But she couldn’t think of food now. Instead, she poured herself a cup of steamy coffee, then sank into a gondola-back chair at the head of the American Empire table. She brushed an errant lock of ebony hair off her shoulder, then studied the hallway with her dark eyes. In dread over the confrontation she was certain would occur before the breakfast hour concluded, her fingers drummed the burnished mahogany tabletop.

Eventually, boot heels erupted in the hallway, announcing the approach of one of the participants. Hyatt Masterson Lynchfield, her husband of six months and eight years her senior, entered the room. Dressed in a black suit, a gold waistcoat over a starched and impeccably creased ruffled shirt, and a gold-satin cravat, he looked as dapper as ever. But a look of annoyance marred his handsome face as his gray eyes swept the room. “He’s not down yet?”

Briana forced a smile. “No, darling. I haven’t seen him this morning,” she said in a chipper voice, then gestured to the sideboard, hoping to change the subject. “You’d best hurry and eat before the food gets cold. Nadine’s prepared a splendid feast.”

Hyatt shook his head in annoyance. He brushed his hand over his neatly trimmed mustache and beard, then stepped to the table and began filling a plate with breakfast fare. “Are you aware of what time he came home last evening?” She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “Long after midnight.” Plate in hand, Hyatt turned to her. “I heard him stumble in. That can not happen again.”

“Darling, please—”

“What does your brother think this is—a boardinghouse south of the canal?” He sat at the opposing end of the long table. Sunshine cast his hazel hair in a reddish hue. “He can’t just come and go as he pleases. I have a reputation to protect, and his returning home in the wee hours after a night of drunken shenanigans is more than I will tolerate.”

“I’m guessing he spent the night celebrating with his friend, Seth, and lost track of the time.”

“Celebrating? You’re not certain of that. Most likely he spent the night drinking away his sorrows in the company of—” He blushed, then gobbled his food.

Briana sighed. She knew what Hyatt was thinking. She, too, was aware of Gideon’s fondness for a certain class of women. In Baltimore, it had been a nasty habit. She only hoped he hadn’t been in Washington long enough to discover the houses of ill repute. “No, darling, I believe you’re mistaken,” she lied. “And besides, what makes you think he didn’t get the job at Brady’s? After all, Gideon has considerable talent. And Brady’s Gallery agreed to meet with him on the basis of his past work.”

Hyatt shrugged. “Past work aside, his—well—his smart mouth and truculent attitude may have been a stumbling block. Some people won’t suffer his manner.”

“Gideon can be quite charming when he wants to be.”

“A rare occurrence. Don’t forget, the elections are nearing. And once the new administration takes over I will be seeking a political appointment. I won’t have him ruining my chances.”

“How could he do that?”

“I can’t have a brother-in-law staggering about this town in a drunken stupor, enjoying the company of—women of the city—and shooting off his mouth to anyone whom he feels has somehow insulted him. And no amount of money will be able to salvage my reputation. He needs to learn the meaning of decorum before he causes embarrassment upon the good Lynchfield name.”

“Don’t worry. He won’t.”

Hyatt swallowed a mouthful of ham. Thick eyebrows met in the center of his forehead as his brow furrowed. “You, of all people, know better than to say that. There are no guarantees. Honestly, the two of you are as different as night and day. Your actions, my dearest, are above reproach. At twenty, you know how to act the proper lady. In you I see the makings of a grand political wife. But your brother is old enough to know better. With his bizarre sense of humor and his venomous tongue...” He shook his head in disgust and resumed eating.

Briana lowered her head and tried to corral tears of frustration. She knew Gideon’s behavior could be deplorable at times. But she also knew the reason behind his behavior. Not everyone witnesses a father being murdered and blames himself for the deed. Not everyone finds his mother dead of heartbreak weeks later and blames himself for that as well. Gideon had lived behind a impenetrable wall of self-loathing and guilt for twelve years. And no amount of patient love or dogged persistence could force a crack in that wall for any length of time. She had tried, and at times succeeded, in reaching the boy he had been before that horrible day—a boy with a loving, tender, and above all, trusting nature. But others had not only failed to break down the wall, they were hurt in their attempt. Yes, unlike the physical wounds Gideon had suffered from that vicious attack, the mental wounds simply refused to heal.

