In Quill’s estimation, Gabby was well-aware that his self-control was at the breaking point, given the recent carriage ride. “She’s a romantic,” he repeated.

Peter bit his lip. “I feel like a shabster, passing her off like that.”

“Only because you don’t want her,” Quill pointed out. “I’m perfectly willing to marry Gabby. And clearly marriage between the two of you would be a disaster.”

“What will we tell Father and Mother?”

“We’ll give them the same story I’ll tell Gabby. That I fell hopelessly in love and couldn’t—”

“No one is going to believe that tarradiddle,” Peter broke in. “Gabby might, since she doesn’t know you, but no one else will.”

“I don’t see why not.”

Peter smirked, a little brother’s smile. “Forget it, Quill. No one in his right mind would ever picture you in love. Why, you never even get angry. Men in love are hopelessly irrational, you know. Remember how Patrick Foakes behaved when he fell in love with Lady Sophie York? He was the picture of a lovelorn mooncalf.”

“Patrick seemed perfectly rational to me.”

Peter snorted. “You do remember that Foakes stole his wife from his own best friend, don’t you? The word was that he demanded to have the marriage a mere week after Lady Sophie broke her engagement. Of course her parents scotched that plan. But believe me, in the fortnight before they married, everywhere you turned you were sure to find Foakes stealing kisses from his betrothed. The man acted as if he were deranged. He showed no self-restraint whatsoever. Let alone respect for the rest of us!” Peter looked properly appalled.

Quill quite liked the idea of stealing kisses from Gabby. “I can certainly kiss Gabby in public, if that’s what it takes to prove that I’m in love.”

Peter gave a little shudder of distaste. “I could never do it myself. Why, just this evening she—” He broke off.

“She told me,” Quill drawled. “Gabby wanted to kiss you and you refused.”

“Well, for God’s sake,” Peter snapped. “The door to the balcony was wide open. She simply pitched herself into my arms. Tiddlebend was looking right at us. I was like to die from mortification.”

Quill grinned. “I’ll be sure to inform my intended bride that she is not allowed to kiss other men in public.”

“Thank God for small favors,” Peter muttered. He had gone back to kicking logs. “Are you certain, Quill? Because you’ll have to keep up the farce, you know. You will have to play lovesick for at least three months, since it will destroy Gabby’s reputation if you marry in haste.”

“Absolutely.” Quill turned and walked to the door. “I shall inform Miss Jerningham of my, er, my hopeless adoration for her at breakfast.”