But first she had to find out what the children were up to.
All through the meal, Julius, Simone, and Hayden kept smiling covertly at one another. Smirking, really. Whatever it was he’d done, it had to be something terrible.
George thought about it as she ate. She’d better send a maid to check Caroline’s room. Especially the bed. Two summers ago, the boys had filled their tutor’s bed with leeches, and had found the enterprise most rewarding, as it had achieved their ultimate goal: the man’s immediate resignation.
When the meal was over, George took a seat by the fire, and carefully made lists of the children’s suggestions for games and prizes.
Lord Glendower arrived not long after they had finished. Several footmen followed him, each carrying a large urn of assorted marbles. The last footman had a bag filled with the small drawstring bags the maids had been sewing all year.
While the children were busy helping Lord Glendower divvy up the marbles, making sure to put a good selection in each bag, the nursery maid crept back into the room and went straight to George’s side. She was laughing silently as she leaned forward and whispered, ‘He gave her an apple-pie bed, made with stable sweepings.’
‘He didn’t?’
‘Oh yes, ma’am, but it’s all been cleared away, and the bed remade clean. Not but that she didn’t deserve something, ma’am, the way she treats the little mites.’
Knowing full well that if the maids were defending something that caused them extra work, the behaviour that had caused it must be extraordinary, George thanked the girl, and eyed the children assessingly. She called Julius over from where he was bagging the marbles Aubrey chose and motioned for him to take a seat.
‘So, do you want to tell me what Hayden’s been up to?’
Julius blinked, then leapt into the breach, ‘She deserves it, Aunt George. Really. You know I don’t usually support Hay’s pranks, but she’s a monster.’
‘Well, the maids have already cleaned the bed, and I think we’ll keep it between us. No need to get you all in trouble, when I’m sure you were provoked. But no more tricks. We’ll find a better way of dealing with Miss Caroline. She’s just feeling left out. Her sister is downstairs, and Simone got to eat with the adults, too. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. And if she doesn’t improve, you’re to tell me before Hay attacks again.’
Julius smiled, looking suddenly like a miniature copy of his father. ‘Thank you, Aunt George.’ Then he slipped away, returning to where Aubrey was still seated, happily playing with the marbles.
Maybe some special job at the fête could be found for Caroline?
George hated to reward the girl for her behaviour, but someone clearly needed to pay some attention to her. Her sister’s first season was the only topic of concern for their aunt at the moment. And Caroline, like everyone else, was excluded from the triumvirate that was Julius, Hayden, and Simone. Taking it out on the smaller ones wasn’t a good way of expressing her frustration, but George could understand it. And if all George’s attempts didn’t work, then Hayden could be loosed again.
Chapter Eighteen
Can it be that the Angelstone Turk has returned to the hunt? The lovely Mrs L— certainly appears to have passed into the keeping of a certain Scottish lord…
Tête-à-Tête, 19 December 1788
George pulled on her gloves, flexing her fingers to work them into the tight confines of the tan leather. She glanced about the hall, counting heads: Hay and Simone were whispering, Julius was riding herd on Aubrey, and Miss Tilehurst had control of her two sisters.
All of the children were accompanying her to Leicester, with the stated purpose of buying gifts for their parents. In reality, George wanted to get them out of the nursery before Caroline drove Hay to further retaliation.
It was a bright, beautiful day. Last night’s snow had coated the roads deeply, so they’d elected to take the large sleigh. George double-checked that the children were all dressed warmly enough, hats and gloves on, coats buttoned up tightly, mufflers tied round their necks, then shooed them all out before her.
The sleigh was waiting out in the drive. Up on the box was Dauntry, reins in hand, the capes of his greatcoat draping his shoulders, making them appear even wider then they normally did.
George blinked, less than pleased. Her stomach gave a now familiar lurch. Her nipples budded, pressing against her stays with rough insistence. Her body’s strong response only set her teeth on edge.
Why this man? England was filled with attractive rogues she could bed, and she wanted none of them.
She glanced around while the children clambered into the sleigh. Bennett was nowhere to be found. Annoyance flashed through her, overriding the bloom of lust.
Dauntry smiled at her, a lazy, self-satisfied smile. An invitation to sin. George kept her face carefully neutral and stepped up into the sleigh.
As she settled the children, tucking them under the blankets, making sure the warm bricks were near their feet, she eyed the earl with repressed hostility.
‘Just where is Bennett?’
She took a seat between Julius and Simone in the forward-facing seat.
‘Still in bed. Got a terrible cough. I’m sure he’ll be better tonight, though.’
‘I’m sure he will,’ George agreed with asperity, glaring at his back. His queue snaked darkly down his back, the end curling as though he’d twisted it.
Simply perfect. A whole day trapped in close quarters with the earl, courtesy of Bennett, and probably Lady Bev as well. She was going to do something vile to Bennett when they got back. Flay him alive and strip the flesh from his bones. Better yet? Write a scathing report to Helen Perripoint, the lady he was currently attempting to bed.
While she fumed, Dauntry
