however you please, of course,” he said warily. “Forgive me for not assisting you myself.”
She smiled sweetly. “I had no such expectations from you, my lord.”
He smiled uneasily, wondering if she was now the one teasing him. With Julia, he always knew where he stood; she was charmingly uncomplicated, her thoughts and moods writ clear across her lovely face. But Gus was much more of a challenge to decipher, and he was quickly coming to realize that he needed to pay close attention to what she said when he was with her.
He watched her as she first pulled the window’s curtain more fully open, and then arranged the chair so the sunlight would fall over her shoulder. Although he hated being restricted to a single room, he’d grudgingly come to realize that the bedchamber had its merits here on the corner of the house, with tall windows that let in the sun throughout most of the day. Hungry for the outside world, he’d had Tewkes leave the curtains drawn day and night so he could see the trees and fields, the sky and changing skies.
Now the dark wood of the nearest window’s sash framed Gus as well as the landscape behind her. While Julia had a classically styled profile, her sister’s cheeks were full and her freckled nose snubbed. But her brows were delicate and elegantly arched, and the sweep of her long lashes over those rounded cheeks as she looked down at the magazine in her lap was pleasing indeed.
He’d dismissed her hair as ordinary, a pale brown of no distinction, but here the sunlight discovered a fascinating variety of light copper and gold strands mingled together. Little wisping curls had slipped free from beneath the ruffled cap, swaying around her face in the breeze through the open window. As she spread the magazine on her lap, she licked her lips in preparation for reading, a delicious little flick of her tongue that intrigued him no end.
“There certainly are a great many articles in this issue,” she said, frowning a bit as she surveyed the contents. “What would you like me to read to you?”
“Read me the titles that interest you,” he suggested, “and I’ll choose one.”
“Very well, my lord,” she said, and cleared her throat. “‘A description of the emblematical design on the gold box in which the freedom of the city of London was presented to His Royal Highness the Prince of Brunswick.’ Goodness, I wouldn’t think he’d need to be given the freedom. Being a royal prince, I’d rather assume he could go wherever he pleased in London.”
“He’s not an English prince,” Harry said. “He’s a German-Prussian one, and a soldier, too, responsible for heroic feats in the last war. Duke Ferdinand of Brunswick-Wolfen-something. I expect he’s been given the freedom of the city because he’s some distant Hanoverian cousin of our own king. His Majesty does like to keep his family about.”
She looked up, curious. “Have you been presented to His Majesty?”
“Of course.” Being a duke and one with royal blood as well, his father was often at court, serving as one of the king’s Gentlemen of the Bedchamber. “That is, I don’t recall being formally presented to His Majesty. My father spends much time at court, and frequently took me with him when I was a boy. The palace is much like any other London town house, only larger and grander, and filled with odd folk.”
“Truly?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Julia said it was a very grand place, the grandest she’d ever seen. She said being presented was the most magnificent moment of her life.”
“It can also be the most tedious moment, given the size of the crowd,” he said from the experience of one who generally avoided the royal drawing rooms. “But I expect one day they’ll stick white feathers on your head and make you curtsey low, just like all the other noble daughters.”
“I suppose so,” she said faintly. “Do you wish to hear about the prince’s gold box or not?”
“Not
She smiled sweetly. “I had no such expectations from you, my lord.”
He smiled uneasily, wondering if she was now the one teasing him. With Julia, he always knew where he stood; she was charmingly uncomplicated, her thoughts and moods writ clear across her lovely face. But Gus was much more of a challenge to decipher, and he was quickly coming to realize that he needed to pay close attention to what she said when he was with her.
He watched her as she first pulled the window’s curtain more fully open, and then arranged the chair so the sunlight would fall over her shoulder. Although he hated being restricted to a single room, he’d grudgingly come to realize that the bedchamber had its merits here on the corner of the house, with tall windows that let in the sun throughout most of the day. Hungry for the outside world, he’d had Tewkes leave the curtains drawn day and night so he could see the trees and fields, the sky and changing skies.
Now the dark wood of the nearest window’s sash framed Gus as well as the landscape behind her. While Julia had a classically styled profile, her sister’s cheeks were full and her freckled nose snubbed. But her brows were delicate and elegantly arched, and the sweep of her long lashes over those rounded cheeks as she looked down at the magazine in her lap was pleasing indeed.
He’d dismissed her hair as ordinary, a pale brown of no distinction, but here the sunlight discovered a fascinating variety of light copper and gold strands mingled together. Little wisping curls had slipped free from beneath the ruffled cap, swaying around her face in the breeze through the open window. As she spread the magazine on her lap, she licked her lips in preparation for reading, a delicious little flick of her tongue that intrigued him no end.
“There certainly are a great many articles in this issue,” she said, frowning a bit as she surveyed the contents. “What would you like me to read to you?”
“Read me the titles that interest you,” he suggested, “and I’ll choose one.”
“Very well, my lord,” she said, and cleared her throat. “‘A description of the emblematical design on the gold box in which the freedom of the city of London was presented to His Royal Highness the Prince of Brunswick.’ Goodness, I wouldn’t think he’d need to be given the freedom. Being a royal prince, I’d rather assume he could go wherever he pleased in London.”
“He’s not an English prince,” Harry said. “He’s a German-Prussian one, and a soldier, too, responsible for heroic feats in the last war. Duke Ferdinand of Brunswick-Wolfen-something. I expect he’s been given the freedom of the city because he’s some distant Hanoverian cousin of our own king. His Majesty does like to keep his family about.”
She looked up, curious. “Have you been presented to His Majesty?”
“Of course.” Being a duke and one with royal blood as well, his father was often at court, serving as one of the king’s Gentlemen of the Bedchamber. “That is, I don’t recall being formally presented to His Majesty. My father spends much time at court, and frequently took me with him when I was a boy. The palace is much like any other London town house, only larger and grander, and filled with odd folk.”
“Truly?” she asked, her eyes wide. “Julia said it was a very grand place, the grandest she’d ever seen. She said being presented was the most magnificent moment of her life.”
“It can also be the most tedious moment, given the size of the crowd,” he said from the experience of one who generally avoided the royal drawing rooms. “But I expect one day they’ll stick white feathers on your head and make you curtsey low, just like all the other noble daughters.”
“I suppose so,” she said faintly. “Do you wish to hear about the prince’s gold box or not?”
“Not
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