And with an impish grin, she tugged her sister out the door. Bark waited a few moments more, his attention focused solely on Greyville. Then he simply stood and turned to follow the girls down the hall.
“You could almost swear he spoke to you,” Georgie marveled.
“The doggie translation of ‘don’t hurt my girls?’” Greyville nodded. “It is the sole reason I let that hairy horse in the house. They need some security.”
She looked after them, thinking of what Greyville faced. “How long have they been here?”
“Ten days. Until I got home, they were with my cousin’s solicitor. He had no idea how to deal with little girls.” Sighing, he scraped his hands through his hair. “No more than do I.”
Again, Georgie was beset by the urge to reach out. To ease the tight set of those shoulders. To comfort a man who resembled stone. “The situation is more complicated than that. Isn’t it?”
He nodded. “You saw their reactions. The defensive postures. I’m very afraid my cousins didn’t know how to raise children either.”
“You really are quite good with them,” she said and smiled. “Take it from someone with experience.”
He rubbed at his temple. “Thank you again for your help.”
Again, Georgie had to dive into deep water. “Does Prissy know you’ve inherited them?”
For the longest moment he just looked out the door, as if seeing the sisters holding onto each other as they retreated to the breakfast room. Then he shook his head.
It was Georgie’s turn to sigh, and it was heartfelt. “You do remember that Prissy is only eighteen.”
“Women have been mothers by that age.”
“You know perfectly well this is not the same. Prissy is a sweet girl. But she isn’t...”
He turned to her. “What? She isn’t what?”
Georgie faced him, even as her knees shook. “Up to this.”
He glared at her again, his hand fisted at his side. “Why are you even getting involved?” he demanded.
Georgie offered a rueful smile. “Because Prissy asked me. She’s too afraid to ask her father and more afraid to ask you. It is pointless to ask her mother. Mrs. Mayhew would marry you herself to connect such a title to their name.”
“But you wouldn’t?”
She shrugged. “I already have an illustrious title attached to my name. It is not quite as delightful as it sounds.”
“So says a woman who has everything.”
She laughed. “Anyone who can say that has never been a woman.”
“A fact patently obvious to all.” He looked down at her. “What, then, do you want that you don’t have?”
But that list was too long, and too much of it unrecognizable to men. So, she settled for, “The freedom to make my own choices.”
It took him a second, but he finally shook his head. “Obviously a subject too complex to be solved over a morning visit.”
She ducked her head, conceding. “And without even the benefit of tea.”
“Or brandy.”
She was tempted to sit back down but realized that would put her in even more danger of attraction. She needed to get out before she began to see his side of the question. And before she actually did touch him. She was very much afraid that would change everything.
“Do me a favor,” she said, then shook her head. “No. Doyourselfa favor. You haven’t met Prissy yet, have you?”
“I have not.”
