“It was not a twig! It was a…a…” He sent Andrew a pleading look.
“A healthy-sized branch,” the second-youngest Carroway brother supplied, grinning, “with broken bits sticking up into the air.”
“Like a porcupine,” Edward finished, his chest jutting out.
“That’s stupendous, Edward!” Georgiana said, smiling as the boy beamed. “And you know, speaking of porcupines, Tristan had his own adventure with wildlife this afternoon.”
“He did?”
“Do tell,” Bradshaw entreated.
“Georgi—”
“Well, we were strolling along in Hyde Park,” she began, ignoring the black look Dare sent at her, “and I spied a duckling caught in some reeds at the edge of a pond. Your brother rescued the poor thing—”
“—but he fell into the water during the attempt!” Aunt Milly finished.
With the exception of Robert, the entire family burst into laughter.
“You fell in a duck pond?” Edward asked through a fit of giggles.
Lord Dare slid his gaze from Georgiana. “Yes, I did. And you know what else?”
“What?”
“Georgie gets smelly, perfumed love letters from secret admirers.”
Her jaw dropped. “Don’t make it sound so…torrid,” she demanded.
Tristan shoved a forkful of potato into his mouth and chewed. “It is torrid. And very stinky.”
“It is not!”
“Then tell us who they’re from, Georgiana.”
Color and heat suffused her cheeks. All five Carroway brothers were looking at her, four with a mix of humor and curiosity. The expression in the gaze of the fifth one, though, was what kept her attention. Her heart sped.
“Tristan Michael Carroway,” Aunt Edwina said, looking as though she wished he was still small enough for a spanking, “you apologize.”
The viscount’s lips curved upward, his gaze still on Georgiana. “And why should I?”
“Lady Georgiana’s correspondence is none of your affair.”
The few-second delay gave Georgiana enough time to rally her thoughts. “Perhaps we should discuss your correspondence,” she ventured. “Or do you feel left out, perhaps, because you haven’t received any love letters?”
“I feel left out,” Bradshaw commented, reaching for a biscuit.
“Me too,” Edward added, though from his expression he had no idea what everyone was talking about.
“Perhaps it’s that I manage to keep my personal matters private,” Tristan mused, his expression growing harder.
“And yet you feel the need to gossip about mine,” she returned, then blanched.
Dare only lifted an eyebrow. “Tell me a secret worth keeping, and I will do so.” With a glance at their rapt audience, he motioned for Dawkins to refill his glass of claret. “Until then, I will settle for discussing your odorific correspondence.”
Was he again trying to reassure her that he could be trusted, or was he attempting to draw her out? Georgiana didn’t feel ready to press her luck any further. Instead, she turned the conversation to the Devonshire ball at the end of the week, considered to be the event of the Season. “Do you attend?” she asked Milly and Edwina.
“Heavens, no. With the crush the duke’s likely to have, I’ll be flattening everyone’s toes with my wheeled chair.”
