First Comes Scandal (Rokesbys #4)(28)

Benedict stared up at her with huge, unblinking eyes. “I know.”

“A person isn’t your uncle just because his brother is.”

Benedict considered this for about half a second. “But a person can be your uncle if his brother is.”

“It’s like squares and rectangles,” Anthony interjected, with all the authority of an oldest child. “All squares are rectangles, but not all rectangles are squares.”

Benedict scratched his head. “What about circles?”

“What about circles?” Anthony countered.

Benedict looked up. “Aunt Georgie?”

She shook her head. This, she could not handle right now. No one should have to deal with an unwanted marriage proposal and geometry in the same morning.

“You don’t know anything about circles,” Anthony said.

Benedict crossed his arms. “Yes, I do.”

“If you did, you wouldn’t have asked about them, because they have nothing to do with—”

“Boys, stop,” Georgie ordered. “Now.”

“He does this all the time,” Benedict protested. “He thinks because he’s bigger than me—”

“I am bigger than you.”

“Not forever you’re not.”

“Says who?”

“Says me!”

“Stop!” Georgie yelled.

“I hate you,” Benedict seethed.

Anthony stuck out his tongue. “I hate you more.”

“Boys, stop this at once,” Nicholas said sternly.

God above, if they listened to Nicholas when they wouldn’t listen to her, Georgie was going to scream.

“He started it!” Benedict whined.

“I did not! You asked about circles!”

“Because I wanted to know about them!”

“Enough!” Nicholas put his hand on Benedict’s shoulder, but the little boy yanked himself away.

And Georgie’s faith in the universe was restored. Nicholas wasn’t having any success at managing them, either.

Benedict stamped his foot. “Anthony Bridgerton, I hate you the most.” And then he drew back his fist.

Georgie leapt forward. “Do not hit your brother!”

But Benedict had no intention of hitting his brother. Instead, his little hand swung through the air, releasing a heretofore unnoticed patty of pure lakefront mud.

It would have hit Anthony in the face if Georgie had not tried to intervene.

Anthony gasped with pure schadenfreude as it slopped down on Georgie’s shoulder. “Oh, Benedict,” he breathed. “You are going to be in so much trouble.”

“Benedict!” Nicholas said sternly.

“I didn’t mean to!” Benedict cried. “I was aiming for Anthony.”

Nicholas took him by the upper arm, pulling him a step back for a scolding. “That does not make it any better.”

And then Georgie—honestly, she could not say what came over her. She would never know what mad devil plucked her hand from her side. It was like she’d been attacked by malevolent marionette strings.

She scooped the mud from her shoulder and let fly.

Right into Nicholas’s neck.

“I was aiming for Benedict,” she said sweetly.

Then she made the mistake of looking at the boys. They were staring at her with identical expressions—eyes wide, mouths wider—and then Benedict said in almost reverent tones, “Aunt Georgie, you are going to be in so much trouble.”

Nicholas—damn him—swooped in to save the day. “Boys,” he said with deceptive calm, “I think your aunt isn’t feeling well.”

Georgie would have snapped, “I’m fine,” except that she wasn’t fine, and she wanted this to be over more than she wanted to prove him wrong.

“Run along home,” Nicholas said to the boys. “We will be right behind you.”

“Is Benedict in trouble?” Anthony asked hopefully.

“No one is in trouble.”

“Is Aunt Georgie in trouble?”

“Home,” Nicholas said sharply.

They took one look at his face and started to run.

Georgie grit her teeth. “I’m sorry about the mud.”

“No you’re not.”

“You’re right. I’m not.”

His brows rose. “That was a refreshingly quick capitulation.”

“I’m not a good liar.”

“Neither am I,” he said with a shrug.

“Yes, I know.”

Then his mouth started to twitch, and by God, that was the final straw.

“Don’t laugh,” she practically growled.

“I’m not.”

Her eyes narrowed.

Nicholas looked like he might throw his hands in the air. “I’m not! Believe me, I find no humor here.”

“I think you should—”

“Although I am flattered that Edmund has granted me uncle status.”

He wanted to laugh. She was sure of it.

“Stop looking so self-righteous,” Nicholas said testily. “We’re both covered in mud.”

She gave him one long stare and then marched away.

“Georgie, stop!” He caught up instantly. “We are not finished.”