Engagement of Convenience. Georgie Lee
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the blunt blow of her dark mood. However, something in the troubled frown on her pretty face prompted him to speak.
‘Miss Howard?’
The stomping girl vanished, replaced by an awkward young woman conscious of the world around her. ‘Yes?’
She stood on the bottom stair, one small hand on the oak banister, poised like a doe to flee. He wondered what had happened to make such an exuberant creature so timid. ‘I want to apologise for this morning. You took me quite by surprise.’
‘Yes, I imagine I did.’ She moved to leave, but he wasn’t ready to let her go.
‘I don’t usually meet young ladies in the forest so early in the morning.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me who you were?’ she demanded with startling directness.
‘You didn’t ask,’ he laughed, his mirth evaporating under her stern glare. ‘Allow me to apologise. I should have introduced myself.’ He offered a humble bow, but it did not soften the small crease marring her smooth brow.
‘I wish you had for it might have saved us both a great deal of trouble.’
‘I shall endeavour to be more agreeable to you the next time we meet in a forest.’ The image of them alone among the trees, her hair loose about her naked shoulders, their bodies entwined came to mind. His hand itched to reach up and trace the gentle curve of her cheek, slip his fingers behind her long neck and draw her close.
‘There will be no next time,’ she corrected, ending the pleasant fantasy.
‘I think it quite possible,’ he teased. ‘Judging by this morning, I assume it is your habit to ride out alone in the mornings.’
‘Shh.’ She stepped closer, waving a silencing hand and filling the air between them with the faint scent of rosemary.
‘Your mother doesn’t approve of you riding alone?’ he asked in a low voice.
‘Mother doesn’t care, but Emily does.’ She stepped off the stair and stood in front of him, her face softening. ‘Thank you for not telling her you saw me riding without a groom. You spared me a great deal of trouble.’
‘It was my pleasure, and I’ll gladly do it again if the need arises.’
‘I hope it doesn’t come to that.’ She smiled, her face glowing with amusement.
‘You’re very pretty when you smile,’ he offered without thinking, amazed at how much her pleasure delighted him.
Her smile disappeared and she raised one disbelieving eyebrow. Something of the confident Artemis he’d seen this morning flashed in her hazel eyes, rousing his blood.
‘I know the country is lacking in diversions, but do not think to amuse yourself with me.’
James straightened, forgetting his desire. He should have been insulted, but he could hardly blame her for saying what he’d momentarily imagined. ‘You misunderstood my meaning. I have never, would never behave as you intimate.’
She fixed him with the same scrutinising look he once used on seamen when they told him a tall tale to cover their misdeeds. ‘I am not naïve, Captain. My brother and uncle tell me everything, so I know what Navy men are about.’
‘Do you?’ He struggled to keep the laughter out of his voice, still unable to believe a young woman with her hair pulled back like a dour nun could be so forward. He leaned against the wooden banister, bringing their faces much closer than intended. She did not step back. ‘I may have to change your opinion of Navy men.’
‘I’m afraid you have only worked to confirm it.’
Her saucy eyes teased him. Were this Tortuga, he would have covered her full mouth with his, allowed his fingers to free her hair from the bun as he pulled her close to kiss away the wry smile dancing about her lips. However, his good breeding, not to mention his status as George’s guest, prevented such a blatant breach of etiquette.
* * *
‘Julia!’ Emily appeared at the morning-room door. Julia stepped back, her cheeks burning, awkwardness replacing her courage. Silently, she cursed her impetuous nature, wondering what it was about the captain that kept causing her to forget herself. A few minutes in the gentleman’s presence and she was once again acting like a strumpet instead of a lady. How much had Emily heard? Hopefully nothing or she and Charles would feel vindicated in all their chastising.
Before anyone could say anything, baby Thomas’s wail filled the upstairs hallway and the nurse appeared at the top of the stairs, carrying the infant. He was only two months old, but he’d been born early and Emily fretted over him like no other well-born mother in the county.
‘Mrs Howard, it is time for his feeding,’ the nurse called over the screaming baby.
Emily glanced from the captain to Julia to upstairs, weighing her desire to reprimand with the need to see to her child. Luckily, Thomas’s cries grew louder, making the decision for her.
‘If you’ll excuse me, Captain, I must attend to my son.’ Emily shot Julia a silent warning before hurrying up to escort the nurse to the nursery. For all of Charles’s and Emily’s priggishness, they were firm believers in Rousseau’s ideas of breastfeeding. It was one of the few things Julia admired them for.
‘Despite being born two months early, my nephew has a healthy appetite and powerful lungs,’ Julia observed.
‘His lungs will serve him well if he enters Parliament. Like his father, his opinions will always be heard,’ Captain Covington teased.
Julia laughed, the captain’s joke putting her at ease. She was about to respond when a small cough from the landing interrupted them.
‘Good morning, Captain Covington.’ Annette glided down the stairs, her blue eyes raking over him. Dressed in a fashionable walking dress of expensive yellow silk, she stepped in between Julia and the captain. Her haughty air irked Julia and she clasped her hands together to keep from smacking the chit on the back of her elegantly coiffed blonde head. Though they were the same age, they had nothing in common and had never been more than civil to each other since Annette’s arrival.
‘Miss Taylor, a pleasure to see you again.’ The captain bowed over her extended hand, the relaxed Navy man from a moment before replaced by a proper gentleman.
Julia noted the change and her heart sank. Obviously, he respected the polished manners of a London lady to the questionable conduct of a country girl.
It doesn’t matter, she told herself. Neither of them will be here for ever.
‘How are your dear sister and mother?’ Annette asked, her voice light and charming.
‘My sister Charlotte is in Wiltshire with her husband. My mother is with them at the moment, though she returns to town next week. She prefers London to the country.’
‘Who of us doesn’t?’ Simon yawned from the top of the stairs, his voice heavy with the Devonshire lisp so popular in town. Tall and lean, Simon wore a suit of the finest material cut tight to accentuate his slender body. He possessed the same sharp features as his sister, but the affected boredom of his dandified style softened them considerably.
Annette’s face reddened at Simon’s remark. ‘You remember my brother?’
‘Of course.’ Both men nodded to one another, no affection lost on either side.
‘We are going to the local town. Please join us for I’m eager for some society after such isolation.’
‘Did I hear someone suggest a ride into Daringford?’ Uncle George asked, coming up behind the captain.
‘Yes. Care to join us?’ Captain Covington invited.
While they made their plans, Julia started up the stairs, sure no one would notice her absence. They had each other; they did not need her. She froze when the captain called out