Page 20

Chapter Eleven

Rafferty made his escape, cursing himself as he went. It was all perfectly well to keep Georgie away from Norah’s biting tongue—the young woman was a menace.

What made less sense was his efforts to keep her away from Andrew Salton.

He wanted her to marry someone, didn’t he?

Salton should be exactly who he’d want for her.

Salton could take good care of her without crushing her spirit, and Rafferty wouldn’t have to worry about her or even think about her anymore.

Salton had brought her flowers, though that scarcely improved him in Rafferty’s eyes.

Baby pink roses, innocent and sweet, and all Rafferty’s protective instincts were aroused.

Georgie deserved peonies, pink and flush and luscious, though Rafferty had no idea whether they were grown in hothouses or not.

But Andrew Salton saw what he wanted to see when he looked at Georgie—a simple, shy young lady cut from the same cloth as everyone else.

She was no ordinary young lady of the ton, she was so much more, she was?—

He cursed as he made his way to the kitchen. Bertha glowered at him from her seat at the table, a cup of tea in front of her.

“What’s wrong with them?” she asked suspiciously as he tossed Salton’s flowers into the trash.

“They have bugs,” he lied. He wanted Georgie to find a good man, he truly did. Just not this one.

But none of the other hopeful young men who’d crowded around Norah today would do, either. Georgie deserved better than that, and he had every intention of finding the perfect man for her. No matter how long it took.

Bertha looked him for a long, silent moment. “I just hope you know what you’re doing,” she said finally, and he knew she wasn’t talking about the flowers.

“I always do,” he said, and wondered if that were true.

“She’s a piece of work!” Martina announced as she flounced into the kitchen.

“Which one?” Bertha asked. “Miss Norah or Miss Georgie? They’re all crazy if you ask me.”

Martina cast a sly glance in his direction. “All of them?”

“Miss Georgie’s the worst. Not a practical bone in her body.”

But Rafferty wasn’t about to react to this provocation from the women staring at him so meaningfully. “I’ve yet to see any sign of it,” he said blandly.

“I was talking about that Miss Norah. Miss Georgie is an angel.”

Rafferty gave out a derisive laugh.

“You’re not fooling me, young man,” Bertha said.

“I’m thirty-one—hardly young,” he protested, ignoring the main question.

“Oh, don’t be stupid, Rafferty,” Martina said as she took a seat opposite Bertha and poured herself a cup of tea. “You know perfectly well that the girl’s in love with you. Head over heels, in fact.”

“Which one?” he said, deliberately obtuse.

“You know who I’m talking about,” Martina chided him. “I tried to warn her.”

“Try harder,” he grumbled. “And she’ll forget about me as soon as an acceptable young man shows up. The right one,” he amended, thinking of Salton.

“You underestimate your allure,” Martina said. “She sees you as some romantic figure.”

“No one finds their butler romantic.”

“But you’re not an ordinary butler and we all know it. She’s at the age when she likes that edge of danger you try to hide.”

“Butlers don’t have an edge of danger, as you so melodramatically put it.”

“You do.”

Rafferty made a face. “She’ll grow out of it.”

“Hmmph,” Bertha said again, and Rafferty glared at her. There was nothing worse than a woman who thought she knew more than he did. Particularly when she did.

“Miss Georgie says she’ll be ready for walk at two,” Martina said slyly.

“What?”

“Lady Manning promised you’d accompany her on a walk this afternoon.”

“Why not you? You’re her maid.”

“Miss Norah and her ladyship have already claimed my time.”

“I thought I told you to favor Georgie?”

“ Miss Georgie,” Bertha corrected him with a fierce gleam in her eyes.

“And why exactly was that?” Martina said. “She’s the only one who’s not interested in monopolizing my time.”

“No one pays any attention to her.”

“You do.”

Rafferty ground his teeth. “I have to visit Sir Elston’s tailor. I don’t have time to shepherd a child around London. Her brother can take her.”

“Her brother will be three sheets to the wind by then,” Bertha said. “You wouldn’t want to let the lass down, now, would you?”

“The tailor,” he said firmly, and made his escape.

He was making a royal mess of things, he thought later when he returned to the house on Corinth Place.

He’d taken as much time as he possibly could, not returning home until the early autumn dusk was closing around the city.

Georgie would have prevailed on someone else to accompany her on a proper, leisurely stroll—it was no job for a butler.

Not that he could envision Georgie with a leisurely stroll. She had a tendency to rush at things pell-mell, just like a schoolgirl.

But she wasn’t a schoolgirl, and he was learning to accept that. Reluctantly.

