And he obviously couldn’t resist teasing her further, because he said, “Your family certainly wasn’t very subtle about it.”
“Oh,” she said, barely resisting a groan. “That.”
“That?”
“Them.”
“They’re not so bad,” he said.
“No,” she agreed. “But they are an acquired taste. I suppose I should apologize.”
“No need,” he murmured, but she suspected it was just an automatic platitude.
Hyacinth sighed. She was rather used to her family’s often desperate attempts to get her married off, but she could see where it might be a bit unsettling for the poor man in question. “If it makes you feel better,” she said, giving him a sympathetic glance, “you’re hardly the first gentleman they’ve tried to foist me upon.”
“How charmingly put.”
“Although if you think about it,” she said, “it is actually to our advantage if they do think we might make a match of it.”
“How is that?”
She thought furiously. She still wasn’t sure if she wished to set her cap for him, but she was sure that she didn’t want him to think that she had. Because if he did, and then he rejected her…well, nothing could be more brutal.
Or heartbreaking.
“Well,” she said, making it up as she went along, “we are going to need to spend a great deal of time in each other’s company, at least until we finish with the diary. If my family thinks there might be a church at the end of the journey, they are far less likely to quibble.”
He appeared to consider that. To Hyacinth’s surprise, however, he didn’t speak, which meant that she had to.
“The truth is,” she said, trying to sound very offhand and unconcerned, “they’re mad to get me off their hands.”
“I don’t think you’re being fair to your family,” he said softly.
Hyacinth’s lips parted with astonishment. There was an edge to his voice, something serious and unexpected. “Oh,” she said, blinking as she tried to come up with a suitable comment. “Well…”
He turned, and there was a strange, intense light in his eyes as he said, “You’re quite lucky to have them.”
She felt suddenly uncomfortable. Gareth was looking at her with such intensity—it was as if the world were dropping away around them, and they were only in Hyde Park for heaven’s sake, talking about her family…
“Well, yes,” she finally said.
When Gareth spoke, his tone was sharp. “They only love you and want what’s best for you.”
“Are you saying you’re what’s best for me?” Hyacinth teased. Because she had to tease. She didn’t know how else to react to his strange mood. Anything else would reveal too much.
And maybe her joke would force him to reveal something instead.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he said hotly.
Hyacinth stepped back. “I’m sorry,” she said, bewildered by his reaction.
But he wasn’t done. He looked at her squarely, his eyes flashing with something she’d never seen there before. “You should count your blessings that you come from a large and loving family.”
“I do. I—”
“Do you have any idea how many people I have in this world?” he cut in. He moved forward, closing in on her until he was uncomfortably close. “Do you?” he demanded. “One. Just one,” he said, not waiting for her reply. “My grandmother. And I would lay down my life for her.”
Hyacinth had never seen this sort of passion in him, hadn’t even dreamed he possessed it. He was normally so calm, so unflappable. Even that night at Bridgerton House, when he’d been upset by his encounter with his father, there had still been a certain air of levity about him. And then she realized what it was about him, what had set him apart…He was never quite serious.