Laughing.
Laughing!
Who knew that he could? Or that it would suit him so much when all she ever saw him do was frown.
At least to her.
“Oh my goodness!” Of all the people to collide with on her day off, it was the one she wished to see the least. Especially since he was the picture of dashing, sartorial elegance in his perfectly tailored forest-green coat whereas the stiff breeze that had whipped across the Serpentine had played havoc with her coiffure. To such an extent that not even the twenty pins she had used to secure it had held it in place properly. Doubtless her head looked as if a bright orange firework had exploded beneath the brim of her bonnet. “We need to go!”
Her first instinct was to run, and she would have if Lottie hadn’t dragged her back by the sleeve.
“Not before I get my violet ice!” Then, noticing Georgie’s panicked expression, Lottie kept hold of it. “Is everything all right? Only you look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”
“He’s not so much a ghost as Captain Kincaid!” Doing her best to hide behind Portia, and with her back turned to the window, she subtly gestured his way. Too subtly, apparently, as both Lottie and Portia were now both craning their necks trying to make him out.
“Is he the one with the crinkly gray hair and the straining coat?” Portia’s curious gaze was too close to the window. “For if he is, I must concur that hedoeslook like an old curmudgeon.”
“Not him. The captain is the dark-haired fellow. Seated beside the potted palm.” She would have added the tall, commanding, outrageously good-looking one with the dazzling smile but kept that description to herself in case her friends decided to tease her about it.
“There are four potted palms and several dark-haired gentlemen.” Lottie’s face was also now so close to the window her breath was misting it. Georgie yanked her back.
“Could you try acting with a bit more discretion!” Despite thewall and several rows of busy tables beyond it, it still felt appropriate to drop her voice to a whispered hiss. “You are a protégé, after all.”
“Could you try to be a bit more specific, then!” Lottie did a very poor job of acting nonchalant as she continued to search for him. “There must be close to a hundred people in there and at least twenty of them are gentlemen with dark hair.”
Realizing that she would not be allowed to escape until her friends had seen the dratted captain for themselves, Georgie did a quick, surreptitious scan behind and blinked in shock when she finally noticed Felix, Marianne, and Grace sat with him. Had they just arrived? Or had she been so overwhelmed by the sight of him they had been rendered invisible? “He is the one directly in front and to the left of the counter. The one sitting alone with the three children.”
There was a long pause until Lottie broke it.
“Thatis Captain Kincaid?”
She nodded.
“Thatis your uptight, pompous, staid fuddy-duddy?”
She nodded again, scrunching her eyelids in mortification. “Oh, this is just too awful! I really cannot go in there. I wouldn’t know the first thing to say to him outside of work.”
“He really doesn’t look like a fuddy-duddy,” said Portia as she eyed him with open curiosity. “Or a stickler or a self-important nitpicker for that matter either.”
“Looks can be deceiving.” Just because he was suddenly smiling at the children did not mean he wasn’t an arrogant, insufferable pedant the rest of the time.
“On the subject of looks,” Lottie said, nudging her. “You failed to mention that Captain Kincaid looked so…splendid. Or that he is a prime physical specimen of manhood or that he is filled with so much obviousvimandvigor. Or that he fills his coats so magnificently.” Shewiggled her brows. “I wish my employer were so easy on the eye. I would forgive all his pomposity if he were as tall, dark, and handsome as yours is. In fact, I’d be happy to swap places with you, Georgie, if you find him too difficult to work for.”
“So would I.” Portia was practically ogling him through the window now. “If one is doomed for the foreseeable to be a minion, it would certainly make the injustice of it easier to bear if I were his.”
“Now there’s an idea… I know it goes against absolutely everything that Miss P taught us, but if I were you…” Lottie sighed dreamily. “I’d forget he was my employer and I’d use my wiles on him. A man like that needs thorough kissing, marrying, and skipping off into the sunset with, as I should imagine it would be heavenly to wake up next to him in the morning.” As a farmer’s daughter, Lottie had always been the earthiest of them when it came to such things and often said things that shocked. But while that outrageous proposition was shocking enough, the next words were worse. “Although I sincerely doubt the night with him would be a chore either.”
While Georgie’s mouth gaped, Portia merely agreed, a wicked glimmer in her eye as she ogled the captain some more. “Oh, that wouldn’t be a chore at all. Especially the kissing part. He has the look of a man who would do it well.” Her friend chewed on her bottom lip as if she could taste his on it.
“Oh, indeed he does,” agreed Lottie with another sigh. “Very well.”
Georgie nudged them both to stop them gawking, oddly jealous that her friends were so tempted by the captain when they knew precisely what they were sighing about. Both had been thoroughly kissed at least thrice apiece by different gentlemen and had both been very candid about the experiences. In fact, after a particularly brief but passionate fusing of lips with one of her old employer’s groomsmenlast autumn, Lottie had declared a tie between the right sort of kiss and galloping across a field as the most invigorating and pleasurable experience a woman could have, and that spoke volumes.
It also threw up a great many questions now that she felt forced to contemplate the captain’s lips herself. Enough that Georgie, who nobody had thus far ever wanted to steal a kiss from, briefly pondered what being kissed by him must be like until she checked herself. “I cannot believe what I am hearing! Nor that apparently you are both prepared to overlook every bad thing I have told you about him based purely on the breadth of his shoulders and the look of his mouth! Some friends you are!”
Portia exhaled in an uncharacteristically wistful fashion. “He does have excellent shoulders and a mouth to die for. I’d let him have me.”
“Me too,” said Lottie with a shameless leer at the captain again. “It’s one thing to have to meet your maker without ever having a ring on your finger, but it would be a travesty to do so in a package markedUNOPENED, too, and he is…”
