A Rake's Ruin (Devilish Lords #1)(55)

He watched in fascination as those beautiful glittering eyes widened in surprise. She looked shocked beyond measure.

Hurt even.

His stomach twisted in response, as though her pain had a direct effect on his person.

Then he heard Nicholas’s soft groan behind him as well as a sharp gasp from Claire. A second later he realized what he’d said. Or rather, how it must have sounded.

Hell and damnation.

He looked to his mother but even she looked surprised by his rudeness. Bloody hell, he hadn’t meant it like that.

The now deceased Mr. Cleveland’s philandering ways were one of society’s best known secrets. The nastier members of the ton liked to speculate on the illegitimacy of the Cleveland siblings, particularly the younger ones. He’d heard such rumors about their sister Anne, with her striking red hair, so different from Claire and Georgie’s fair blonde locks. But then, those whispers died off after she married the Earl of Davenport.

He hesitated now, his eyes seeking out Georgie’s once more, as he tried to think of a way to recover from this blunder. It seemed he did not have to. Georgie recovered before he did and the hurt shock was quickly replaced by laughter. More laughter. Was there no end to this woman’s amusement?

Perhaps not when he was around to provide her with such ridiculous scenes.

She gave him a brilliant smile that made it hard to breathe. Those emerald eyes glinted with mischief. “Do you know, you are not the first to notice that anomaly.”

He arched his brows in disbelief. She couldn’t be—surely she wasn’t—

But then he heard a most unladylike snort of laughter from behind him and his shock at Georgie’s lighthearted teasing over her family’s scandal was replaced by sheer astonishment at the sight of Claire clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle another laugh. Claire, a woman well known for her pious decorum.

He swiveled his head back and forth, dimly aware that he must look like a fool glancing between the two ladies with such a look of incredulity.

Nicholas stepped in, wrapping an arm around Claire as he grinned at Rhys. “Well done, big brother. I’d say this visit is off to a wonderful start, wouldn’t you?”

Rhys tugged at his cravat. He was used to being the brunt of Nicholas’s jokes, but rarely did he find himself the source of amusement for two ladies, such as the Cleveland sisters. But Nicholas’s comment gave him a chance to recover. “Of course,” he said, with what he hoped was a natural enough smile. “And what a delight it is to have you all here.”

There. Now that was a charming and welcoming statement befitting a host, was it not?

He turned to face Georgie and saw that her amusement had faded to something rather sweet. He no longer had the feeling he was being laughed at in his own home, thank heavens. If anything she was studying him with a curious look.

Something oddly similar to…tenderness.

But that couldn’t be right. He wasn’t the type to evoke those sort of simpering emotions from women. Even his mother regarded him with loyalty and admiration, rather than warmth or tenderness. He didn’t mind. He’d been raised to be admired and respected, feared even. But not coddled. Never coddled.

The fact that this little chatterbox was giving him such a soft look made him uncomfortable in the extreme.

Luckily Hargrove entered to announce that dinner would soon be served. As the others headed toward the doorway, Georgie paused and placed a hand on his arm. The weight of it held him in place, though her touch was as light as a feather.

“Thank you for letting me stay in your beautiful home, Your Grace,” she said.

He opened his mouth to say something to the effect of, you are quite welcome, but he never had the chance. She continued on before he could speak and her words shocked him into silence. “I think you and I will get on splendidly. Why, I already think of you as another brother, just like I do Nicholas.”

Her smile widened into something that could only be described as luminous before she turned to join his mother and the others by the door.

He watched her delightful form glide toward them with that easy grace he remembered from watching her dance with Nicholas.

A brother? She thought of him as a brother?

Something primal and raw and completely unexpected reared up at that thought. Like hell he was her brother, nor was he her guardian or a father figure.

He was a man, damn it. A highly eligible one, at that.

He was a duke.

“Are you coming, dear?” his mother called over, effectively silencing the unbidden and rather alarming voice that had nothing to do with reason.

The others were watching expectantly, waiting for him to lead the way. Right. Dinner. Of course.

He avoided looking in Georgie’s direction again, lest she say or do something else to throw his world off kilter.

Brother, indeed.

As they made their way to dinner he heard the others talking about the Davies’ ball this coming weekend, which would signal the start of the season.

Bloody hell. The season hadn’t even truly begun and that little twit had already stirred up trouble.

Let that be a reminder, he told himself. She was the lightning and the storm would follow.

He’d do well to prepare himself for trouble.