But Briana had never surrendered in her attempts to help him. She had suffered his mood swings of deep, inconsolable depression; she had closed her ears when he spoke out of turn; she had turned a blind eye to his nights of drunken revelry; she had ignored his sudden fits of rage and tolerated his overprotective manner because she tried to understand his plight and sympathized. Simply put, she loved him. The boy who was once her hero remained so. That’s why she begged her husband to allow Gideon to move here. She wanted him close to her, and knew his one true friend, Seth, had also made progress on helping him chip away at that wall. That blasted wall.

And even though Hyatt knew the circumstances behind Gideon’s suffering, he could never fully understand. Indeed, she could never fully understand herself. She just prayed she could keep peace between the two men she loved most in this world.

“Ah, finally,” Hyatt said, looking toward the doorway, “now we’ll receive some answers.”

Briana looked up to see Gideon enter the room. Anxiety tightened her stomach when she realized Hyatt would certainly have something to say regarding her brother’s appearance. Gideon’s long ebony hair and mustache were uncombed. His dark skin appeared pale, while crimson stained the whites of his eyes. The trousers he had worn yesterday were now wrinkled from sleep, his shirt unbuttoned to the waist. Barefoot, he wobbled into the room and plopped down at the table. The aroma of stale whiskey pierced the air. He stretched his long legs, yawned, and muttered a word of greeting.

Stressful over the pinched expression on her husband’s face, Briana rose from her seat and poured Gideon a cup of coffee from the sideboard. Patting his shoulder, she placed it before him. He looked up at her and forced a smile. She retook her seat, reexamined Hyatt’s face, and as she twisted a napkin in sweat-dampened hands, realized the dreaded confrontation was about to commence.

“Well, Gideon,” Hyatt blurted, “it appears you had quite a night.”

Gideon scratched his furry chest with one hand, and scooped up the coffee cup with the other. “Yep,” he said, then sipped the steaming liquid.

Hyatt pursed his lips. “And just where were you so late?”

“Out.” Another yawn. Another sip.

Rage darkened Hyatt’s face. “Out? Out where?”

Gideon smirked. “Outside.”

Silverware banged against French china. Briana flinched; Gideon looked amused.

Hyatt snatched the lace napkin from his lap and hurled it down beside his plate. His index finger stabbed the tabletop. “Listen to me, Gideon Storm. I am in no mood this morning for a sassy tongue. The least you can do is answer a civil question with the amount of respect I am due.”

Gideon arched an eyebrow. His expression hardened. “I thought I just did.”

Hyatt’s face turned apoplectic. In a fit of panic, Briana seized her brother’s wrist, praying she could alter the course of the conversation. “Gideon, I’m on pins and needles. What happened yesterday at Brady’s Gallery? Will they take you on?”

Gideon pried his attention from Hyatt and turned to face her. A toothy grin softened his expression. “I start Monday.”

Silently thanking the heavens, Briana leapt from her chair and gave Gideon a hug. “I’m so proud of you. Then Seth put in a good word with Mr. Brady like he promised?”

“More than that.” Gideon told her about his meeting with Alexander Gardner, along with the man’s kind words regarding his portrait shots. “I could hardly believe it. So I hunted down Seth and dragged him to Willard’s Hotel to celebrate.”

“Through the night,” Hyatt muttered.

Briana gave her husband an imploring glance. Hyatt gestured her silent. Gideon, rubbing at his temples, missed the exchange. “Gideon,” Briana began, heaping food on a plate and hoping to provide time for Hyatt to simmer down, “tell us all about the gallery.” She placed the food before her brother, retook her seat, and again used her eyes to plead with her husband to let things settle.

“Yes, Gideon,” Hyatt interjected, “do tell.”

All but snubbing his brother-in-law’s presence, Gideon recounted the sights he had witnessed. “I must say, it was more impressive than Jericho’s Gallery. And Gardner is willing to give me a go at camera operation. We got along famously.”

“I should hope so,” Hyatt said. “And what is Mr. Gardner willing to pay for this splendid talent of yours?”

Gideon turned his head toward Hyatt. “Enough.”

