Now Drake was smiling, that infuriating smug quirk to his mouth that made Grey want to punch him. “I thought it might be a bit more appropriate—and judicious—foryouto.”
After a moment’s consideration, Grey started walking again. “You’re an ass.”
Drake nodded pleasantly. “I know. But I am the King’s ass.”
“Don’t be a ninny.”
There was something about that strident voice that made Georgie want to rip the feathers out of her aunt’s headdress and stomp on them, just so they would stop bobbing in her face every time Aunt Berenice made some ludicrous declaration, like, “You could do worse.”
For the sake of household peace, Georgie chose to pace instead. She certainly couldn’t admit that her aunt had a point.Shecoulddo worse than the Marquess of Coleford. Much worse. But for once, just this once, she had hoped they would listen to her and understand. That maybe they would admit that she could do better. That sheshoulddo better.
She was so frightened.
“For once,” he aunt snapped, “Think of this family.”
And there it went. The very last shred of her patience with her frustratingly righteous, autocratic aunt. Georgie even heard a hiss of breath from one of her cousins.
It did not deter her. She suspected her face was bright red as she pulled herself to her not-inconsiderable height to face down her godmother for possibly the first time in her life. But correcting her aunt had never mattered so much before.
“Think of this family?” she echoed in the kind of hushed tones one hears a fuse make before the explosion. “Think of thisfamily?”
Her hands were clenched, her heart thundered. She swore she saw a red haze before her eyes even as she struggled to control the temper that was astonishing her even more than it was her cousins, if their wide eyes were any indication. She never lost her temper. She prided herself on it, the ability to remain calm in the face of the chaos that seemed to regularly break out in this house, not to mention society as a whole. She was famous for it. Relied on because of it. But it was disintegrating fast.
Her aunt meant well, she kept thinking. Her every aim was to protect the Packham reputation, the Packham history. The Packham status as one of the premier political families in Britain. And truly? No single person lived up to her expectations.
But being the oldest daughter in the entire family, Georgie had spent her life bearing the brunt of those expectations, demands, and coercions. And she was sotiredof it.
“Tell me, Aunt,” she all but snarled, her fists clenched, “Exactly when have Inotthought of the family? Please. Anyincident will do. Was it when I was teaching my young cousins, or doing menus with Cook, or helping my cousins shop and decide on wardrobes, or maybe when I organized the move to the Castle and back this year? Again?”
Her aunt looked as if Georgie had struck her. Georgie suddenly didn’t care.
“My pardon, ma’am, my lady.”
Georgie almost sobbed with the effort to rein in her frustration. “Yes, Reems,” she said, not even turning to acknowledge their butler who undoubtedly stood in the parlor doorway like a Guardsman on parade.
He cleared his throat. “Lord Coleford has arrived. Shall I tell him….”
“Chinese parlor,” she said. “Maybe he will enjoy communing with a dragon or two for a moment.”
“Tea, my lady?”
“Of course. We are a civilized family, after all.” She was still eyeball-to-eyeball with her aunt. “And Reems, when my parents arrive, please direct them here.”
“Not…?”
She didn’t even bother to shake her head. “Here.”
“Of course, my lady.”
“Oh, and please send for Preston. I will meet her outside the Chinese salon.”
She saw her aunt bristle and couldn’t be sorry, even as she heard Reems quietly close the salon door. But truth to tell, Aunt Berenice would never think to direct the staff. That, she said more and more frequently, was a task Georgie should learn. Georgie was becoming hard pressed to keep from telling her aunt that she had thoroughly learned the task by her twelfth birthday.
“Your parents are due home from the embassy any minute,” Aunt Berenice warned. “You would not add further distress to your father’s burdens.”
Georgie continued to face off with her aunt, which she realized with a surprise, she was actually enjoying a bit. “What happens between my father and me is between us alone.”
Aunt Berenice snorted like an overheated horse. “Not?—”
