“Dawkins,” he called as he started down the stairs, “make that a picnic for four, if you please. Those of us who give a damn will be in Hyde Park this afternoon.”
“Very good, my lord.”
Spending the afternoon with Amelia would have been torture, anyway. A picnic with Georgiana was another kind of torture, but one he at least could look forward to.
They set out in Dare’s coach, the only vehicle he owned that could accommodate the two aunts, Tristan, Georgiana, a picnic lunch, a footman, and the wheeled chair. Georgiana allowed herself a moment of guilt over the fact that poor Amelia would be stuck at home on such a lovely afternoon. On the other hand, she was saving the girl from a lifetime of pain and humiliation at the hands of an unrepentant Viscount Dare. One afternoon of solitude seemed a fair trade.
Not that an unrepentant Tristan was entirely bad. She could stand a kiss or two from him, she supposed, if that was what it would take to ensure that he would fall in love with her.
Georgiana looked across the coach at him, seated with his Aunt Edwina’s knitting basket across his thighs and chatting with his eager aunties about who had been absent from Parliament. She’d never imagined him this way; domesticity and Tristan Carroway had always seemed polar opposites. Something about it was enticing, especially with the memory of his kiss warm on her lips.
“I meant to tell you, my dear,” Edwina said, catching her attention, “I’ve never seen you in that dress before. It’s lovely.”
She glanced down at the silver-and-green muslin. “I saw the material at Willoughby’s at the beginning of the Season, and practically had to wrestle it out of Lady Dunston’s hand. Madame Perisse works wonders, doesn’t she?”
“I don’t know whether it’s the dressmaker or the dress wearer,” Milly said. “Don’t you agree, Tristan?”
He nodded, a slow smile curving his mouth. “It brings out your eyes.”
“I’ve been longing for a dress from Madame Perisse.” Edwina sighed. “Something in blue, I think.”
Georgiana locked gazes with Tristan, who leaned forward. “Blue? Did you say ‘blue,’ Aunt Edwina?”
“Well, dear Tigress has been gone for a year, now. And Georgiana always looks so stunning. I’m inspired.”
“‘Tigress?’” Georgiana mouthed.
“Her cat,” Tristan murmured back at her.
She nodded. “You know, Edwina, Lucinda Barrett’s black cat just had kittens. It’s up to you, of course, but if you’d like, I could inquire if any are available.”
Edwina was silent for a long moment. “I will think about it,” she finally said.
The coach bumped to a stop. “Are you ready, Aunt Milly?” Tristan asked, handing the sewing basket to Georgiana so he could rise.
“Oh, dear. Is it very crowded out there?”
The footman, Niles, opened the door and flipped the step down. Tristan exited, then helped Edwina to the ground. “I told Gimble to pick an isolated spot,” he said, leaning back inside. “Just a few horsemen across the pond and a governess with some infants throwing bread to the ducks.”
“Then I suppose I’m ready.”
With Georgiana steadying her from behind, and Tristan and the footman on either arm, Milly descended to the grass. “Hold there, my butterfly, and I’ll get Georgiana and your cane,” Dare said, giving her hand over to Edwina.
Georgiana handed out the basket and Milly’s cane. As she took Tristan’s hand and stepped down from the coach, he grinned at her. Before she could stop herself, she smiled back at him. “I hope this goes well.” Lud, she wasn’t supposed to be smiling at him accidentally. “I don’t want Milly to be discouraged.”
“She’s difficult to discourage,” he said, keeping his light grip on her fingers.
“And I’m sorry to take you from your engagement today,” she added, slipping her hand free.
“I’m not. Not with such lovely company.”
Heat rose in her cheeks. A week or two ago she would have had a witty, biting response for him. Now she had no idea what to say to him at all.
They’d been at odds for so long that when he said something nice or complimentary, she felt as though he knew what she was thinking and plotting, and that he was only humoring her until the moment he laughed at her and said that he could never fall in love with her, and that she was worse than foolish to think he might do so.
“Georgie?”
She shook herself. “What?”
