Blasthim.
“Or would you prefer something stronger?” Georgie asked on seeing Coleford’s raised eyebrow. She didn’t even wait for an answer. “Reems?”
The butler silently retreated to the corner where her father kept the room’s supply of spirits and measured out a tot of brandy. Georgie saw Coleford open his mouth to possibly decline and ignored him, focusing instead on the ritual of tea. A plate of little cakes for him, one for her. Her own cup of tea prepared to her exact specifications. At least she could control that, she thought, proud that her hands didn’t shake as she dropped in a lump of sugar and poured in a bit of milk.
She still had no idea what she wanted to say, except that she wanted to tear at his hair and scream epithets for not letting go in time to prevent this. For making that kiss so all-consuming she had found herself in this position at all.
Coleford accepted his snifter from Reems with a nod and waited as the butler ushered the maids out.
Georgie gave her butler a smile. “Thank you, Reems. That was kind of you all.”
Preparing tea at two in the morning. Because they were a civilized family. Reems bowed the maids out, and Georgie took a sip from the cup from the second-best Sevres china.
Coleford took his own sip of brandy, his eyes going wide. “Your parents traveled to France quite a bit as well?” he asked, lifting the glass to peer into the rich golden depths of the liquor. He had taste, did the marquess. That brandy was twenty years old. Georgie wished she had the nerve to pour her own.
“No,” she said. “My second brother is a smuggler and two cousins run guns.”
Well, at least she got his attention. She almost laughed. He actually spent a moment considering her words.
“You can find them plotting their next run up in the nursery,” she finally conceded, taking another sip.
She earned a bark of laughter for it and hated him even more right then for sounding so gleeful and delighted. Because he made her want to smile, too.
“How did you get me alone before your father had his way with me?” he asked.
She took a sip. “I tied my aunt to the servants’ stairs and barred the front door.”
He was still smiling. “Should you be the one I list my assets for then?”
“I know your assets. Two young girls and at least four estates with no money to support any of them. Oh. And ermine robes that are perfectly useless for day-to-day wear.”
“And all my teeth,” he retorted, displaying them for her.
She nodded. “They should come in handy for gnawing on roadside roots and berries when you run out of funds.”
“But….”
He stopped just short of saying what they both knew he was thinking.But he wouldn’t.Not now. Not with her dowry and her portion of Grandmother Breslin’s inheritance. The pressure in her chest swelled.
“Would you like to rail at me now?” he asked, more gently than she could have credited.
Georgie admitted she stared at him. “What?” She even forgot to be polite.
His smile was rueful. It was still breath-taking, damn it. “For what it is worth,” he said, “I’m sorry.” He gave a brief look back at his drink, then faced her again, which impressed her too much. “It is not how I would have had this happen.”
She wished again she could manage to raise a single eyebrow. “This?”
He sighed. “Your aunt neatly removed our options. If we aren’t married, you will be ruined.”
“And how would you have rather it happened?”
He shrugged. “I would have asked you like a gentleman.”
She didn’t even hesitate. “And I would have said no.”
That seemed to surprise him. “Why would you do that?”
For a moment all Georgie could do was stare at him. “Are you truly that arrogant, or simply that oblivious?”
