“Ah, Miss Georgiana.” He doffed his beaver hat. “And pray, who is your lovely friend?”
Georgie inwardly sighed. “Miss Eliza Marriott, allow me introduce Mr. Colin Hutton.”
“Enchanted.” He bowed, and Eliza curtsied.
“I believe I have seen you before,” Eliza said. “At church and such.”
“Quite possibly. My brother, Major Hutton, lives at Westmount, and I often visit him and his wife. And her lovely sisters, of course.” He nodded to Georgiana.
Eliza looked at her. “Ah, so he is your brother-in-law.”
“I ... well. He is Viola’s brother-in-law to be certain but not mine ... exactly.”
Eliza turned back to Colin. “I have met Major Hutton. He served with my uncle, Major Charles Marriott, in India. You appear to be much younger than your brother. Though perhaps it is his scars, if that is not rude to say.”
“Not at all. Yes, I am the youngest. We had another brother between us, but—” Colin abruptly broke off and turned his head, as if his attention was seized by something in the window.
“And what has caught your fancy here, ladies? The seashells?”
“Miss Marriott found those,” Georgie explained. “She is quite the avid collector.”
“Ah!” He looked up, apparently impressed. “A conchologist.”
“That’s right,” Eliza said. “I have many more at home. I’ve invited Georgiana more than once to come to Temple Cottage and see my entire collection, but she has not yet done so. You would be welcome to join her.”
“I should enjoy that.”
For a lingering moment the two smiled at each other.
Georgie interjected, “And you, Colin. What have you been shopping for?” She gestured to the parcel in his hand.
He grinned. “You tell me.”
“How should I know?”
“What do you smell?” He leaned closer.
“I don’t know, but whatever it is, is rather strong.”
“It’s a new cologne—Albany. Named after one of London’s most exclusive addresses for fashionable bachelors. A blend of lavender and citrus.”
Georgie leaned away. “Ah. Thought I smelled a fruit seller.”
“Well, I think it smells quite nice,” Eliza said.
Of course she did.
“Is it a gift for Jack?” Georgiana asked.
“For me. Got Jack one called Spanish Leather. Sounded more his style. And traditional Bay Rum for our father.”
Guilt pinched. Even self-absorbed Colin Hutton had bought presents for his family. What did that say about her?
Colin turned back to Eliza. “And you live here in Sidmouth, Miss Marriott?”
“I do. For many years now, though I lived in India as a child. My father is a lawyer—King’s Counsel—but my uncles are still there.”
“How interesting.”
