”

“Milk?” Lady Bridgerton asked.“Thank you,” Gareth replied. “No sugar, if you please.”“Hyacinth takes hers with three,” Gregory said, reaching for a piece of shortbread.“Why,” Hyacinth ground out, “would he care?”“Well,” Gregory replied, taking a bite and chewing, “he is your special friend.”

“Will you be quiet?" he asked, smiling down at her. She nodded.He pretended to think about it. "I don't believe you/"She planted her hands on her hips, which had to be a ludicrous postition, naked as she was from the waist up. All right," he acceded, "but the only words I'll allow from your mouth are, 'Oh, Gareth,' and 'Yes, Gareth.'He lifted his finger.What about 'More, Gareth?'"He almost kept a straith face. "That will be acceptable”

“Gareth sucked in a breath. Hyacinth’s brother wasn’t going to make this easy on him. But that didn’t matter. He had vowed to do this right, and he would not be cowed.He looked up, meeting the viscount’s dark eyes with steady purpose. “I would like to marry Hyacinth,” he said. And then, because the viscount did not say anything, because he didn’t even move, Gareth added, “Er, if she’ll have me.”And then about eight things happened at once. Or perhaps there were merely two or three, and it just seemed like eight, because it was all so unexpected.First, the viscount exhaled, although that did seem to understate the case. It was more of a sigh, actually—a huge, tired, heartfelt sigh that made the man positively deflate in front of Gareth. Which was astonishing. Gareth had seen the viscount on many occasions and was quite familiar with his reputation. This was not a man who sagged or groaned.His lips seemed to move through the whole thing, too, and if Gareth were a more suspicious man, he would have thought that the viscount had said, “Thank you, Lord.”Combined with the heavenward tilt of the viscount’s eyes, it did seem the most likely translation.And then, just as Gareth was taking all of this in, Lord Bridgerton let the palms of his hands fall against the desk with surprising force, and he looked Gareth squarely in the eye as he said, “Oh, she’ll have you. She will definitely have you.”It wasn’t quite what Gareth had expected. “I beg your pardon,” he said, since truly, he could think of nothing else.“I need a drink,” the viscount said, rising to his feet. “A celebration is in order, don’t you think?”“Er…yes?”Lord Bridgerton crossed the room to a recessed bookcase and plucked a cut-glass decanter off one of the shelves. “No,” he said to himself, putting it haphazardly back into place, “the good stuff, I think.” He turned to Gareth, his eyes taking on a strange, almost giddy light. “The good stuff, wouldn’t you agree?”“Ehhhh…” Gareth wasn’t quite sure what to make of this.“The good stuff,” the viscount said firmly. He moved some books to the side and reached behind to pull out what looked to be a very old bottle of cognac. “Have to keep it hidden,” he explained, pouring it liberally into two glasses.“Servants?” Gareth asked.“Brothers.” He handed Gareth a glass. “Welcome to the family.”

“Well,” he said with an affected sigh, “you have my approval, at least.”“Why?” Hyacinth asked suspiciously.“It would be an excellent match,” he continued. “If nothing else, think of the children.”She knew she’d regret it, but still she had to ask. “What children?”He grinned. “The lovely lithping children you could have together. Garethhhh and Hyathinthhhh. Hyathinth and Gareth. And the thublime Thinclair tots.”Hyacinth stared at him like he was an idiot.Which he was, she was quite certain of it.She shook her head. “How on earth Mother managed to give birth to seven perfectly normal children and one freak is beyond me.""Thith way to the nurthery.” Gregory laughed as sheheaded back into the room. “With the thcrumptious littleTharah and Thamuel Thinclair. Oh, yeth, and don’t forgetwee little Thuthannah!”