Best to stop her recollections there.
He was inordinately handsome. She swallowed hard. And young.So very young.
Margaret tilted her head. “Perhaps in London, My Lord?” she suggested in a lilting voice, drawing her hand away. His touch only affected her because she was nervous.
Inside, a trembling threatened to take over, almost as though she was cold, or scared, but it was something different.
“How was your journey, My Lord?” Penelope drew his attention.
He rose to his full height and then bowed in Penelope’s direction. “Lady Danbury. It was long. But worth every mile, I’m sure. My abject apologies for my late arrival. ” He turned to Hugh. “Good to see you again, Danbury. White’s isn’t the same without you.”
Hugh nodded.
The younger man then turned to bow in the direction of the others sitting around the table. “Your Grace, Your Grace, Lady Sheffield, Mrs. Drake, Miss Drake.”
“You must join us, my boy.” George indicated the last empty chair at the table.
Utterly at ease, the marquess nodded, and then flipped the chair beside Margaret around and straddled it backward, his forearms resting on the back.
Lady Sheffield’s eyebrows rose but rather than frown, her eyes twinkled indulgently. “Rockingham. You certainly have grown up.”
“Never, My Lady.” His smile showed white teeth, even but for the bottom front two, which angled to the side. Ah, yes. It was him.
“You have been missing out on all of the fun, My Lord.” Miss Drake drew his attention. “But there are many activities yet to enjoy. Tomorrow all of the younger guests intend to climb down the cliffs to the beach.”
The young lady’s lashes fluttered with unmistakable flirtatious intent. She wore her golden hair in delightful ringlets that danced around smooth shoulders. Margaret would put her age around eight and ten. Last spring had been Miss Drake’s coming out. Although her father was a wealthy American, she’d been touted as something of a diamond of the first water, and it was rumored that she’d declined several suitors for lack of lofty titles.
Mrs. Drake, her mother, beamed beside her.
Margaret would guess that the American girl would accept nothing less than an earl. A future duke would be quite the catch, indeed.
Lord Rockingham winked at the young woman. “Only if I can hike down before you. That way if you slip, you’ll have nowhere to land but in my arms.”
Margaret expected Penelope to roll her eyes at such an obnoxiously absurd statement but even her cynical sister-in-law smiled at his charm.
He brushed a wayward lock of hair from his eyes and turned his attention back toward Margaret and his uncle. “You’ll come along, won’t you, Uncle? And bring Lady Asherton as well?”
George laughed and patted Margaret’s hand protectively. “We shall chaperon these young people, what do you say, my dear? And from the tops of the cliffs, I think, where we can keep our eyes on all of them.”
“Danbury and I climb down often. As does Margaret,” Penelope offered.
“Did you forget I grew up here, Mr. Kirkley?” It would be most unsatisfying to hike to the path and then not make the descent. Margaret did not exactly appreciate being lumped in with dowagers and chaperones. Although she supposed she was exactly that.
“Ah, yes. You are such a quiet and dignified lady that I forget your age.”
“Margaret is to have a birthday in three days’ time,” Hugh volunteered obnoxiously. “And then she shall be positively ancient! Thirty, Mags, can you imagine?” His eyes smiled in her direction as he teased her, and normally, it wouldn’t have bothered her at all.
But this morning, she would appreciate him not discussing her age.
Penelope sent a scathing glance in Hugh’s direction. As a woman, Penelope would understand that Margaret’s birthday was not something she wished to commemorate. She wondered if her sister-in-law also realized the other significance of the date. “It is not polite to discuss a lady’s age—as you very well know.”
Which only made Margaret all the more uncomfortable.
“Do you wish to hike down to the beach, dearest?” George smiled at her. He hadn’t meant to make her feel old. He’d done nothing wrong. “But of course, we will, if it’s what you wish.”
“I am more than willing to escort Lady Asherton to the beach if you prefer to remain at the top, Uncle.” Lord Rockingham sent a dazzling grin in Margaret’s direction, causing that cold, shivery feeling to sweep through her again.
Did he realize who she was? Oh, but if he knew George was courting her, how could he not have guessed? No other woman would have reason to climb into his uncle’s bed.
