The Mistletoe Dare (Daring Daughters Book 8) Page 15

  Evie chewed, studying him curiously. “Enough for what? Not enough for what?”

  His eyelashes lowered, and the colours in the room seemed to dim without that extraordinary blue in sight. “Enough to be dangerous, not enough to entirely lose my mind.”

  “Dangerous to wh—”

  Louis jolted as the door opened, moving to shield her from view.

  Evie gasped, suddenly wide awake and panicked, knowing this would not look good, only to let out a sigh of relief as she saw Louis’ brother in the doorway.

  “What the devil do you want?” Louis demanded irritably.

  Nic’s gaze drifted from Louis to Evie, reclining on the settee with his brother knelt beside her. His expression darkened. “Evie. You’re well?”

  Evie frowned at him. “Of course. Just a bit worn out. I came for some peace and quiet and Louis was keeping me company.”

  Louis stood up, glowering at Nic. “What did you expect her to say, brother?”

  “Just that,” Nic said easily, walking into the room. “But you’re missed, Evie. I was sent to find you. It won’t be for long. Everyone is leaving now.”

  “Oh, very well,” Evie said with a sigh. Wearily, she got to her feet and smoothed out her skirts, pushing her shoes back on with regret. She paused to smile at Louis and give him a peck on the cheek. “Good night, Monsieur,” she said with a grin, and hurried out of the door.

  Chapter 14

  Dearest Viv,

  I was so sorry you missed the Christmas ball. How wretched for you to come down with a cold at such a time. It seemed very strange to see Ash without his twin sister. I hope he has told you all about it at least and look forward to seeing you as soon as you feel better.

  Get well soon.

  ―Excerpt of a letter to Miss Vivien Ashton (daughter of Silas and Aashini Anson, The Viscount and Viscountess Cavendish) from Miss Evie Knight (daughter of Lady Helena and Mr Gabriel Knight).

  15th December 1840, Beverwyck, London.

  Georgie did not come down for breakfast the next morning until gone eleven, though she was not the only one. Everyone appeared to be feeling somewhat left over after the excesses of the night before, and the breakfast table was remarkably quiet.

  Evie gave her a bleary smile and smothered a yawn. “Morning, Georgie. Must you look so bright-eyed and bushy tailed? You put the rest of us to shame.”

  Jules grimaced, glowering over the top of his coffee cup. “Yes, do stop it, Georgie. It’s giving me a headache.”

  Georgie grinned at them and accepted a cup of chocolate from a footman. “I slept like a log and it’s hardly the crack of dawn. I can imagine Jules was up to no good, but what were you doing that has you so pale and lethargic, you naughty creature?” she asked Evie.

  Evie gave a husky laugh. “Nothing at all! Well, I did drink rather more wine than was good for me. I knew I ought not for it always makes me sleepy.”

  “She was flirting with Mr Hadley-Smythe last I saw,” Jules cut in, winking at her.

  Evie blushed. “I was not,” she retorted.

  “If you say so,” he murmured.

  Georgie chuckled, amused. “Well, well. Mr Hadley-Smythe. I think I met him.”

  “You did,” Jules agreed. “Third son of a baron. Good family, dreadful mother. They’re very plump in the pocket, I understand. The father is in politics. He’s a decent sort. So is the son, if a bit brainless. Nice but dim.”

  They both stared at Jules, taken aback by his neat summary. “What? I pay attention to people.”

  “He’s not dim,” Evie countered, looking annoyed.

  “What did you talk about?” Jules asked, waving away a footman offering him a plate of sirloin with a pained expression.

  “Umm, mutual acquaintances, dancing, his dogs….”

  “Yes, that’s about the limit of his repertoire. For heaven’s sake, don’t ask him about art or books. He’ll run a mile. Well, unless you want him to run a mile,” he added judiciously.

  “That’s not very kind, Jules,” Evie said, frowning.

  “Who said I was kind?” Jules countered.

  “Not me,” Georgie added with a smirk.

  Jules smirked right back at her. “Touché.”

