They remained silent until they walked outside. Once on the terrace, he felt her relax slightly. “They made you tense,” he observed.

“They are why I wanted to see you tonight.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the doorway. “I was hoping you might ensure they don’t attend the dinner at Threadbury Hall.”

“Won’t your hosts be disappointed?”

“Perhaps. However…” Her mouth tightened in consternation. “I overheard what Lady Witney said the other day on the other side of the hedgerow. I don’t want to subject the Creightons to her.”

Damn. He should have considered that she might have heard Susan’s nonsense. “My apologies for my brother and sister-in-law. They…” What could he say to excuse them? “I would like to offer a reasonable explanation for her behavior, but I fear I cannot. I can ask them not to come, but it may be best if I say nothing.” Susan didn’t even want to go, which he wouldn’t reveal to Mrs. Renshaw. In fact, it might be best if he didn’t go either—perhaps Clifford and Susan would forget all about it. Selfishly, Gregory didn’t want to do that. He wanted to go.

“I see.” She kept her gaze directed to the path in front of them, and he couldn’t tell from her profile what she might be thinking.

Gregory chose his words carefully. “I could try speaking to Clifford, but I’m afraid my brother does what he likes. In some instances, my preferences will only ensure he does the opposite.”

“He’s spiteful, then?”

“On occasion.” When they were children, Clifford had liked to laugh at others’ expense. He still did, but had finally matured enough to realize neither Gregory nor their father appreciated such humor. That didn’t stop him from laughing with his friends or perhaps even his wife, however.

“Then I suppose we must suffer their presence.” Her tone was one of resigned distaste.

“I can promise to intervene if they cause any upset. Would that help?”

“Have you had to do that before?” She arched an elegant brow at him, and the expression stirred him in ways he found almost shocking. They were having a conversation about his irritating brother, and Gregory was moved to passion?

“Not them, no, but they’ve been married less than two months. I’ve sometimes had to usher my brother out of a situation—for his own good, mostly.”

“You sound as if you should be the older brother.”

Her words hit him straight in the heart. His father had said something similar as he lay dying. He’d told Gregory that he wished he’d been the heir. And he’d asked Gregory to look after his brother, to try to ensure the marquessate didn’t suffer under his custody.