The Decadent Duke by Virginia Henley Page B

feeling a bit under the weather these days.’’
    "The last time I saw her was at court at one of the queen’s receptions. It seems years ago. Do give her my fondest regards.’’ Charlotte caught sight of Georgina, and her eyes widened. "That was a short ride.’’
    Georgina opened her fan. "I changed my mind.’’
    "John, let me introduce you to my sister.’’
    He turned toward her and his dark, compelling glance swept over her from head to toe. His brows drew together as if he were puzzled. "Have we met before, my lady?’’
    Georgina wafted her fan. "Not formally, my lord.’’
    Charlotte made the introduction. "May I present my sister, Lady Georgina? As you must have guessed, this is John Russell, Lord Tavistock.’’
    "Please forgive me for staring. You look familiar—I’m sure I’ve seen you before,’’ he said.
    "You have a very short memory, Lord Tavistock. It was only a few days ago that you gave me a browbeating.’’
    "Forgive me, my lady, I am at a loss—’’
    "I shall neither forgive nor forget ... old man .’’
    Georgina had the satisfaction of watching his face as incredibly he made the connection between her and the girl he had berated at the stream.
    "I humbly apologize,’’ he said smoothly.
    "Liar! Humble isn’t in your repertoire.’’
    Charlotte felt the hairs rise on the nape of her neck. The undercurrent between Russell and Georgina was palpable.
    Charles ended the awkward moment of silence that descended. "My duties as a host are remiss. Come into the sitting room, John. I have some freshly brewed ale I’d like you to try.’’
    "If you will excuse me,’’ Georgina said coolly, "I prefer to join the children and reacquaint myself with your sons.’’
    John Russell’s jaw clenched, and he gave her a curt nod.
    With satisfaction, she noticed the glint of anger in his eyes. With a shiver, Georgina wondered what it would take to provoke him enough to unleash that controlled fury that lurked beneath his polished surface.
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After Georgina left, Charlotte led the way into the sun-drenched sitting room, and as her husband poured ale, she gave John Russell a quizzical glance.
    He smiled ruefully. "I met your sister the other day. She and my sons were in the middle of the Tybourne stream, fishing.’’
    "Ah, that explains everything! You are the surly sod who called her little girl and told her to go home.’’
    John joined in her laughter. "And she told me, in no uncertain terms, to go to the devil!’’
    "She took high offense at your words. She has been teased all her life for being the runt of the litter, and is rather sensitive about her lack of height. You must forgive her, John. She is very young.’’
    "I’m afraid your sister won’t soon forgive me .’’
    "It’s really not like Georgy to get up on her high horse. She’s ready for mischievous fun and games at the drop of a hat.’’
    When the men had finished their ale, Charles got to his feet. "I’ll show you that horse we spoke of. The young mare would make an excellent mount for Francis if, as you say, he considers himself too old for a pony.’’
    "He’ll be thirteen by the time school term starts again. He is convinced ponies are for children.’’
    "And rightly so,’’ Charles agreed. "At thirteen you likely thought yourself a man. I know I did.’’
    "True. At that age I was convinced I was ready for the army.’’
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Georgina had set up a croquet game on the lawn and had divided the players into three teams. Francis and William Russell were pitted against Johnny Russell and Charlie Lennox, while she partnered young Mary.
    Though Johnny confessed he had never played before, he was delighted that he and Charlie were winning.
    "I think I prefer cricket,’’ William