  The conversation drew to a halt as Nic and Eliza entered the breakfast parlour, followed closely by the Duke of Rochford. Georgie’s skin seemed to come alive the moment he entered the room, every particle of her attention aware of his proximity. Lord, but he was big. The breakfast parlour was a family room and hardly the grandest room at Beverwyck, but it was by no means a broom cupboard either, yet it seemed so when he entered. Georgie tried to concentrate on sipping her chocolate, but her heart was tripping about making it hard to breathe and she feared she would choke. She set down the cup and told herself not to be such a ninny.

  “Good morning, Lady Georgina.”

  Georgie looked up, a surprised to discover he had seated himself directly beside her.

  “Your grace,” she replied politely, feeling ridiculously shy.

  “I am looking forward to our ride out this afternoon. The weather looks set to hold fine. Cold but sunny.”

  “Yes, umm… yes. It does. Me too,” Georgie managed, cursing herself for sounding like a nitwit. She looked up to see Evie watching them, her expression alight with mischief.

  Georgie widened her eyes at her in a what are you smiling about expression.

  Evie batted her lashes, trying to look innocent and failing. Georgie snorted.

  “Pardon?” said the duke.

  “Oh, nothing, just… nothing,” Georgie said as Evie choked on her chocolate.

  “Evie,” Georgie said, her voice firm. “Would you care to accompany us this afternoon? Rochford has suggested we go for a ride together.

  Evie dimpled, looking smug and pleased and as if butter wouldn’t melt. “Oh, Georgie, how lovely. I would be delighted to.”

  They managed to get through the rest of breakfast without incident, at least, and Georgie watched in astonished awe as Rochford put away a vast plate of food in a remarkably short space of time. She supposed a man that size must need feeding a proportionate amount, but was still a little staggered. Jules just groaned and cursed him, demanding he take his sausages and bacon elsewhere. Rochford ignored him. Once he’d finished his coffee, he turned back to Georgie.

  “I shall be waiting at one thirty. Does that suit you, ladies?” Rochford asked them.

  “Perfect,” Evie said, nodding.

  “Thank you, yes,” Georgie agreed.

  Rochford nodded and got up, promising to see them later, his gaze lingering on Georgie for long enough to make her colour rise.

  “Georgie!” Evie whispered across the table, but Georgie hushed her, aware Nic, Eliza, and Jules were still present.

  “I think I shall have a lie down,” Jules said, massaging his temples. “If you don’t see me at dinner, don’t worry. I’ve probably died.”

  “Right you are,” Eliza said, with all the cheerful unconcern of a sibling.

  “Everybody is so cruel to me,” Jules grumbled and levered himself to his feet.

  “I suppose no one has seen my brother?” Nic asked, grim-faced.

  “Not since I woke, but he was in a worse state than me when I gave up. That was about five o’clock this morning, so he’s probably dead in a ditch. Devil’s got a stronger constitution than I have if he isn’t,” Jules added with a sigh, dragging himself out of the room.

  “Sounds about right,” Nic muttered before kissing Eliza’s cheek. “I’d best go check on him.”

  Evie frowned, her expression concerned as she watched Nic go.

  “He’ll find him, don’t fret,” Eliza said kindly, noting Evie’s anxiety. “He’ll just be nursing a hangover no doubt.”

  Evie nodded with relief and now the men had gone, both women turned their attention to Georgie.

  “Well, then?” Eliza said, picking up her cup and saucer and coming to sit beside Georgie.

  “Yes, spit it out,”
Evie urged her, suddenly looking a lot more animated.

  “What?” Georgie protested, though she knew very well what they were getting at.

  “Oh, come on. Rochford! Is he courting you?” Evie demanded.

  “No! Oh, no, nothing like that. No. Of course not.” Georgie flushed as both their eyebrows went up. “It’s just a drive. It’s not… it isn’t….” She subsided, too flustered to continue.

  “He is!” Eliza squealed, clapping her hands together. “Oh, Georgie. Isn’t he terribly intimidating? He always seems so cross.”

  “Y-Yes,” Georgie stammered. “And no. No, he’s not, but… oh, Lord. I don’t know what I’m doing. I think I ought not to go, only I can’t bear to hurt his feelings, and I do like him. Well, when I don’t hate him.”

  Evie snorted. “You like him and hate him?”

  “Yes,” Georgie wailed, throwing up her hands. “One minute I want to throttle him and the next….”

