First Comes Scandal (Rokesbys #4)(80)

“You leased a house?” Nicholas asked.

“I haven’t signed anything of course. You need to do that. But I told him that you’d entrusted the search to me and that you would go along with whatever I chose.” Her eyes narrowed a bit, and her lips pressed together before she added, “You’d better like what I picked out, because if you don’t I’m going to look a fool and worse, that awful man will never do business with another woman again.”

“It sounds as if women shouldn’t want to do business with him,” Nicholas said.

“I hadn’t much choice, not if I wanted something right away. Besides”—she flipped her hand in the air in a this-ought-to-be-obvious sort of motion. “I don’t know how to find another land agent.”

They’d likely all be the same way, Nicholas thought. Most men would be willing to do business with a widow, who could sign her own contracts, but not a married lady. Not when her husband could so easily gainsay her.

“How did you get him to show you the properties?” he asked her.

She gave him a cheeky grin. “I told him I’d find another land agent.”

He laughed out loud at that. “Brava,” he told her. “I am impressed.”

“You should be,” she said pertly. She was clearly impressed with herself, and it was stunning how much Nicholas liked seeing that expression on her face.

“Can we go to his office now?” she continued, all brisk determination. “He said you could tour the property this afternoon. I’ve been crossing my fingers that you would be free.”

“I am free, but I don’t need to see it.” Nicholas reached out and hooked her pinkie finger with his. “If you think it’s suitable, I trust you.”

She looked at him as if she could not quite believe his words. “You do?”

“Of course.” He shrugged. “Regardless, it ought to be more your decision than mine. You’ll be there more than I will.”

“Then can we go sign the lease?” she asked, her face lighting with excitement. “He said he’d have it prepared, but I’ll be honest—I’m not sure he meant it. I think he’s half-expecting you to swoop in and give me a tongue-lashing for my impertinence.”

“A tongue-lashing for your impertinence?” Nicholas murmured. “Intriguing.”

“Nicholas!” Georgie exclaimed. Her eyes widened and she motioned with her head toward her maid, who was still seated on a nearby bench.

“She can’t hear us,” he whispered. “And she wouldn’t know what I meant, anyway.”

“That’s almost as bad. I don’t want her thinking you don’t approve of my actions.” She drew back, just a tiny bit. “You do approve, don’t you?”

“Of your taking care of the land agent so I don’t have to? Hell, yes. I wish I’d thought of it.” He touched her chin, tilting her face toward his. “But let me know ahead of time if you’re going to do something like this again. I do like to know what you’re up to.”

“To be completely honest,” she said, “it was a spur of the moment thing. I only decided yesterday.” Her eyes turned shy. And maybe a little embarrassed. “I don’t like to spend all week in the country without you.”

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed her hand. He didn’t like leaving her at Scotsby, but he didn’t see how there had been another option.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she replied. “I knew what I was getting into. I just didn’t know how much I wouldn’t like it.”

He leaned forward. Only about an inch; they were in public, after all. “Does it make me a bad husband that I like hearing that you’re miserable without me?”

“I didn’t say miserable,” she said, with a little coquettish tilt of her head.

“Humor me,” he said. “I’ve been miserable without you.”

It wasn’t entirely the truth. Most of the time he was too busy to be miserable, and when he wasn’t too busy he was too tired.

But he missed her. At night, when he lay in his narrow boardinghouse bed, he longed to reach out for her, pull her close. And then during the day, at the oddest moments, he’d notice something—usually something odd or funny or unusual—and he wished he could point it out to her.

He’d grown accustomed to her presence in a way that ought to have terrified him.

But it didn’t.

It only made him want more. And that started with getting the house in New Town sorted. “Where is Mr. McDiarmid’s office?” he asked Georgie. “We’ll take care of it right now.”

Georgie grinned and pulled a scrap of paper from her reticule. “Here, I have the address written down.”

He gave the words a quick look. “That’s not too far. We can walk there. Give me a moment, and I’ll make arrangements for Jameson and your maid. They’ll need to find a suitable place to wait for you.”

“It shouldn’t take very long.”

“No, but now that you’re here, we should make a day of it. I can show you the city.”

“Really? You don’t have anything else you need to do?”

He had a mountain of things he needed to do. He was still behind on his studies, and he needed to prepare for a meeting later that week with one of his professors, but he could not see beyond Georgie’s smiling face. His wife was here, and he wanted to be with her.