Tristan lifted his eyebrow. “No.”
“Oh, I’d like to be a pirate,” Edwina chimed in. “We could all wear trousers and curse.”
“Yes!” Edward galloped over to his aunt. “And Dragon could be the ship’s mascot!”
“Dragon?” Emma asked, chuckling.
“My kitten,” Edwina explained.
“And I could ride my pony on deck!”
“Good heavens,” Georgiana choked, laughing breathlessly, “we’d be the scourge of the seven seas.”
“We’d be the laughingstock of the seven seas, you mean,” Tristan corrected, his heart beating a fast tattoo at the sight of her smile.
“Well, if word gets out to the Admiralty that my first command would feature kittens and ponies and the aunties in trousers, I might as well become a pirate,” Bradshaw said dryly. “I suppose you’d want to knit our skull and crossbones, Aunt Milly?”
“Oh, heavens no. Not a skull. Perhaps a teacup. That’s much more civilized.”
Even Frederica was chuckling now. “You should suggest that to the East India Company, then.”
“Can’t you hear the screams of terror as we hoist the teacup flag?” Andrew, who’d been sitting beside Aunt Milly, chimed in.
“I’d be screaming, myself.” Tristan pulled out his pocket watch. “Children and pirates, it’s nearly half past midnight. I think we need to take our leave.”
If it had been he alone, he would have stayed all night, or at least as long as Georgiana remained. After the past few weeks, he didn’t even like letting her out of his sight. Too many things could still go wrong.
She and Frederica decided to leave, as well, so at least he was able to escort her down the stairs and out the front door. “Take care,” he said, wishing he could kiss her good night.
“I will. And I’m going to call on Amelia tomorrow.”
“Good luck.” He reluctantly released her hand as she disappeared into her aunt’s coach. “Let me know what happens.”
“Oh, I will. You can wager on that.”
“Not at White’s,” the dowager duchess said as a footman closed and latched the door.
If being banned from White’s were his only problem, he would be a happy man. Sighing, he ushered his family into the pair of coaches they’d commandeered. Edward was so sleepy that he allowed Bradshaw to hoist him over one shoulder. They could all use some sleep. He, of course, had to do his monthly accounts tonight so he could meet with his solicitor in the morning and determine how many days he had remaining before he either had to marry or begin selling off property.
Dire as that was, he was still more concerned about Georgiana’s meeting with Amelia. The chit had surprised him with her venom, and he could only hope that Georgie had more luck than he. With the way things had been going, though, he doubted she would. So he would have to come up with another plan.
Tristan smiled as he settled back in the darkness of the coach. After tonight, he thought he knew just what that plan would entail.
Frederica Wycliffe preceded Georgiana upstairs to the second floor of Hawthorne House. Someone needed to say something, and as her niece’s parent in absentia, the task seemed to have fallen to her.
She stopped in the doorway of her bedchamber. “Georgiana?”
Her niece halted, an absent half smile on her face. “Yes, Aunt?”
“Is he going to ask you to marry him?”
“What?” Georgiana flushed. “Tristan?”
“Westbrook already asked, and you put him off. Yes, Dare. Is he?”
“I don’t know. Heavens, what would make you say such a thing?”
“Goodness knows why, but you’ve had a tendre for that man for years. And I know he broke your heart once. Are you going to allow him the opportunity to do so again?”
