Page 54 of The Mistletoe Dare

Joe rolled his eyes. “I didn’t mean you had to bed her! Blimey, you’re hard work. I only mean that you’ve a strong pair of arms to hold her with. Lady Georgina is a statuesque young woman and there’s few men who will make her feel delicate and fragile, but you can. Use that to your advantage. Take care of her. You’re good at that despite what people think, and she liked it when you kissed her before, didn’t she?”

“I think so.”

Joe made an exasperated sound.

“Yes!” Rochford said hurriedly. “Yes, she did, until I accused her of scheming to get the title.”

“Not your finest hour,” Joe said dryly. “Do try not to accuse the poor girl of any other diabolical crimes. Not everyone is as cynical as you are.”

“I know, I know. I apologised, didn’t I?”

“Well, she’s a kinder-hearted creature than I am. I’d have made you grovel for days. You need to marry that girl, Rochford, for you’ll not find another like her. For heaven’s sake, don’t cock it up.”

Rochford’s anxiety level rocketed to a new high, as Joe confirmed what he’d known all along. “I’m trying not to! Why do you think I’m enduring your advice and all this damn primping? For the pleasure of hearing you nag me to death?”

“You don’t pay me enough,” Joe said, smacking Rochford’s hands away as he tugged at his cravat. He pointed a threatening finger. “Leave it!”

“It’s choking me,” Rochford protested.

“Good.”

“Why do I put up with you?”

“Because I’m the only daft beggar who’ll put up with you,” Joe shot back. “Now hold out your hands.”

“What’s that?” Rochford asked, eyeing the small glass bottle suspiciously. “I’m not wearing bloody perfume!”

Joe took a deep breath. “Give me strength. It isn’t perfume, it’s cologne, which most elegant gentlemen wear, the ones who care a fig for their appearance and style, anyway. For your information, it’s the same cologne the Comte de Villen uses, and I had to leap through a great many hoops to get my hands on it, you ungrateful sod. I need to get it back to his valet quick sharp, though, so stop getting hysterical and put it on.”

“I’m not hysterical,” Rochford said indignantly. “I only said….”

“Oh, come here.” Too impatient to wait, Joe poured a small amount onto his fingers and applied it to Rochford’s gloves, cravat, and handkerchief. Rochford gave a sceptical sniff, but his expression eased as the sophisticated scent teased his senses. Something citrusy, lime perhaps, and…. “Tobacco?” Joe sniffed too and gave an appreciative sigh. “Yes, and sandalwood, I think. Very masculine. You smell good enough to eat.”

With a harrumph, Rochford accepted his hat from Joe and strode to the door.

“Oh, and your grace?”

“What?” Rochford demanded, hesitating at the door.

“Don’t bollocks it up.”

“Thank you so much for your sage advice, Joe. I don’t know what I would do without you,” the duke grumbled, closing the door on his smug valet.

“Stop fiddling with your hair. It will all come loose if you keep on,” Evie scolded, her breath clouding on the frosty air. Though the sun attempted to shine down on them, there was little warmth to be had. The ground was still white in places and an occasional snowflake drifted silently to earth.

Georgie stuffed her hands under her armpits, hoping to still them as they walked around to the stables. “I’m trying,” Georgie muttered. “But I always fidget when I’m nervous. Is this a bad idea? It is, isn’t it? It’s a bad idea, Evie. Perhaps I should pretend I’ve hurt my ankle.”

“Don’t be a dimwit. Then you’ll have to sit about with your foot up for days and miss out on all the fun, and you won’t be able to escape him if you really want to either.”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Georgie admitted. “See, my brain turns to pudding when I’m anxious.”

Evie shrugged. “My brain is always pudding or thinking about pudding. Especially ones with custard. Mmm. Drat it, now you’ve made me hungry.”

Georgie stared at her. “How is that my fault?”

“You were the one that mentioned pudding.”

They both laughed, and Evie took Georgie’s arm. “Stop fretting. It’s just a ride about the grounds. If you don’t want to be alone with him, you have me to chaperone, and if you do, you need only ride in your usual manner, and you’ll leave me miles behind. I’m not as brave as you, remember, and if you go over any big jumps, you are most certainly on your own.”