Lucy nodded. “I think he meant well.”
“How do you mean?”
“I’m not sure he fully understands the order of events as pertains to the giving of gifts to children for Christmas.”
A smile tickled at the corner of Tilly’s mouth.
That heart of Lord Rhys’s… It was a good one, wasn’t it?
“An hour ago, he turned up with the toys and wrapping paper.” Lucy shook her head, thoroughly bemused. “It took at least five trips back and forth from his carriage to unload it all.”
Tilly could see it would, given all the toys and decorations.
“I think he thought the children would help wrap the toys?” Lucy sounded unsure herself if she was asking a question or answering it. “It’s a conundrum,” she continued. “But then, the more I contemplate the man, I think Lord Rhys is a bit of a conundrum. Just look at him.”
He was presently pouring tea for a trio of former doxies who were clearly thrilled at having their own personal lord they could order around.
And not just any lord, but this lord.
Just look at him.
And weren’t they all, just.
Tilly’s giggle that wanted airing would be held back no longer and spilled over. Lucy joined her for a few chuckles, then was off.
Leaving Tilly with her laughter—and this priceless view.
She knew the instant her giggle reached Lord Rhys, for he went still, his head cocked. Then he turned, and Tilly had to suppress a gasp.
Just look at him.
During these four days she hadn’t seen him, she’d almost had herself convinced he wasn’t as handsome or magnetic as she’d left Mivart’s thinking he was.
No man could be.
But Lord Rhys Osborne…was.
All that floppy black hair that curled at his collar. Those silver eyes. Those cheekbones. Those lips that were a little too beautifully formed for a man’s mouth.
My, oh my, the havoc this man must’ve wreaked upon the female sex during his wastrel rake days.
And as his eyes held hers, Tilly experienced a frisson of heat and something else, too. Something that fizzed through her and awakened all her senses. Something that made her feel more alive than usual.
All that from simply meeting his gaze.
A smile curved one side of his mouth, and her breath caught in her lungs.
The effect of a smile from that man was no minor thing.
“Oi!” cried one of the women on the sofa.
Resignation to his fate replaced the humor in his eyes. Clearly, he knew that oi!
“Me teacup won’t be refreshing itself,” said a second woman. “And I have some butter and jam that need spreading, too.”
That got a hearty round of laughter.
Tilly snorted and entered the room, but not to join the women for tea. Rather, she made her way to the dollhouse where several young girls were busy as bees arranging the tiny pieces of furniture inside the little rooms. “What do we have here?”
