Her Only Desire by Gaelen Foley

of you to come.”
    â€œOh, you’re not angry, are you?”
    â€œHow could I be? We haven’t seen our little sister in over a year.”
    â€œJust don’t get us into trouble with Lord Griffith,” Derek warned in a low tone. “Good man, but he prefers things to go by the book, if you know what I mean.”
    â€œTell me about it,” Georgie muttered.
    â€œYou’d better promise us that you’ll behave,” Gabriel said, eyeing her askance.
    Georgie snorted. “I shall do nothing of the kind.”
    Derek laughed and tugged a lock of her hair. “You haven’t changed.”
    â€œWell, I see the identity of our ‘princess’ is finally revealed,” a deep, droll voice remarked from a few yards away. The sound of crisp, slow footfalls rang out across the flagstones.
    Georgie froze. Although her back was to him, she recognized the voice, and it took no great skill to detect the irritation underlying his sardonic tone.
    Griffith.
    â€œAh, sorry, sir.” Gabriel cleared his throat and sent Georgie a warning glance that told her to mind her manners. “We were just finishing up here.”
    â€œNot at all, gentlemen,” he replied, his tone as mild as a spring day. An ominous sign. “Take your time, by all means. Negotiations have been adjourned for the day. Curious, that,” he added. “It’s only…one o’clock.”
    Bracing herself to confront him, Georgie turned around just as the marquess finished glancing at his fob watch. He closed it with a reproachful snick. His eyes gleamed, and the moment their gazes collided, she felt the impact with a thrill that ran all the way down to her toes.
    Oo, I can’t stand him,
she told herself, but was irked to know she was not immune to his worldly magnetism.
    He looked like a dream.
    Suave and polished as ever, he wore a dark chocolate tailcoat, flawless white cravat, and fawn trousers. Fixing his cool, dissecting stare on her, he tucked his fob watch back into his burgundy-striped waistcoat. Georgie noted the taut set of his jaw and wondered if she might be safer out there with the Pindaris.
    Nevertheless, the marquess appeared resigned to their reunion.
Good.
For she wasn’t leaving. In truth, she could barely wait to get him alone so she could give him a piece of her mind.
    This imperious London grandee needed a lesson or two in how to treat a lady, starting with the fundamentals: namely, that he could not simply lock her up like some pampered prisoner for the sake of his own convenience.
    It was unfair of him to judge her entire character on the basis of one incident, that unfortunate business near old Balaram’s funeral pyre. Most importantly, he needed to learn that he had no authority over her. How that must drive him mad, now that he saw the evidence of it—her standing here! She would make her own decisions, thank you very much.
    â€œYou, ah, already met our sister, my lord,” Gabriel reminded him cautiously, breaking the awkward silence.
    â€œOh, yes. I most certainly did.” The marquess angled his head toward her with courteous precision. “Miss Knight,” he said in a voice as smooth as glass. “How very charming to see you again.”
    â€œLikewise, my lord.” She gave him a queenly nod.
    They stared at each other, and Georgie decided not to tell her brothers yet that the beast had tried to put her under house arrest. No, far wiser to hold that threat over his head in case she needed to wrest a few concessions from him.
    Besides, there were one or two things she’d rather he not tell her brothers, either. Like her rescue of Lakshmi and the calamity that had nearly resulted.
    Derek cleared his throat. “The, er, king’s advisers probably needed time to digest your proposal,” he offered, making a valiant attempt to deflect Lord Griffith’s displeasure, which, though restrained, was palpable.
    â€œIndeed.”