Hyacinth froze. Surely he couldn’t have known…No one had seen them. She was sure of that.
“At Bridgerton House,” Gregory continued. “Off in the corner of the ballroom.”
Hyacinth let out a long, quiet breath before turning back around.
Gregory was looking at her with a casual, offhand smile, but Hyacinth could tell that there was something more to his expression, a certain shrewd look in his eye.
Most of his behavior to the contrary, her brother was not stupid. And he seemed to think it was his role in life to watch over his younger sister. Probably because he was the second youngest, and she was the only one with whom he could try to assume a superior role. The rest certainly would not have stood for it.
“I’m friends with his grandmother,” Hyacinth said, since it seemed nicely neutral and dull. “You know that.”
He shrugged. It was a gesture they shared, and sometimes Hyacinth felt she was looking in a mirror, which seemed mad, since he was a full foot taller than she was.
“You certainly looked to be in deep conversation about something,” he said.
“It was nothing in which you’d be interested.”
One of his brows arched annoyingly up. “I might surprise you.”
“You rarely do.”
“Are you setting your cap for him?”
“That’s none of your business,” she said tartly.
Gregory looked triumphant. “Then you are.”
Hyacinth lifted her chin, looking her brother squarely in the eye. “I don’t know,” she said, since despite their constant bickering, he probably knew her better than anyone else in the world. And he’d know it for certain if she were lying.
Either that, or he would torture her until the truth slipped out, anyway.
Gregory’s brows disappeared under the fringe of his hair, which, admittedly, was too long and constantly falling in his eyes. “Really?” he asked. “Well, that is news.”
“For your ears only,” Hyacinth warned, “and it’s not really news. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Still.”
“I mean this, Gregory,” Hyacinth said. “Don’t make me regret confiding in you.”
“Ye of little faith.”
He sounded far too flip for her comfort. Hands on hips, she said, “I only told you this because very occasionally you’re not a complete idiot and despite all common sense, I do love you.”
His face sobered, and she was reminded that despite her brother’s asinine (in her opinion) attempts to appear the jaunty wastrel, he was actually quite intelligent and in possession of a heart of gold.
A devious heart of gold.
“And don’t forget,” Hyacinth felt it was necessary to add, “that I said maybe.”
His brows came together. “Did you?”
“If I didn’t, then I meant to.”
He motioned magnanimously with his hand. “If there’s anything I can do.”
“Nothing,” she said firmly, horrifying visions of Gregory’s meddling floating through her mind. “Absolutely nothing. Please.”
“Surely a waste of my talents.”