First Comes Scandal (Rokesbys #4)(57)

Nicholas was skeptical that cats answered to their names at all, but forbore to argue. “I’m sorry?”

“You are?”

“Shouldn’t I be?”

She took a moment to consider this. Or at the very least, give the impression of doing so. “To be fair, I don’t know that it was you as much as Edmund who led the naming brigade.”

“Regardless, how about I stay out of the naming of our children, then?”

He wasn’t sure where the thought had come from, or why on earth he’d said it out loud, but the words our children seemed to shut down the feels-like-old-times familiarity with the swiftness of a guillotine.

He supposed it was a lot to joke about when they had not even shared a wedding night.

Then, a quirk in her cheek, Georgie raised her gaze to his. There was playfulness in her eyes as she said, “You trust me not to name a child Brunhilda then?”

“Brunhilda’s a fine name,” he replied.

“You think so? Then I’ll—”

But whatever she might have said was cut off by the sound of a door slamming open followed by a panicked male voice shouting, “Is there a doctor in the house?”

Without thinking, Nicholas rose to his feet.

“What do you think …” Georgie murmured, and she followed him to the doorway. In the main dining room they both saw a man—a groom by the looks of him—covered in mud and blood.

“We need a doctor in the stables!” he cried.

“Let me assess this situation,” Nicholas said to Georgie. “You should take the rest of your meal in the room.”

“But—”

He looked at her. “You can’t stay here on your own.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I should come with you. I can help.”

And in that moment, he knew deep in his core that she could. And that she wanted to. And she’d be helpful. But— “Georgie, they need me in the stables.”

“Then I’ll go with you to the stables. I can—”

“Georgie, women aren’t allowed in the stables.”

“That’s ridiculous.” She smoothed her skirts, making every indication that she planned to follow him. “I’m in the stables every day.”

“You’re in Aubrey Hall’s stables. These are public stables.”

“But—”

“No,” he said, because he could not imagine trying to keep an eye on her welfare and tend to an injured man at the same time. “I’ll send a footman or groom back to escort you to the room where the maids are.”

“But—”

“You cannot come with me to the stables,” he said firmly.

“But I … I …” For a moment she looked lost, as if she could not decide what to do. But finally she swallowed and said, “Very well. I was almost done eating, anyway.”

“You’ll go straight back to the room?”

She nodded. But she didn’t look happy about it.

“Thank you.” He leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I likely won’t see you until morning. I’m spending the night in the stables, anyway. Once I’m done, I might as well just settle in for the night.”

She let out a tiny sigh. “Good night, then,” she said. “I guess—”

“Straight back to the room,” he said one more time. The last thing he needed was to worry about Georgie’s welfare.

“Yes,” she said impatiently. “I’m going. You can watch me if you want.”

“No, I trust you. I’ve got to go. I think Wheelock’s got my medical bag, and—”

But she wasn’t listening. She couldn’t. He was already out the door, his feet carrying him faster than he could finish his sentence.

He turned around one last time. “Go,” he said. “Back to the room. Please.”

And then he ran off, feeling rather like he was about to save the world.





Chapter 15





Georgie was not in a good mood when she woke up the following morning. She knew she shouldn’t be annoyed with Nicholas for insisting that she go back to the room the night before while he tended to whatever injury awaited him in the stables, but surely the very definition of emotions meant that they were not always rational.

Also, she was tired.

One very small room, one rather lumpy bed, five women (each with a long braid), and three cats—comfortable was not a word anyone had spoken the evening before.

Sam (the groom who hailed from Aubrey Hall) was sweet on Darcy, and he’d brought a hammock from the stables and strung it from the rafters. He’d offered it to Georgie first of course, but he’d brought it for Darcy, and while Georgie did look at it with curious longing, she did not take it.

So Darcy had been in a hammock, and Marcy had—at her mother’s insistence—slept on the floor, but that had still left three women in a bed that had been meant for a cozy two. Georgie had woken up with Marian’s elbow in her armpit and an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

And no abatement of the frustration from the evening before.

Now, as the women made their way through the busy loading and unloading areas in front of the stables, she looked for Nicholas. If she could not help him with his medical work, she could at least force him to tell her all about it.