His grandmother arched a silver eyebrow. “Shesmiledat me.”
“Shocking,” he teased. “She has a nice smile, doesn’t she?”
His grandmotherharrumphed. “She forgot herself and almost hugged me.”
Max laughed in surprise. “She hugged you?”
“Almost. I thought you had brought a mistress into this house, but she certainly does not behave like a mistress.”
“Because she isn’t one. When have you ever known me to be so indiscreet? I would never be so disrespectful as to bring one of my dalliances into our home.”
“Then who is this girl? She welcomed me into her chamber, practically hauled me in and would not stop thanking me for my generosity. Apparently, you have volunteered me to find her some gowns to wear. She offered to sew the alterations herself, assuring me she was excellent with needle and thread.”
“That sounds like Harry,” he muttered.
“Harry?”
Max shrugged into his jacket, then spared a final glance in the mirror to make certain he cut an impeccable figure in his black tie and tails. “Her name is Harriet Comeford. She is George Comeford’s sister. I’ve told you about George.”
She nodded. “He’s one of the few men I’ve ever heard you praise.”
“He passed away recently, Grandmama.”
Her expression immediately softened. “Oh, my dear. I am so terribly sorry.”
“So am I. He was a good friend. There was no one I trusted more when bullets were flying. But come with me,” he said, almost ready to escort her downstairs to the drawing room where they were to join their guests for drinks before dinner. He had one stop for them to make beforehand. “Let me properly introduce you to Harry.”
“Why do you insist on calling her that?”
“I don’t know. George always referred to her in this way. She doesn’t mind at all, and gave me permission to call her that. Of course, I’ll always refer to her as Miss Comeford among company.”
He stopped in front of Harriet’s door and knocked.
Soft footsteps padded across the carpet, and then the door was suddenly thrown open. “Your Graces! Do come in.”
Sparkling green eyes stared back at him.
Her smile was pure sunshine.
She was barefoot, had let down her hair, and had a half-eaten meal on a tray atop a small table beside her window.
Max realized they must have interrupted her while she ate her dinner.
Harry subtly tried to tug her gown down to cover her bare toes peeking out from under the hem. It was such a prim, nothing of a gown. A dark green muslin with not a single adornment, but he could not stop staring at it.
Well, he was really staring at her and the shapely way she filled it out. However, she required a little more meat on her bones.
She was still quite pretty, however. “Miss Comeford…”
He cleared his throat, and was appalled to find his body heating as those big, innocent eyes stared back at him.
And her hair…Lord help him, was there ever a lovelier tumble of cinnamon curls on a girl? Or prettier eyes that shone like emerald starlight?
Once more, she smiled up at him in expectation.
Oh, Lord.
She had the sweetest dimples.