Eyes flaring, Hyatt pushed back his chair. The legs squealed on the marble floor. He planted both hands on the table and leaned forward. “I have just about had it with your curt remarks!”

“I don’t see why you’re in such a fine pucker, Hyatt. I answered your question.”

“That’s debatable. Now, Gideon, you listen up. If you are to remain under my roof, you will obey some simple rules.”

“Hyatt,” Briana said, “maybe you should wait until—”

“No, my dear. No time like the present.”

With an amused expression, Gideon sank into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “This should be enjoyable.”

“Firstly,” Hyatt said, slamming his palm on the table, “you will keep decent hours. No more of this coming home whenever you damn well please.”

“Cussing doesn’t become you, Hyatt,” Gideon said with a cluck of his tongue. “Especially now that you’re seeking to work for the government. A dandy gent should never cuss in polite company—”

“Secondly,” Hyatt continued, teeth clenched, “this house is run under my stern directives. Meals are at eight, one, and seven—sharp! From now on, if you are tardy, you will either have to starve or take meals elsewhere. And thirdly, if you do decide to show yourself in this dining room, I demand you dress accordingly.” Hyatt bent his frame and glanced under the table at Gideon’s feet. “And that includes shoes!”

“Are boots considered proper attire?” Gideon asked with feigned concern. “I am quite partial to boots, you know.”

Hyatt’s color deepened. “Next, I must insist you refrain from indulging in spirits and—and other such ungentlemanly debauchery!”

Gideon snickered. “Really, like what? Give some examples.”

Hyatt’s fist pounded the tabletop. Silverware and china rattled. Hyatt’s cup teetered on its saucer, then spilled, sending brown liquid over the table’s edge like a muddy waterfall. He ignored it and pierced Gideon with his stare. “The presence of your sister’s delicate ears force me to abstain from mentioning such opprobrious deeds.”

“Why, Hyatt, I do believe you have a filthy mind.”

“And last, and most importantly, this attitude of yours must cease!”

“What attitude?” Gideon frowned, his eyes suddenly burning with ferocious intensity. “Lord Almighty, do you make this crap up as you go along or what? I suppose men swimming in opulent wealth have nothing better to do with their time.”

Briana, her napkin now twisted into a knot, gulped when she saw Hyatt’s body tremble. She rocketed out of her chair and dashed across the room, placing herself between the two men. “Please, Hyatt, calm yourself.” She patted his shoulder with one hand, rubbed his chin with the other. “Please, darling. Let me talk to him.”

He looked at her for a long moment, then stood erect and pivoted away. He looked down at the puddle of coffee on the marble floor, then shouted for the maid, Nadine, before stomping to the sideboard and pouring himself another cup.

A wave of relief washed over Briana. One volcano momentarily stilled. She drew a deep breath and knelt beside her brother. “And Gideon,” she said gently, “I’m begging you to listen to Hyatt—”

“But why should I listen to such—”

She clasped his hand. “Please. Hyatt has graciously allowed you to reside here for the time being. Try to cooperate. For me, Gideon. I’m begging you. Please.”

The fire in his eyes flickered out, replaced by a look that reminded Briana of the old Gideon—the happy Gideon of youth. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. His chest rose and fell in long breaths. Finally, he squeezed her hand. “For you? All right.”

She affectionately kissed his stubbled cheek, then released his hand.

Just then, Nadine rushed into the room from the kitchen. The petite girl, no older than nineteen, looked at her employer, her blue eyes questioning. Hyatt pointed to the brown puddle. Nadine yanked a rag from her apron pocket, then knelt and mopped up the coffee.

For the first time, Briana noticed how the pretty redhead gazed at Gideon, blushed, and smiled. A sinking feeling filled Briana’s stomach when she also noted her brother smiling back. Sensing another disaster waiting to occur, she rushed across the room and stood before Nadine, thus blocking the maid’s view of Gideon. Briana was just thankful her husband hadn’t noticed, giving her time to think of how to keep Nadine occupied while her brother resided with them. Hyatt, ever worried about appearances and propriety, would not stand for that.

Once through with her chore, Nadine stood. “Anything else, sir?” she asked Hyatt, then darted another gaze over Briana’s shoulder toward Gideon.

