“You really don’t strike me as a pining type of gentleman.”
He frowned. “I suppose you’re right, as I’m far too manly to succumb to such a feminine emotion. Perhaps I should have said I’ve been longing for you most fervently over the years.”
Reminding herself that contradicting that bit of ridiculousness would only encourage more preposterous statements from a man she’d once thought hung the moon, Camilla stepped back, taking a moment to consider the man.
It quickly became evident that the years had not treated him kindly.
Unlike the George she’d known seven years ago, the man standing before her had acquired a substantial paunch, as well as lost a great deal of his hair, although he was now combing long strands of what hair he had left over his head, which wasn’t as attractive as he probably assumed it was.
His face was also on the puffy side, which made his eyes looksmaller than she remembered, and he now sported not one but several chins, although . . . She narrowed her eyes on the chins in question, unable to help but wonder if he’d always had a weak chin, and she, being young and apparently incredibly absurd, had simply never noticed.
“May I dare hope you’ve been longing for me just as much as I have you, and that you’re now feeling downright giddy since we’ve been reunited, although under somewhat questionable circumstances?” George asked.
Camilla tore her attention from his chins. “I’m not certaingiddysufficiently describes how I’m feeling at the moment.”
“Ecstatic, perhaps?”
“That doesn’t describe it either.”
George sent her a wink. “You let me know when the appropriate word comes to mind.”
“Oh, I already have a word readily available, and that word would be ...furious.”
“I think I likegiddybetter, although...” George tilted his head. “Could you be furious because your abductors forced you into a dress that I can only describe as an abomination?”
Camilla’s jaw took to clenching. “It’s a housedress, George, hardly something to become infuriated over, but since I don’t care to waste time with you throwing preposterous reasons at me over why I might be beyond infuriated at the moment, allow me to cut to the chase—I’m in this state because, as I mentioned, I’ve been abducted, and I’m now quite certain you’re somehow responsible for my current situation.”
“Perhaps we should sit down.”
Camilla narrowed an eye on him. “Oh my word, youarebehind this, aren’t you?”
“The settee by the fireplace is remarkably comfortable,” George said, completely sidestepping her question. “I’ve spent the past day and a half lounging on it, reading a dreary book penned by some lady—one Jane Austen, I believe.”
Unwilling to argue with that piece of absurdity, Camilla stalked across the room and sat down on a dainty chair upholstered in a paisley-patterned velvet, one that certainly didn’t have room for two.
After releasing a sigh, George ambled over to the settee, settled himself on it, crossed one leg over the other, then focused another smile on her again.
Her temper edged up a notch.
“And?” she finally forced herself to ask.
“I’ve been well of late, thank you for asking. Until, of course, I found myself, ah, well, unexpectedly imprisoned.”
“I wasn’t inquiring over your welfare, George, although from what I’ve heard, you haven’t been doing well at all, considering you apparently divorced your wife.”
“And to that I say, divorce improved my well-being tremendously as Eleanor was mad as a hatter.”
“I beg your pardon?”
George gave a sad shake of his head. “You heard me. Eleanor was quite insane, which is why I had no choice but to seek out a divorce. I couldn’t very well risk having children with her, not after she began showing signs of insanity shortly after we exchanged vows.”
“Eleanor Deerhurst and I attended the same finishing school,” Camilla said. “She never once displayed any symptoms of insanity when I knew her.”
“Nor did she show any signs of madness before I married her, but that certainly changed not long after the wedding as the silly chit decided she found me repulsive a month after our vows were exchanged.” George caught Camilla’s eye. “Can you imagine? Me? Repulsive to any woman?”
“Actually, Icanimagine that.”
George waved that aside. “Don’t be spiteful. It doesn’t become you. However, to return to my story, I can hardly be blamed for being concerned about the downward spiral into insanity Eleanorwas clearly traveling at a rapid clip. I mean, I’m an earl. I have obligations to secure the Shrewsbury line of succession, which was impossible to see through to fruition when my wife locked me out of her bedchamber not long after we married and never unlocked her door for me again. Her reluctance to provide me with my required heir, let alone a spare, was when I came to the realization there was something wrong with her mental state—a state that continued to deteriorate throughout the years until I finally had no choice but to have her committed to an asylum.”