  “The next?” Evie pressed, looking intrigued.

  Georgie flushed and turned to Eliza in panic. “Oh! What shall I do? Eliza, you’re a married lady. Advise me, for heaven’s sake.”

  “I don’t think I can, dear,” Eliza said. “You must listen to your heart on this one, I think.”

  “Yes but…” Georgie lowered her voice. “How do I tell the difference between my heart and, well, other parts of me?”

  Evie laughed, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Georgie!” she exclaimed, scandalised.

  “I can’t help it!” Georgie blushed. “He’s just so big and strong and—”

  “Big,” Eliza echoed.

  “And strong,” Evie snickered.

  They all burst out laughing.

  “I think there’s a kind man lurking under that growly exterior,” Evie said with a smile, once their laughter had abated.

  “That’s what worries me,” Georgie admitted. “But what if he only ever lurks? What if he never lets that side of him show?”

  “You’ll never know if you don’t give him a chance,” Eliza said. “Nic was horrid to me, you know. Really quite cruel, but I felt certain there was something between us, something special, so I persevered. It turned out he was trying to keep me at a distance because he thought his brother should marry me, that he wasn’t good enough.”

  “He would have let his brother court you when he wanted you himself?” Georgie said, shocked.

  Eliza gave a rueful smile. “No, but for a while he fooled himself into thinking he could let it happen.”

  “Louis helped him see the error of his ways, didn’t he, Eliza?” Evie said.

  “He did.”

  Evie’s expression darkened. “Except now Louis is all by himself. He’s dreadfully lonely.”

  “I know,” Eliza said, concern in her eyes. “We’ve asked and asked him to come and stay with us, but he won’t. I don’t think we’d see him at all if Nic didn’t track him down occasionally.”

  “He’s been avoiding me too until this holiday and now…. Well, he’s acting very strangely. I’m worried about him,” Evie admitted.

  Eliza nodded. “So are we. Christmas is a difficult time for him though, so perhaps it will pass. Nic won’t say much about it, and what I do know I cannot speak of, but… Louis is a very troubled man, I think.”

  “Very smart,” Joe said approvingly. “Those breeches and those muscular thighs… a match made in heaven, it is. She’ll swoon into your arms, providing you don’t open your mouth and ruin things.”

  “How am I supposed to court her if I don’t speak to her?” Rochford retorted irritably.

  “How are you supposed to court her if you do, more like,” Joe said, attacking Rochford’s shoulders with a clothes brush.

  “Very comforting. You’re supposed to be helping.” Rochford glowered at his reflection in the looking glass, but he had to admit, from the neck down, he was quite smart. His mother always remarked that he looked like a barbarian whatever he wore, but he could hardly help his build.

  “I am helping,” Joe said with an indignant sniff. “You look your best, don’t you?”

  Rochford snorted. “I do, but that’s not saying much.”

  “Oh, give over. So what if your face isn’t the prettiest? It’s a damn sight better when you’re not scowling at everyone, and you’re a fine figure of a man, Rochford. Use the assets you’ve got, that’s what I say.”

  “If I do that, I’ll have a horde of angry Scotsmen baying for my blood,” Rochford replied, though he wondered if the idea had merit. If he could seduce her, she’d have to marry him. He pondered this, wondering just how big her male relations were.

  Joe rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mean you had to bed her! Blimey, you’re hard work. I only mean that you’ve a strong pair of arms to hold her with. Lady Georgina is a statuesque young woman and there’s few men who will make her feel delicate and fragile, but you can. Use that to your advantage. Take care of her. You’re good at that despite what people think, and she liked it when you kissed her before, didn’t she?”

  “I think so.”

  Joe made an exasperated sound.

  “Yes!” Rochford said hurriedly. “Yes, she did, until I accused her of scheming to get the title.”

  “Not your finest hour,” Joe said dryly. “Do try not to accuse the poor girl of any other diabolical crimes. Not everyone is as cynical as you are.”

  “I know, I know. I apologised, didn’t I?”

  “Well, she’s a kinder-hearted creature than I am. I’d have made you grovel for days. You need to marry that girl, Rochford, for you’ll not find another like her. For heaven’s sake, don’t cock it up.”

