Lord Sebastian's Secret (The Duke's Sons #3)(45)

Immediately, Georgina was indignant at her own thought. Sebastian was nothing of the kind. He was perfect and complete in himself.

Sebastian met her eyes, and a bolt of desire rushed through her. Her comparison sizzled into nothing. Sebastian was so alive, so compelling, while Randolph inspired no more emotion than she might have felt looking at an actual painting. Or, no, that wasn’t true. His arrival had roused apprehension and defiance, an uneasy mixture.

Seeming to feel her attention, Randolph strolled over. “Good evening, Lady Georgina, Lady Emma.”

Emma giggled. “No one calls us that here. Mama says titles are a waste of words, except to impress odious, encroaching mushrooms.”

“Emma!”

“Does she indeed?” Randolph gazed at their mother, who was bent over Drustan, explaining to the dog that it was time for him to move off the train of her evening dress. He lay sprawled on the cloth, tongue lolling in what looked very much like a laugh.

“You must call me Emma, and I shall call you Randolph because you are practically my brother already,” added her feckless younger sister. Emma was so relieved at having been released from her bedchamber exile, and thus in her mind forgiven for recent transgressions, that she was chattering like a magpie.

Georgina wondered if Randolph was a high stickler. He rather looked like one, with his conservative attire. She’d had no opportunity to become acquainted with him; he lived on his parish in the far north. Perhaps just knowing he was a clergyman was enough to answer the question.

“How funny to go from just one brother to having seven,” Emma trilled.

Georgina had thought it a blessing that Hilda was still in disgrace, doomed to take meals in her room. But Emma seemed bent on making up for their unpredictable youngest sister’s absence.

“You may find it a few too many,” Randolph replied. “I know we sometimes did. When it was a matter of taking turns, for example.”

“Oh no, why would I?” said Emma. “You will all have to dance with me when I go up to London for the season. I shall have a host of ready-made partners.”

Randolph smiled down at her, and Georgina felt a measure of relief. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “Although I must tell you I am hardly ever in London.”

“Why not?” said Emma. “You’re grown up and can go where you like.”

“I have duties in my parish in Northumberland.”

“Oh. I almost forgot you’re a vicar.” Emma cocked her head at him. “You don’t seem like one. You’re not all frumpy and pious.”

Georgina nearly groaned, but Randolph merely thanked her.

“Can’t you get somebody else to manage all that? A curate or something?”

“I could.”

He looked thoughtful. Georgina was impressed by the attention he gave a young girl’s careless query.

“But I don’t wish to,” Randolph went on. “I get a good deal of satisfaction from my pastoral work. Helping people, you know. I would like a post nearer town. And someday, I shall have one.”

He said it with such conviction that Georgina had no doubt he would. Feeling under observation, she turned her head and found Sebastian staring at her. He raised his brows and mouthed something. She thought it was “All right?” She nodded and smiled. The smile she got in return sent a wave of heat from her toes to her suddenly flushed cheeks.

Movement caught in the corner of her eye. Georgina turned and found that Drustan had left her mother’s skirts. He was trotting toward her group, his bulging brown gaze fixed on Randolph. Her heart sank. It would be just like the wretched dog to apply himself to Randolph’s leg before everyone. She sometimes imagined, in her most fanciful moments, that Drustan viewed his vulgar attentions as a rite of passage for newcomers to the castle. Could she intercept him?

Before Georgina could try to intervene, Sebastian stepped into the pug’s path and touched the pocket of his coat. Georgina glimpsed a bit of cloth peeking out. She couldn’t tell what it was. It looked rather dirty.

To her astonishment, Drustan cringed. He stopped and pressed his plump little belly to the floor, head down. Sebastian was still, staring at him. Drustan edged away, crawling. When he was a few feet off, the dog rose and slunk back to her mother. Georgina watched him go, amazed. He hid behind his mistress.

“Drustan has developed a considerable respect for Sebastian,” said her mother. She smiled as if this development was her doing, or her plan.

Sebastian didn’t acknowledge the dumbfounded looks this triumph earned him, though Georgina could tell he noticed them. Mr. Mitra offered one of his characteristic obeisances, palms pressed together. Randolph looked bewildered.

Fergus came in to announce dinner. Randolph offered Georgina his arm before noticing the household’s lack of ceremony. As they walked into the dining room behind the jostling crowd, she wondered if he would think this unconventional environment made her prone to other lapses, like elopement. “I assume Sebastian told you the story of our…mishap,” she said, keeping her tone light.

“He did.”

“My sister has far too vivid an imagination.”

“Indeed, I look forward to meeting her,” Randolph replied.

Unsure exactly what this meant, Georgina said nothing. Hilda was indefensible anyway.

Randolph saw her to her seat and then went to his own place at her mother’s right. Mama had placed Sebastian on her other side, perhaps to allow the brothers to converse. Reflecting the incident just past, Mama beamed at her betrothed while Drustan placed himself on the opposite side of her chair.