If she weren’t herself and he weren’t himself, she could easily fall in love with a man like him. He seemed wonderful. And exactly the wrong person to be exchanging a single word with.
He was not only a charming, attractive man, but also the only person outside of this household to give her the time of day. Once she left London, they were unlikely to see each other again. So why not enjoy the moment?
Captain Pugboat wiggled in her arms.
“Shh,” she hushed him. “Be a good little snuggle pug.”
The puppy ignored her and kept wiggling.
She glanced over at Mr. Grenville in embarrassment. “I fear it is past time for his afternoon walk.”
Mr. Grenville sent a startled glance toward the open parlor door as if he only now realized how long they had been conversing alone. “I did not mean to disturb anyone’s schedule. I shall leave you in peace.”
Nora wished she could tell him to disturb her schedule anytime he wished. Instead, she dipped a curtsey.
Captain Pugboat immediately sprang from her arms and streaked straight to Mr. Grenville.
“Come back,” Nora hissed urgently. “Captain Pugboat! Snuggle pug!”
It was too late.
Captain Pugboat had latched tight onto Mr. Grenville’s leg, and began to pump his little pug hips against the side of Mr. Grenville’s champagne-shined Hessians.
“Snuggle pug?” Mr. Grenville stared down at the wrinkly pug humping his leg. “That’s… not snuggling.”
Nora was unsure whether she was about to die of mortification or laughter.
“Perhaps it’s a type of snuggling,” she offered when Captain Pugboat showed no signs of stopping.
“Odd manner,” Mr. Grenville said, his eyes twinkling. “I thought your snuggle pug was despoiling my ankle.”
Nora tilted her head. “You do have shapely ankles.”
He waved a stern finger at her. “Even shapely ankles should not live in fear of being caught in a pug-of-war.”
“Pug of war!” She clapped her hands approvingly. “Excellent play on words. You, sir, are ready for your very own puglet.”
Mr. Grenville glanced down. “I believe that’s what he’s trying to make right now.”
“No, no. It shan’t do. Not at the first tea.” Nora dashed forward and yanked the flailing puppy from Mr. Grenville’s defiled ankle. “Next time, try to play harder to get. You promised not to steal my beau.”
“Please assure me this wasn’t the trick Lady Roundtree wanted you to show me,” he said drolly.
Nora burst into laughter. “Captain Pugboat has many tricks. His repertoire would amaze and astound you.”
“Then I shall expect to be further amazed at every visit.”
“Do you visit often?” she asked, unsure whether her voice trembled from hope or nervousness.
“I do now.” The expression in Mr. Grenville’s hazel eyes was unfathomable. “Until next time, Miss Winfield.”
Without further explanation, he swept a bow worthy of a royal court and left her standing alone in an empty parlor with a yipping pug in her arms and a thousand questions in her heart.
Chapter 10
“Are you certain my cravat isn’t crooked?” Heath asked his youngest sister.
“Why are you so worried all of a sudden?” Bryony arched an eyebrow. “Will Beau Brummel be in the audience tonight, commissioning caricatures of Society gentlemen with crooked cravats?”
