Lord Sebastian's Secret (The Duke's Sons #3)(7)

Sebastian nodded. That was a clever way of putting it. He’d have to remember the phrase when people asked about Great-Aunt Selina and her button collection.

“Mama has done so with her dogs. My father is very much taken up with local history.”

Her sisters had mentioned history, though not very favorably, Sebastian thought. It was harder to gauge Georgina’s attitude. Did she expect that he would join her father’s studies? He hoped not.

Sebastian was well aware that his education was spotty. Indeed, that was a charitable word for it. He’d spent far more time on the school playing fields than at his books. Sport had been a joy, the classroom a torment. He simply couldn’t master the skills required in those fusty, closed spaces, and he hadn’t been able to make anyone understand why. By the time he was fifteen, he’d fully accepted that he was the stupidest of the Gresham brothers, at the opposite end from Alan, who was some kind of prodigy. And so he’d chosen a profession, and a manner, designed to conceal his flaws.

Brandishing a saber in cavalry training had suited him down to the ground. Riding was second nature. He fell easily into the bluff camaraderie of an elite regiment. But if Georgina expected him to learn a lot of cursed facts, he’d soon disappoint her. How he would hate that! She was so quick and intelligent. Would she change her mind about marrying him when she discovered how thick he really was? “I don’t know much history,” he confessed.

She waved this aside. “There’s no need. Papa will be happy to tell you all about it.”

That was all right then. He could listen and nod. He was quite good at that. Indeed, he learned better that way. As long as there weren’t examinations afterward.

Georgina looked uneasy. “His…approach is a bit…unique.”

Sebastian assumed an encouraging expression.

“He has invited an Indian gentleman to stay with us.” Georgina hadn’t known of Anat Mitra’s existence until she arrived home last month. Nor was she aware of the more eccentric turn her father’s studies had taken. Would she have invited Sebastian to visit if she had? No. Or, she’d so wanted to see him again, to learn more about him. That kiss had been…really splendid.

“Oh yes,” said Sebastian. “He let me in when I arrived.”

“Did he? And did you…talk to him?”

“I didn’t have a chance. The dogs came running in, and Mr.—er, the Indian fellow took to his heels. He seemed quite afraid of them.”

Georgina nodded, feeling reprieved. “Yes. Well, he and Papa are exploring…some…aspects of history.” Georgina looked up at her tall, handsome fiancé. He smiled at her, and she yearned to throw her arms around his neck again and forget the rest. She simply couldn’t go on. She’d said as much as she could manage for now. “So, not quite a usual house party,” she finished lightly.

Sebastian shrugged. “I came for you,” he said. He looked approvingly at the shrubbery. “I was hoping we’d have more chances to be alone. To, er, get better acquainted, I mean.”

The warmth in his blue eyes seemed to suffuse Georgina. “I’m sorry about the dogs.” His wry smile showed he was also remembering their uncouth attentions. Georgina’s flush deepened. “I can’t imagine such a thing happening at your home,” she was compelled to add.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he replied. “My mother had a demented cat when I was small. Ruff would sneak into the room whenever she had guests—even though the servants went to great lengths to keep him out—and slink along until he found someone whose hand was hanging over a chair arm. Then he’d start suckling on one of their fingers.”

Georgina burst out laughing.

Sebastian smiled and nodded, clearly enjoying her reaction, not the least bit embarrassed by this oddity. “We boys soon learned to spot the victims. They’d look surprised first, of course, and then puzzled. They’d bend over to see what the deuce it was, and then, mostly, they’d be horrified. Ruff had a real knack for choosing people who hated cats.”

“What did they do?” Georgina tried to imagine encountering such a situation in the duchess’s parlor.

He grinned. “Well, it depended on the person, didn’t it? A few jumped right out of their seats, yelling and shaking the, er, afflicted hand. Most just jerked their hands away and gave Ruff a scowl. The rest slipped the finger away from him, folded their hands in their laps, and pretended nothing had happened. Mama began to see it as a test of self-possession. Once she conceded that Ruff would find his way in, no matter what anyone did.”

“But she didn’t get rid of him? Have him sent off to a farm or something, I mean.”

Sebastian shook his head. “He was a splendid cat in all other respects. And Mama thought his…quirk came from being taken from his mother too early. So she felt sorry for him, you see.”

“Quirk,” Georgina repeated. The unassuming word, and Sebastian’s story, and the way he was taking his visit so far combined into a wave of relief.

“James tried to train him to single out certain irritating people, but Ruff never paid him any heed,” Sebastian finished with another smile.

Georgina laughed a little more. It seemed that things were going to be all right. She put a hand on Sebastian’s upper arm, feeling the hard muscle under the cloth of his coat. When she gazed up at him, he pulled her close, as she’d hoped he would. His lips captured hers; his arms encircled her. She lost herself in the storm of sensations his touch aroused.