Gilbert was not nervous so much about Hestia. He was nervous more about how to carry a steady conversation with his father without it being utterly apparent that they could not hold a conversation. His father and he had been like a broken and ill matched duplicate in a poem since the day they were left alone. That was nothing to ramble on about now, though.
"A little," he admitted softly. "But not because of you." That much he wanted to make clear. He was not nervous about Hestia. He was not. Once he was dressed suitably, in clothes that were not nearly as formal as they usually were. His father always had something to say about his clothes usually. Oh, Merlin. He wanted this to go well, but mostly so Hestia could see what little family he did have. At least what little family he had that wanted to have him.
Letting out a soft sigh, Gilbert's eyes focused on Hestia and he smiled a little. "Thank you for putting up with me being...silly." He held out his hand for her, pulling her over when she put her hand in his. "Only a moment now," he said before wrapping an arm around her and apparating.