“No, thank you, Nadine,” Hyatt replied, still facing the far wall.

After another brazen glance at Gideon, Nadine left the room. Briana’s mind raced. This was not good. She would have to talk to Gideon in private once Hyatt left for his business offices. In the meantime, she would ignore what happened, and pray she wasn’t already too late.

When Hyatt turned to address Gideon, his face had resumed its normal color. “So? Do we have a deal? Will you adhere to my rules in exchange for a roof over your head?”

Anger twisted Gideon’s handsome face. He opened his mouth to speak, then paused and eyed Briana. He huffed. “Yes, Hyatt. We have a deal.”

“Capital,” Hyatt said. His manner one of triumph, he gulped a mouthful of coffee, then gave Briana a peck on the cheek. “I shan’t be late this evening, my dear.” With that, he left the room.

After waiting for the front door to close, Briana sank into a chair next to her brother. “Thank you, Gideon, for not arguing further.”

The fire in his eyes returned. “It wasn’t an easy thing to do. I wanted to tell him where he could stuff his blasted rules. Who does he think he is anyway?”

“My husband, that’s who. And the owner of this mansion. And the head of Lynchfield Mills.”

“And a pompous and dictatorial son of a—”

“Gideon!” Briana said, her own anger cresting. “Why can’t you get along with Hyatt? He’s been nothing but generous.”

“He thinks he owns me. Acts like my father. And I won’t have it—”

“Now listen here, Gideon Chancellor Storm—” She rose from her chair and postured herself before him, arms akimbo. “Stop acting like a unappreciative baboon this instant. Do you hear me? Hyatt has been generous. Look at where we’re living. In style.”

“Since when did you become so all-fired impressed with riches?”

“I’m not. But after what happened to Mama and Papa, living in Grandmother’s modest home in Baltimore all these years until her death, I feel blessed that Hyatt came into my life. I could’ve done much worse.”

Gideon chuckled sarcastically. “You may be blessed, but I feel cursed. Like I’m living with a man who hates me!”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“Oh, no?”

“You scare him, Gideon. He has grand designs for his future. Our future. And he’s afraid you might do something to hurt his career. And wipe that innocent look off your face, Gideon. You know you have a tendency to open your mouth before you think. To act before you weigh the consequences of your actions.” Briana’s anger cooled. “Please don’t think I’m condemning you, because I’m not. I’m simply stating facts as I see them. Gideon, you know I love you. But you must remember, I love him as well. I’ll do my best to see you’re happy, but I will not have my marriage destroyed simply because you cannot hold your tongue. Admit it, you relish goading him on, don’t you? Just like you relish goading anyone who looks at you cross-eyed.”

He took on the appearance of a lost and hurt little boy. “Maybe I do,” he said softly, “I just don’t like his kind, is all. I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust anyone.”

He shrugged. “I guess not—well—no, that’s a lie. I trust you. And Seth.”

“Perhaps if you give Hyatt a chance, he’ll also earn your trust. He’s a good man, whether you want to admit it or not. You just have to give him an opportunity to prove it. Can you promise me you’ll give it time?”

Tears filled Gideon’s dark eyes, squelching any hint of their former blaze. His shoulders slumped. “I don’t know if I can do that, Briana. As much as it kills me to cause you pain, I just don’t know.” With that, he struggled to his feet and limped out of the room.

Exasperated, feeling the onset of a headache, Briana walked to the window. She peered out at her gardens of gardenias and roses and sucked in a long breath. Though her victory of this morning’s battle was marginal at best, she knew she had a long and possible bloody war ahead of her. Unless her brother changed his ways, Hyatt would kick him out. She would do her best to see that did not happen, but she could make no guarantees. Hyatt could be just as bullheaded and hidebound as Gideon.

Just then, Nadine stepped into the room. “Will there be anything else, ma’am?”

Briana spun to face her, noticing how Nadine looked toward the hallway. Searching for Gideon, no doubt. She opened her mouth to confront the girl, then thought better of it. That was a matter she would discuss with her brother. “No, thank you, Nadine. You may clear the table.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the girl said, then proceeded to take up the task, but not before giving the hallway another hopeful scan.