“But you’re not an ordinary butler and we all know it. She’s at the age when she likes that edge of danger you try to hide.”
“Butlers don’t have an edge of danger, as you so melodramatically put it.”
“You do.”
Rafferty made a face. “She’ll grow out of it.”
“Hmmph,” Bertha said again, and Rafferty glared at her. There was nothing worse than a woman who thought she knew more than he did. Particularly when she did.
“Miss Georgie says she’ll be ready for walk at two,” Martina said slyly.
“What?”
“Lady Manning promised you’d accompany her on a walk this afternoon.”
“Why not you? You’re her maid.”
“Miss Norah and her ladyship have already claimed my time.”
“I thought I told you to favor Georgie?”
“Miss Georgie,” Bertha corrected him with a fierce gleam in her eyes.
“And why exactly was that?” Martina said. “She’s the only one who’s not interested in monopolizing my time.”
“No one pays any attention to her.”
“You do.”
Rafferty ground his teeth. “I have to visit Sir Elston’s tailor. I don’t have time to shepherd a child around London. Her brother can take her.”
“Her brother will be three sheets to the wind by then,” Bertha said. “You wouldn’t want to let the lass down, now, would you?”
“The tailor,” he said firmly, and made his escape.
He was making a royal mess of things, he thought later when he returned to the house on Corinth Place. He’d taken as much time as he possibly could, not returning home until the early autumn dusk was closing around the city. Georgie would have prevailed on someone else to accompany her on a proper, leisurely stroll—it was no job for a butler.
Not that he could envision Georgie with a leisurely stroll. She had a tendency to rush at things pell-mell, just like a schoolgirl.
But she wasn’t a schoolgirl, and he was learning to accept that. Reluctantly.
Dinner was en famille that evening, to be followed by that damned ball at the Duke of Ormond’s house. Rafferty almost dreaded to see what she would wear.
His worst fears were realized when she came downstairs. She was radiant in a pale blue that brought out the color of her usually mischievous eyes. They weren’t mischievous now—she was looking at him with deep reproach.
Neddy had managed to dress himself, with Rafferty’s help, and he was just barely sober enough to make it to the table, giving his mother an affectionate kiss on her proffered cheek before sinking into his chair.
The Beauty was in fine fettle that night, a malicious glint in her eyes as she glanced at her unhappy sister, but she waited until the third remove before she dove in like the harpy she was.
“Georgie is looking rather forlorn, Mama,” she announced.
Lady Manning looked up, blinking. “Oh, dear. Are you feeling quite the thing, Georgie? Should I call the doctor?”
“We can’t afford the doctor,” Sir Elston grumbled.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Liliane said with an airy laugh. “Rafferty can get him for us. Rafferty can get anything for us. I quite don’t know how we got on without him—he’s been an absolute miracle worker.”
“Humph,” said Norah. “Have you ever wondered how he’s managed to perform these miracles? After all, we know absolutely nothing about him. We found him begging in the streets.”
