“Ah ha!” he said triumphantly. “I knew it. I’m deuced good at this sort of thing, don’t you know. So where was it? Vauxhall? Drury Lane?”
“A smoky tavern, actually.”
And Anthony’s eyes went from her to James, one brow slanting, an affectation that must run in the family, Georgina decided. “I should have known. After all, you had developed a taste for barmaids.”
But James wasn’t in a mood to be riled just now. Grinning, he said, “You’re thinking with your arse again, dear boy. She didn’t work there. Come to think of it, I never did find out what she was doing there.”
“The same thing you were, James,” Georgina told him. “Looking for someone.”
“And who were you looking for?” Anthony asked his brother.
“Not me, you. This was the day you dragged me over half of London searching for your wife’s cousin.”
A day Anthony wouldneverforget, so he was quick to point out, “But your Margie was a blond.”
“And my George is a brunette, with a fondness for male togs.”
And Anthony’s eyes came back to Georgina with perfect recall. “Good God, the vixen who leaves bruises on shins! I thought you’d had no luck finding her, James.”
“I didn’t. She found me. Dropped right into my arms, so to speak. She signed—”
“James!” Georgina cut in, appalled that he was going to confess all again. “It isn’t necessary to get into particulars, is it?”
“This is family, love,” he told her with unconcern. “Don’t matter if they know.”
“Is that so?” she replied stiffly, her brows snapping together. “And is that the attitude you had when you toldmyfamily all about it?”
James frowned, clearly displeased that she’d brought the subject around to somethinghedidn’t want discussed. And he didn’t bother to answer. He moved to the sideboard where the breakfast fare was laid out, giving the table his back.
Roslynn, aware that the atmosphere had drastically changed, said diplomatically. “May I fix you a plate, Georgie? We serve ourselves in the morning.”
“Thank you—”
But James cut in, his tone clearly grumbling, “I can bloody well do it.”
Georgina’s lips pursed in annoyance. She supposed she shouldn’t have introduced the one topic guaranteed to sour his mood, but devil take it, was she supposed to let him scandalize his own family, and thoroughly embarrass her in the process? He might not care what he told to whom, or what waves it created, but she did.
But her pique didn’t last beyond getting the plate of food from her husband, which he dropped loudly in front of her. It was a small mountain of eggs, kippers, meat pies, and sausage, rounded with biscuits and great scoops of jellies, more food than four people could eat. Georgina stared at it wide-eyed, turned to see that James’s plate was piled even higher. Both were so obviously prepared with a total absence of thought that her humor was pricked.
“Why, thank you, James,” she said, resisting the smile that was tugging at her lips. “Iamfamished, actually, though I can’t image why. It’s not as if I’ve been very…energetic this morning.”
The outright lie was designed to cajole him back to a more agreeable mood, since they had both exhibited an abundance of energy this morning before they even left their bed. But she should have known better than to attempt word games with James Malory.
“You should always be so lazy, George,” he replied with one of his more devilish smiles, and there was absolutely nothing that could have stopped her cheeks from going up in flames.
“I don’t know why she’s blushing,” Anthony said into the ensuing silence. “It’s not as if weshouldunderstand the implications there. Not that we don’t, but we shouldn’t. Had a hard time getting out of bed myself this morn—”
Roslynn’s napkin hitting him in the mouth ended that round of teasing. “Leave the poor girl alone, you rogue. Hell’s teeth, being married to a Malory is—”
“Bliss?” Anthony prompted.
“Who says so?” she snorted.
“You do, sweetheart, most frequently.”
“Moments of madness surely.” She sighed, gaining a chuckle from her husband.
By this time Georgina’s cheeks had cooled down, but she was still grateful to Roslynn, who managed to steer the conversation into subjects nonpersonal after that, or at least nonembarrassing. She learned that a seamstress would be visiting her that very afternoon to provide a complete new wardrobe, that there were several upcoming balls over the winter season that shemustattend—both Malory men groaned at that point—as well as routs and soirees by the dozen, where she could be introduced properly to theton. Taking into account that these things implied she had a future here, which wasn’t an established fact by any means, she’d looked at James with an is-all-this-necessary? look, and had gotten back total inscrutability.
