“Tell him about Captain Pugboat,” the baroness ordered as she was bundled into her chair. “Do forgive me, Mr. Grenville. I’m afraid my broken leg has got the better of me.”
Mr. Grenville bowed to the retreating baroness. “May you recover quickly.”
In the space of a breath, Nora was now alone in an empty salon with Mr. Grenville.
Of course there was no cause for a duenna, Nora realized with a start. As she was essentially a servant, it would never cross Lady Roundtree’s mind to arrange a chaperone for her companion. It would be like hiring a lady’s maid for her lady’s maid.
Mr. Grenville had not retaken his seat, but nor had he fled from the parlor in horror at the sudden downward shift in his conversation partner. Indeed, he was gazing at her and the puppy with what appeared to be genuine interest.
“Do you ever let a face that cute out of your sight?” he inquired.
“Rarely,” Nora admitted. “Although heisLady Roundtree’s pet. I merely care for him whilst she is unable.”
Captain Pugboat wiggled up Nora’s bodice in an attempt to lick her cheek, as if wishing to prove that Nora belonged to him rather than the other way around.
“I love pets,” Mr. Grenville confessed. “I haven’t one at the moment. Perhaps that is an oversight I should rectify. Do you favor any certain breeds?”
Nora shook her head. Captain Pugboat was the closest she’d ever come to having a pet of her own. She wished she had esoteric dog wisdom to impart that would make her seem just as clever as the cultured women who participated in book clubs.
“You look particularly lovely today.” His gaze was intense and warm.
She shook her head. “You said that last time.”
“It’s been true every time,” he said softly.
A flush crept up her cheeks. “I cannot take credit. The talent belongs to Lady Roundtree’s talented lady’s maid.”
“You must take some of the credit.” Mr. Grenville lifted his brows. “My mother has impressed upon me the tragedy that no lady’s maid on earth is capable of curling my youngest sister’s hair.”
The corner of Nora’s mouth twitched. “How many do you have?”
“Three, every one of them mad as a hatter. I love them all dearly.” He grinned. “I’m afraid I am the only male. How about you? Brothers or sisters?”
“One. Carter has been both my brother and my best friend for as long as I can remember.”
“Then you understand.” Mr. Grenville nodded, as if confirming a suspicion. “That’s how I feel about my sisters. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for them. Although they don’t make it easy,” he added with an indulgent shake of his head.
“Siblings never do,” Nora agreed with a tentative smile.
“I imagine you’re quite proud of your brother,” said Mr. Grenville.
She looked at him in surprise. “I am. But why should you think so?”
“Because I’m certain he’s proud of you.” Mr. Grenville’s hazel eyes locked on hers. “Captain Pugboat seems like a marvelous judge of character.”
“He likes belly rubs,” she confessed. “He would leave with you right now if I allowed you to pet him.”
He stepped forward. “May I?”
“Absolutely not.” She pretended to keep Captain Pugboat out of Mr. Grenville’s grasp. “I saw him first.”
He lifted his brows. “Didn’t Lady Roundtree see him first?”
“I saw him fifteenth,” Nora amended. “But it’s too late. He’s ours.”
“It’s never too late,” Mr. Grenville said as he rubbed behind Captain Pugboat’s ears. “And I promise to never steal your beau.”
Nora grinned back at him.
