“One of Fortnum & Mason’s famous hampers,” he said with a sideways smile. “Stilton cheese, quails’ eggs, rose petal jam—”
“Mr. Lightwood,” she said again, interrupting him, to her own amazement. A servant never interrupted a gentleman. “I have been most distressed —most distressed in my own mind, you understand, as to whether I should come here at al . I final y decided that I should, if only to tel you to your own face that I cannot see you. I thought you deserved that much, though I am not sure of it.”
He looked at her, stunned, and in that moment she saw not a Shadowhunter but an ordinary boy, like Thomas or Cyril, clutching a picnic basket and unable to hide the surprise and hurt on his face. “Miss Col ins, if there is something I have done to offend—”
“I cannot see you. That is al ,” Sophie said, and turned away, meaning to hurry back the way she had come. If she was quick, she could catch the next omnibus back to the City— “Miss Col ins. Please.” It was Gideon, at her elbow. He did not touch her, but he was walking alongside her, his expression distraught. “Tel me what I’ve done.”
She shook her head mutely. The look on his face—perhaps it had been a mistake to come. They were passing Hatchards bookshop, and she considered ducking inside; surely he would not fol ow her, not into a place where they’d likely be overheard. But then again, perhaps he would.
“I know what it is,” he said abruptly. “Wil . He told you, didn’t he?”
“The fact that you say that informs me that there was something to tel .”
“Miss Col ins, I can explain. Just come with me—this way.” He turned, and she found herself fol owing him, warily. They were in front of St.
James’s Church; he led her around the side and down a narrow street that bridged the gap between Piccadil y and Jermyn Street. It was quieter here, though not deserted; several passing pedestrians gave them curious looks—the scarred girl and the handsome boy with the pale face, careful y setting his hamper down at his feet.
“This is about last night,” he said. “The bal at my father’s house in Chiswick. I thought I saw Wil . I had wondered if he would tel the rest of you.”
“You confess it, then? That you were there, at that depraved—that unsuitable—”
“Unsuitable? It was a sight more than unsuitable,” said Gideon, with more force than she had ever heard him use. Behind them the bel of the church tol ed the hour; he seemed not to hear it. “Miss Col ins, al I can do is swear to you that until last night I had no idea with what low company, what destructive habits, my father had engaged himself. I have been in Spain this past half-year—”
“And he was not like this before that?” Sophie asked, disbelieving.
“Not quite. It is difficult to explain.” His eyes strayed past her, their gray-green stormier than ever. “My father has always been one to flout convention. To bend the Law, if not to break it. He has always taught us that this is the way that everyone goes along, that al Shadowhunters do it.
And we—Gabriel and I—having lost our mother so young, had no better example to fol ow. It was not until I arrived in Madrid that I began to understand the ful extent of my father’s . . . incorrectness. Everyone does not flout the Law and bend the rules, and I was treated as if I were some monstrous creature for believing it to be so, until I changed my ways. Research and observation led me to believe I had been given poor principles to fol ow, and that it had been done with deliberation. I could think only of Gabriel and how I might save him from the same realization, or at least from having it delivered so shockingly.”
“And your sister—Miss Lightwood?”
Gideon shook his head. “She has been sheltered from it al . My father thinks that women have no business with the darker aspects of Downworld.
No, it is I who he believes must know of his involvements, for I am the heir to the Lightwood estate. It was with an eye to that that my father brought me with him to the event last night, at which, I assume, Wil saw me.”
“You knew he was there?”
“I was so disgusted by what I saw inside that room that I eventual y fought my way free and went out into the gardens for some fresh air. The stench of demons had made me nauseated. Out there, I saw someone familiar chasing a blue demon across the parkland with an air of determination.”
“Mr. Herondale?”
Gideon shrugged. “I had no idea what he was doing there; I knew he could not have been invited, but could not fathom how he had found out about it, or if his pursuit of the demon was unrelated. I wasn’t sure until I saw the look on your face when you beheld me, just now . . .”
Sophie’s voice rose and sharpened. “But did you tel your father, or Gabriel? Do they know? About Master Wil ?”