  Rochford’s anxiety level rocketed to a new high, as Joe confirmed what he’d known all along. “I’m trying not to! Why do you think I’m enduring your advice and all this damn primping? For the pleasure of hearing you nag me to death?”

  “You don’t pay me enough,” Joe said, smacking Rochford’s hands away as he tugged at his cravat. He pointed a threatening finger. “Leave it!”

  “It’s choking me,” Rochford protested.

  “Good.”

  “Why do I put up with you?”

  “Because I’m the only daft beggar who’ll put up with you,” Joe shot back. “Now hold out your hands.”

  “What’s that?” Rochford asked, eyeing the small glass bottle suspiciously. “I’m not wearing bloody perfume!”

  Joe took a deep breath. “Give me strength. It isn’t perfume, it’s cologne, which most elegant gentlemen wear, the ones who care a fig for their appearance and style, anyway. For your information, it’s the same cologne the Comte de Villen uses, and I had to leap through a great many hoops to get my hands on it, you ungrateful sod. I need to get it back to his valet quick sharp, though, so stop getting hysterical and put it on.”

  “I’m not hysterical,” Rochford said indignantly. “I only said….”

  “Oh, come here.” Too impatient to wait, Joe poured a small amount onto his fingers and applied it to Rochford’s gloves, cravat, and handkerchief. Rochford gave a sceptical sniff, but his expression eased as the sophisticated scent teased his senses. Something citrusy, lime perhaps, and…. “Tobacco?” Joe sniffed too and gave an appreciative sigh. “Yes, and sandalwood, I think. Very masculine. You smell good enough to eat.”

  With a harrumph, Rochford accepted his hat from Joe and strode to the door.

  “Oh, and your grace?”

  “What?” Rochford demanded, hesitating at the door.

  “Don’t bollocks it up.”

  “Thank you so much for your sage advice, Joe. I don’t know what I would do without you,” the duke grumbled, closing the door on his smug valet.

  “Stop fiddling with your hair. It will all come loose if you keep on,” Evie scolded, her breath clouding on the frosty air. Though the sun attempted to shine down on them, there was little warmth to be had. The ground was still white in places and an occasional snowflake drifted silently to earth.

  Georgie stuffed her hand
s under her armpits, hoping to still them as they walked around to the stables. “I’m trying,” Georgie muttered. “But I always fidget when I’m nervous. Is this a bad idea? It is, isn’t it? It’s a bad idea, Evie. Perhaps I should pretend I’ve hurt my ankle.”

  “Don’t be a dimwit. Then you’ll have to sit about with your foot up for days and miss out on all the fun, and you won’t be able to escape him if you really want to either.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” Georgie admitted. “See, my brain turns to pudding when I’m anxious.”

  Evie shrugged. “My brain is always pudding or thinking about pudding. Especially ones with custard. Mmm. Drat it, now you’ve made me hungry.”

  Georgie stared at her. “How is that my fault?”

  “You were the one that mentioned pudding.”

  They both laughed, and Evie took Georgie’s arm. “Stop fretting. It’s just a ride about the grounds. If you don’t want to be alone with him, you have me to chaperone, and if you do, you need only ride in your usual manner, and you’ll leave me miles behind. I’m not as brave as you, remember, and if you go over any big jumps, you are most certainly on your own.”

  “I do want to be alone with him, Evie. That’s the trouble. I just don’t think I ought to. What if he really does wish to court me?”

  “Would that be so bad?” Evie asked. “If you like him?”

  Georgie chewed at her lip, thoroughly agitated; “But his reputation is so….”

  “Daunting,” Evie agreed. “And there’s no smoke without fire, I know. But what if all the talk is unfair? Remember how our parents told us they disliked Montagu at first. He was vilified by everyone when all along it was his horrid uncle telling everyone lies about him and saying he was wicked.”

  “Yes, of course. The duke is cross and difficult, though, and suspicious and cynical and distrustful. I’ve been on the receiving end often enough to know. It’s only that there’s another side to him, but what if the cross, difficult side, always overpowers it?”

  “You can only get to know him better, Georgie. What’s the rush? If he wishes to court you, let him. You don’t have to marry tomorrow, do you?”