“I should take Miss Georgiana home,” he said, rising. “It’s growing late...”
“Very well. But bring her back to me when she’s civilized. I was always a harum-scarum child myself.”
Belatedly, Georgie rose, managing a clumsy curtsey, and he was about to take her arm and escort her out of the room when the Duchess spoke again. “Come here, child.”
Georgie cast a questioning glance at Rafferty, and he nodded. She approached the Duchess carefully, as if she were a basket of snakes.
“Closer!” the woman demanded. “My eyes are still strong but I want a good look at you. You have a stubborn chin.”
“Yes,” said Georgie meekly.
“But you’re pretty enough, though no great beauty like your sister.”
Georgie swallowed. “Yes, Your Grace.”
“But I think you’ll do,” she pronounced finally. “Though it won’t be easy for you.”
“What won’t?” she asked, but Her Grace had had enough.
“Take her away, Rafferty. It’s time for my nap.” And he ushered her from the room.
There was no question whether they should leave by the main entrance, and he didn’t say a word to her until they were well on their way. He looked down at her, glowering.
“Have you run mad? What in the world made you come after me, and without Martina to keep you company. My...the old lady must have thought you were a perfect hoyden.”
“Not perfect,” she said with a trace of her old impudence. “But I couldn’t leave you there. I know what she wanted.”
“You do?”
“She wants to hire you as her butler!” Georgie said. “And I know why!”
“Why? My charm of manner? My stalwart frame?”
“Your eyes. You both have the same eyes,” she said.
He didn’t show his reaction. “And why should that matter?”
“Because you’re clearly related to her. You must be some bastard offspring of her family, and she wants you there because?—”
“If I were an Ormond bastard, they’d want me a thousand miles away,” he said. “Not living cheek by jowl. You’re wrong, Georgie. You’ve let your imagination run away with you again.”
“Then why did she specifically say you were to bring her Bertha’s receipt? Why were you sitting in her presence?”
“She’s democratic in her principles.”
Georgie’s scoffing laugh was answer enough.
“Let me assure you that she has no interest in me becoming her butler, or any other kind of servant. She’s merely an eccentric old lady who wanted to find out more about the Mannings. The heir Is smitten with your sister, you know.”
“Everyone is,” she said glumly.
“They’ve sent him off on his grand tour to get him away from temptation, but just in case that doesn’t work, they wanted to know more about your family.”
“And you told them? Of course you did—how could one say no to such a formidable woman? That’s what she must have meant when she said I would ‘do.’ That I’d be the proper sister-in-law for a duke.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“Good,” Georgie said. “Because Norah doesn’t deserve everything she wants.”
