Page 31 of Snapdragons
“You haven’t been making sheep eyes at her?” Lucas asked with an amused turn to his lips.
“Quite the opposite, actually.”
Kes’s gaze narrowed on him. “I can’t believe you would glare at her.”
“No, I meanshehas been making sheep eyes atme.”
Any other gentleman would have taken offense at the befuddled doubt that momentarily flitted over their faces. Niles understood it far too well to be even the tiniest bit upset.
“Sheiscourtingyou, then.” Kes gave a single nod.
Courting me.“That might explain the insincere flirting.” He began turning his head to look at Digby.
The King leaned around Niles’s shoulder from behind. “I realize you are up to your damp neck in romantic distress and are, because of your innate intelligence, literally turning to the most experienced person here, but could you attempt to holdyour head still? Wilson is trying to perform a miracle.”
“My deepest apologies,” Niles said, looking forward once more.
“Let this be your first lesson in being a valet, Wilson,” Digby said.
“That I ought to ask the gentleman to hold his head still?” Wilson asked.
“That gentlemen gossip every bit as much as the ladies do.”
From the doorway came an unexpected observation. “If things have already devolved into gossip, then I suspect we have arrived too late.”
Though Niles had been warned not to move his head, he spun on his chair, recognizing the voice of Lord Aldric Benick. Sure enough, the General had arrived. Henri Fortier—Archbishop—was with him. Other than Stanley, all the Gents were together again.
“If you two don’t stop distracting Niles, I’ll toss you out of my house,” Digby warned.
Aldric eyed him as he and Henri stepped inside. “What has the King’s crown crooked this time?”
“He is attempting to impart wisdom to young Wilson here.” Lucas motioned to the young man in question.
“And he has discovered he has no wisdom to offer?” Aldric was in a rare mood; he didn’t always join in their more ridiculous banter.
“Offeryourwisdom to Niles,” Digby said. “He needs it.”
Henri sat on a nearby window seat. “Are we correct, then, in our assumption that your plan to remain here in order to avoid your match in Cornwall did not prove an ingenious scheme?” He spoke in French, likely not even realizing he’d done so. No doubt he and his new bride, Nicolette, exclusively spoke their native tongue at home. And Aldric had spoken French since birth, so their journey to Yorkshire had undoubtedly been conducted entirely in that language. How long had it been since Henri hadeven spoken English?
“The plan was not merelyuningenious”—Lucas spoke in English, which would help Henri make the transition—“it has actually left him more entangled in the matrimonial trap than he was before agreeing to the strategy.”
Aldric, now standing near where Henri sat, studied Niles for the length of a breath. “More entangledhow?”
Someone—either Digby or Wilson—pulled a comb through Niles’s hair, tugging it but not painfully. “Miss Seymour sniffed me out.”
“She’s here?” Aldric didn’t appear to know whether he found that impressive, worrisome, or hilarious.
To Henri’s credit,helooked sympathetic. “Was she furious?”
“No,” Niles said.
“Hurt?” Henri further guessed.
“No.” Niles began to shrug but remembered the instruction to keep still and stopped. “She took it entirely in stride. And she and her brother are still here.”
“Didher brothertake it in stride?” Aldric asked doubtfully.
Lucas answered. “He might have been upset if not for Digby.”
