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Thorne chuckled, and Rourke looked thoughtful as he sipped his tea.

Sophia, however, leaned over and patted Georgia’s hand. “No need to lie for him, my new friend. He’s clearly besotted.”

Besotted?

When Georgia glanced at him, he saw the panic in her eyes and suspected it was mirrored in his.

Suddenly, Bull spoke up from his place near the window. “I hate to rush things along, but the snow is really starting to come down.”

Rourke wasn’t the only one to hurry to the window; the twins followed him. In the way only ten-year-olds can be excited about two feet of wet slush, they began to jump up and down.

“It’ll be up to our knees by tomorrow! Can we play in it?”

Rourke exchanged glances with Bull over their heads. “I dinnae ken,” he hedged, frowning once more out the window. “It…blast. It already looks too nasty to travel in.”

Fook.

Shite.

Fook.

Georgia moved to the window as well. “Oh dear, it would not be safe to take the horses or the carriage out in that. Angus has them well-bedded down, I hope.”

Rourke’s nod was curt. “I’ll no’ risk my family, Lady Georgia.”

“If I am to call you Rourke, then you must return the honor and call me Georgia. After all, it looks as if we are to be house mates for a day or two.”

As the children whooped happily, Demon growled under his breath. “Twatwads.”

Thorne chucked his shoulder. “We’re no’ that bad. Ye have enough food, aye? I’ll take my usual room.”

He couldn’t take his usual room, because Georgia was in it.

She was now hurrying across the room. There was no way she could’ve heard his objection, but she’d guessed it, judging from the look on her face. When she reached him, she placed her hand on his arm in a way which made his skin warm and must’ve looked far too familiar to the unwanted guests.

“Demon, be—” She glanced at Thorne and lowered her voice. “Be reasonable. They cannot travel in this weather.”

“They shouldnae have left Exingham in the first place.”

She squeezed his arm. “You yourself commented on how quickly the clouds moved in, when we were outside trimming the ivy. They could not have known, and are lucky to be here. I know it will mean more work for Mrs. Kettel and Mary, but I will of course help them the best I can.”

She was an Earl’s daughter. She shouldn’t be changing sheets and dusting, and the fact she was made him realize how much her tenure here at Endymion had changed her.

It wasn’t until Rourke had shown up that Demon had realized how at ease she was when it came to interacting with peers and nobility—even if Rourke and his family weren’t like that—and how strange it must’ve been for her to get used to life at Endymion.

Georgia must’ve taken his glare as disagreement, because she pressed closer. “It will be fine, Demon. We can prepare one of the smaller chambers for Viscount Thornebury—”

Who, proving he was shamelessly eavesdropping, leaned in. “Call me Thorne, my dear, I insist.”

Ignoring the interruption, Georgia raised her voice and continued, “And their Graces—Rourke and Sophia can take my bedchamber. Perhaps the children could sleep…” She glanced around, as if looking for a prepared, dusted, aired, and attired bedchamber to conveniently appear.

It was Hunter and Gabrielle themselves who supplied the answer, bouncing about in excitement.

“We can sleep here!”

“Yes! On the chaise!”

“I want to sleep on the bearskin rug!”