Dinner was en famille that evening, to be followed by that damned ball at the Duke of Ormond’s house. Rafferty almost dreaded to see what she would wear.

His worst fears were realized when she came downstairs. She was radiant in a pale blue that brought out the color of her usually mischievous eyes. They weren’t mischievous now—she was looking at him with deep reproach.

Neddy had managed to dress himself, with Rafferty’s help, and he was just barely sober enough to make it to the table, giving his mother an affectionate kiss on her proffered cheek before sinking into his chair.

The Beauty was in fine fettle that night, a malicious glint in her eyes as she glanced at her unhappy sister, but she waited until the third remove before she dove in like the harpy she was.

“Georgie is looking rather forlorn, Mama,” she announced.

Lady Manning looked up, blinking. “Oh, dear. Are you feeling quite the thing, Georgie? Should I call the doctor?”

“We can’t afford the doctor,” Sir Elston grumbled.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Liliane said with an airy laugh. “Rafferty can get him for us. Rafferty can get anything for us. I quite don’t know how we got on without him—he’s been an absolute miracle worker.”

“Humph,” said Norah. “Have you ever wondered how he’s managed to perform these miracles? After all, we know absolutely nothing about him. We found him begging in the streets.”

“Oh, surely not begging,” Liliane protested. “He’s much too elegant for that. In truth, he’s the most presentable butler we’ve ever had—I’m quite taken with him.”

“You and George,” Norah said.

“What do you mean by that?” Sir Elston demanded, roused from his usual habit of ignoring his unruly family.

“Why, only that Georgie is head over heels in love with him, and she follows him around like a puppy dog. It’s a wonder he gets anything done with Georgie hanging onto him.”

“I am not!” Georgie snapped with a little more force than necessary. “And even if I were, what business is it of yours?”

Rafferty considered beating a hasty retreat. He’d taken up his position by the sideboard in lieu of footmen, but the Mannings obviously considered him to be part of the furniture as they debated his existence.

“You see, Mother. Next thing we know, he’ll run off with her and we’ll all be ruined.”

“Stuff it, Norah.” Neddy roused himself from his abstraction. “Georgie’s not going to do anything that embarrasses us.”

“Well, I don’t know,” Liliane said worriedly. “She is awfully headstrong.”

“And stupid,” Norah added. “The first handsome man to pay attention to her and she’s all gaga.”

“I’m right here,” Georgie said in a testy voice, and Rafferty was strongly tempted to add, so am I .

“He’s paying attention to her?” Sir Elston said dangerously, glaring at him from beneath his heavy brows. “What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, just that he arranged for her wardrobe to be delivered, while my dresses still languish at Madame Racette’s. I hardly think it proper for a man to dress my supposedly innocent sister who’s barely allowed out in society.”

Sir Elston was at the point of exploding when Liliane broke in.

“Well, I do see your point, Norah dear. After all, it’s your season.

But she does look charmingly in her new dresses, though I don’t quite remember ordering them, but I must have, or else how would Madame Racette know to deliver them? I swear, I’m all a muddle.”

“I’m not,” Sir Elston growled.

“Pretty dresses are a waste of time in George’s case,” Norah said spitefully. “You can put rouge on a pig, and it’s still just a pig with rouge.”

“Stuff it, Sis,” Neddy said blearily.

“You’re a beast!” Georgie stormed, finally having had enough. “You’re just jealous because Rafferty likes me and he thinks you’re a snake. He told me so.”

“He did what?” Sir Elston thundered.

Norah laughed, but her eyes glittered. “You see what I mean? And don’t fool yourself, George. Rafferty likes me very much. He merely feels sorry for you.”

“He does not!” Georgie cried. “Do you, Rafferty?”

They all turned to look at him, and he cursed inwardly. This was bad enough when he was a piece of furniture—now he was forced to respond.

“I’m quite sure Rafferty loves us all,” Liliane said brightly. “Don’t you, Rafferty?”

“I hold the entire family in high esteem,” he said in a grave monotone.

“Even me?” Norah purred.

“Of course, Miss Manning.”

“I must say that new lady’s maid you found us is a wonder,” Liliane broke in, thankfully changing the subject. “I vow I haven’t had my hair done properly in weeks.”

“A new maid?” Sir Elston exploded. “We can’t afford one!”

“We can’t afford anything Rafferty has brought to us, and yet somehow he manages,” Norah said with acid sweetness. “I just shudder to think what will happen when the bills finally come due.”

“Nonsense, child. Don’t bother your head about money! I never do,” said Liliane.

“I’m well aware of that,” her husband said stiffly.