Page 18 of The Mistletoe Dare

“Well?” Blackwood persisted. “Spit it out.”

Rochford made a harrumphing sound and rubbed the back of his neck. “She… I… I might have been somewhat… ill-tempered.”

“You?” Blackwood said, feigning astonishment. “Ill-tempered? I don’t believe it.”

“Sod off.”

“Such charming company I keep. In what way were you ill-tempered, Rochford?”

Realising he would not get a moment’s peace if he didn’t tell all, Rochford capitulated. “I suggested she was trying to… lure me.”

“Lure you?” Jules said, sitting up straighter. “What the devil did you mean by that?”

“Into marrying her, dammit. I suggested the chit was after my title,” Rochford said, feeling ridiculous now, which only irritated him all the more.

Jules stared at him, so clearly astonished that Rochford felt a prize twit. As if a woman like Lady Georgina would ever consider him, even if it was only for his money and his title. She’d have no trouble making a fine match, and without having to spend the rest of her days enduring his ugly mug.

“You think Lady Georgina was trying to flirt with you, hoping to become a duchess?”

“I never said it made any sense, did I?” Rochford retorted. “But that’s why she hates me.”

“I should think she does! Well, that certainly explains why she came back into the parlour with her feathers all on end. The questions is, though, what made you think that was what she was after?”

Rochford scowled down into his whisky, wishing it wouldn’t keep putting him in mind of Lady Georgina’s beautiful tawny eyes. “She was kind to me,” he grumbled.

“She was kind to you,” Blackwood repeated, sotto voce.

“Yes.” Rochford glared at him, wondering why the idiot didn’t understand plain English all of a sudden.

“She was kind to you, and so you accused her of trying to lure you into marriage?”

Rochford rubbed a hand over his face. “Yes! I said so, didn’t I?”

“Rochford, I’m kind to you, but I assure you—”

“One more word,” Rochford said, pointing a finger at him.

Blackwood subsided with a smirk. “Very well, but really, Rochford, what were you thinking? Georgie is a dear creature with a kind heart. Why shouldn’t she be kind to you, too? What makes you so special that she wouldn’t include you? She’s kind to everyone, even me.”

Rochford frowned. He hadn’t considered that. Perhaps the foolish girl was simply deluded. One of those poor, simple beings who thought all God’s creatures were precious, even the slithery, crawling ones. Well, that made some sense, perhaps. He’d heard of young women getting fanatically religious and wanting to be nuns, and going about doing good works at all hours of the day and night. Perhaps it was something of that sort.

“She’s perfectly sane, Rochford,” Jules said dryly, proving something that Rochford had suspected for some time. The devil knew him too well.

Rochford swallowed his drink and got up to pour another.

“So, you’ll come tonight?”

“I never said I would,” Rochford retorted.

“No, but you need the opportunity to apologise to Lady Georgina for being a—”

“An obnoxious arse,” Rochford supplied for him. “Her words, not mine.”

Blackwood snorted and headed for the door. “Well, she’s got your measure, that’s for sure. Be ready to leave at seven thirty.”

Rochford gave a groan of frustration, but didn’t argue.

Chapter 6