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“The English countryside never disappoints, My Lord,” Miss Lovell suddenly said to Alex as they walked. Despite being on another man’s arm, she was still determined to engage Firman, George thought. He should have known that she wasn’t one to be easily deterred.

There was challenge in her gaze when she briefly looked up and met his too. “Now I understand what you meant, My Lord, when you spoke so highly of the weather and environment here,” she added, fleetingly shutting her eyes and taking in a deep breath as though to test the very air and atmosphere she was so commending.

George found himself admiring her features when she closed her eyes. His gaze settled on her pert little lips, and he quickly averted it. What was wrong with him?

“I am glad to see that I haven’t exaggerated and disappointed you, Miss Lovell,” Alexander replied from across.

“Oh, I was already convinced since that orange juice, My Lord,” she chuckled, leaning forward and smiling at Firman, who responded in kind.

“You have been full of praises for Francois, Miss Lovell. I shall remember to relay this to him,” Alex chuckled.

“Oh, I hardly think those praises are for Francois,” George met her gaze with renewed challenge in his own. He’d seen her cards. And he wanted her to know that.

“Well, it is the Earl’s efforts and the cook’s hard work and passion combined that are pleasing our taste buds so, don’t you agree, Your Grace?” She smiled sweetly, clearly accepting his challenge now.

George was enjoying this, he realized curiously.

“You flatter me, Miss Lovell,” Alexander said.

“I merely state an observation, My Lord,” she replied, giving George a sly smile as she spoke.

“On the contrary, Miss Lovell, I do agree that there is nothing a little hard work and passion cannot yield,” George picked up from where he’d left off, refusing to give her the satisfaction of excluding him from the conversation.

Just then, Aunt Jane suddenly reappeared, seeking Alexander’s attention. “Oh, Firman, I’ve been meaning to introduce you to Lady Ashbury. She joined us late last night,” Jane said before whisking him away, leaving George alone with Miss Lovell.

They fell into an awkward silence as they continued walking until they came across a stall displaying various hand-crafted goods. Among them was an interesting painting of Aztec inspiration.

“Such fascinating patterns,” Miss Lovell paused before the painting, her interest piqued.

“You have a good eye, My Lady,” the stall owner, an elderly man who appeared to be in his seventies, complimented her with a warm smile.

“This should be Aztec,” George supplied. “They are known to exploit such curiously intricate geometric patterns,” he explained, his tone casual yet informative.

“The lines and shapes seem to jump at one, I could almost touch them,” she remarked, looking positively captivated as she stared at the work of art.

“You like art, Miss Lovell?” George couldn’t help but inquire, noticing her absorbed expression.

“Why, I positively adore it in all its forms,” her eyes somehow shone with even more interest. “Sadly, I haven’t the talent for it,” she sighed, a note of regret in her voice.

“But a keen eye for good judgment, it would seem,” the old man commended, and she smiled demurely in response.

“Such talent… So real…” She turned back to the painting. “The wet on wet cross-hatching brush technique tends to highlight the shadows and make the angles stand out,” George explained further, his knowledge evident.

“You seem quite versed in this,” she observed with a hint of surprise, her gaze flickering with new curiosity.

“One cannot help but pick up a thing or two if they indulge in a hobby for years,” he responded with a modest shrug.

“Hobby?” She echoed, the perplexed look on her face dissolving into one of realization. “You paint!” She exclaimed, her tone a mixture of astonishment and admiration.

George nodded, confirming her guess even though it was not posed as a question.

“Now I feel envious,” she declared, her expression as sheepish as it was impressed.

And George couldn’t help but laugh at her bluntness, finding her candor refreshing. “How honest,” he remarked with amusement.

“I’ve heard that a lot,” she returned smugly, her confidence returning.

“And quite humble too,” he laughed again.