The imaginings that disgruntled reply engendered had Drew grinning, Boyd chuckling, and Clinton rolling his eyes. They’d all, for the moment, forgotten that Georgina was even in the room. But sitting there listening to this outlandishness, she was no longer cowed, was instead bristling, and was quite ready to throw the precious vase at Warren’s head.
And Drew didn’t exactly redeem himself when he said, “Women in general, aye, but sisters fall into a different category. And what’s got you so hot under the collar, anyway?”
When Warren refused to answer, Boyd did. “He only docked yesterday, but as soon as we told him what she’d done, he had his ship refitted, and was in fact leaving this afternoon—for England.”
Georgina started, thoroughly bemused. “Were you actually coming after me, Warren?”
The small scar on his left cheek ticked. Obviously, he didn’t like it known that he’d worried about her as much as, if not more than, the rest of them. And he wasn’t going to answer her anymore than he had Drew.
But she didn’t need an answer. “Why, Warren Anderson, that has to be the nicest thing you’ve ever considered doing for me.”
“Oh, hell,” he groaned.
“Now don’t be embarrassed.” She grinned. “No one is here except family to witness that you’re not as cold and callous as you like people to think.”
“Black and blue, Georgie, I promise you.”
She didn’t take his warning to heart, maybe because there was no longer any heat behind it. She just gave him a tender smile that said she loved him, too.
But into the silence, Boyd demanded of Drew, albeit belatedly, “What the devil did you mean, she’s suffered enough?”
“She found her Malcolm, more’s the pity.”
“And?”
“And you don’t see him here, do you?”
“You mean he wouldn’t have her?” Boyd asked incredulously.
“Worse than that.” Drew snorted. “He married someone else, about five years ago.”
“Why that—”
“—good for nothing—”
“—son of a bitch!”
Georgina blinked at their renewed anger, this time on her behalf. She hadn’t expected that, but she should have, knowing how protective they were of her. She could just imagine what they’d say about James when it came time for the big confession. She couldn’t bear to think of it.
They were still commiserating in their own way, with colorful invectives, when the middle brother walked into the room. “I still don’t believe it,” he said, drawing everyone’s startled attention. “All five of us home at the same time. Hell, it must be ten years at least since we’ve managed that.”
“Thomas!” Clinton exclaimed.
“Well, hell, Tom, you must have come in on my waves,” Drew said.
“Just about.” He chuckled. “I spotted you off the Virginia coast, but then lost you again.” And then he gave his attention to Georgina, only because he was surprised to see her sitting behind Clinton’s desk. “No greeting, sweetheart? You aren’t still angry with me, are you, for delaying your trip to England?”
Angry? She was suddenly furious. It was just like Thomas to put little stock in her feelings, to assume that everything would be swell-dandy-fine now that he was home.
“Mytrip?” She came around the desk, toting the vase under her arm, so angry she forgot she was even holding it. “I didn’t want to go to England, Thomas. I asked you to go for me. I begged you to go for me. But you wouldn’t, would you? My little concerns weren’t important enough to interfere with your blasted schedule.”
“Now, Georgie,” he said in his calm way. “I’m willing to go now, and you’re welcome to come along or not.”
“She’s already been,” Drew informed him dryly.
“Been what?”
“Been to England and back.”
