Page 12 of The Season for Loving
“Why you looked like you wanted to murder us all when you came into the room. I thought Rob Roy might pop up behind you and declare war on the English.”
He looked torn between amusement and dismay. “I’ll be sure to warn you when the clan is on the march. Again, my apologies. I didn’t think I was so obvious.”
She waved a hand. “It’s fine. I wasn’t offended. Much.”
He grinned. “For someone who claims to be socially unskilled, that was nicely done.”
“Thank you. Do you mind if I ask why your uncle insisted you take a holiday?”
“I’m supposed to be recuperating from illness too.” His mouth twisted, as if he’d just bit into a lemon.
“Were you very ill?”
“It was only a bad cold, but my blasted family claimed it was evidence that I was working too hard.”
She eyed him. “To steal your phrase, you look perfectly fit to me, if a tad thin. Then again, I’m thin as well. Too thin, according to everyone in Kent.”
His gaze flickered over her with what certainly seemed like masculine interest. It was so surprising that Georgie forgot to blush.
“You look just as you should, in my opinion,” he said. “But I’ll wager everyone harps on you about eating more.”
“Yes,” she said, drawing out the word on a disgusted note. “Constantly.”
“I understand your dismay. Lady Reese practically chases me about the room with gigantic platters of scones and mounds of clotted cream and jam. It’s like something out of a nightmare.”
“Bertie practically shoves food down my throat too,” Georgie said, “and Mrs. Clotworthy insists on beef broth and pork jelly. Pork. Jelly.”
When he burst into laughter, she couldn’t help but join in. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such an enjoyable conversation. Then Georgie caught sight of her brother, staring at her with an arrested expression on his face. It looked as if something had just surprised him, and not in a good way.
“Well, I suppose our families can’t help it,” Mr. Haddon said when he’d stopped laughing. “They’re blinded by affection.”
“And by guilt. My brother seems to believe that every bad thing that happened to me was somehow his fault. So, if he lets me out of his sight for a moment, something worse is likely to happen.”
He was about to reply when the drawing room door opened to admit Florian. He gave a solemn bow.
“The dinner, it is ready,” he announced.
“Good Lord,” Mr. Haddon said. “Your butler is quite extraordinary. I don’t think I’ve ever heard dinner announced with such…”
“Panache?” Georgie said.
The slow curve of his smile charmed her right down to her toes. She hoped he’d smile more often, because it was one of the nicest she’d ever seen.
“That was exactly the word I was looking for.” He rose and extended a hand to help her up.
As they went to join the rest of the family, Georgie was struck with a thought. “Mr. Haddon, do you like to ride?”
“Of course. I spend hours in the saddle every day.”
It was rather forward of her, but what did she have to lose? All he could do was say no. “And do you like having company when you go out riding?”
He studied her for a moment, and then his mouth curled up again. This smile was positively delicious, as if they were about to share a wonderful secret.
“As a matter of fact, Miss Gage, I do.”
