Page 16 of Scandal With A Viscount

Louis watched him with the idle interest of a man assessing a new arrival. Nothing more. There was no reason for the prickle at the back of his neck, no reason to dislike a man he'd never met.

Dunblane's gaze swept the lawn and found Georgie. His expression changed into heated desire. The look of a man greeting a woman he knew well. Intimately.

He crossed the grass to her with a confidence that made Louis's hands tighten on the bowl he was holding.

“Lady Georgiana.” Dunblane took her hand before she'd extended it. “What a pleasure. It has been far too long.”

Louis hadn’t missed how Georgie's step had faltered for half a second when she saw him. But now she'd collected herself and grinned back at him.

“Lord Dunblane.” Her gaze narrowed on the man. “I wasn't aware you would be joining the party.”

“I would have been here at the start, but I was otherwise engaged.” He held her hand a beat too long, his thumb brushing across her knuckles before he bowed over it. When he straightened, he didn't release her. His other palm came to rest on her forearm—an intimate, familiar gesture.

And Louis seethed watching the display.

Georgie didn't pull away. She smiled and said something Louis couldn't hear across the lawn, and Dunblane laughed in response.

Louis's chest went tight.

He watched Dunblane lean closer to say something near her ear. His hand was still on her arm. Georgie's smile stayed in place, giving nothing away.

She knew this man. And Louis didn’t like it one bit. He fought the urge not to rush between them and punch the man square in his bloody nose.

Dunblane released her, his hand trailing along Georgie’s arm as he stepped away, and moved toward the house with Wes.

She stood on the lawn and something crossed her face before her expression smoothed. Louis wasn’t certain what it meant. Then she turned and walked toward the house without looking in his direction.

Louis set down the bowl and followed. He caught her in the entrance hall, the cool shade of the house closing around them after the brightness of the lawn.

“Who is Dunblane to you?”

“No one.” She didn't look at him. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to find my mother before luncheon.”

She walked past him without meeting his gaze. He reached for her arm—not grabbing, just a touch at her elbow—and she stepped out of his reach without breaking stride.

“Georgie—”

“Not now, Louis.” Her voice was quiet and firm and it shut him out. Slamming a door in his face would have been kinder.

He stood in the hall and watched her disappear down the corridor. His hand was still extended where she'd sidestepped it, and he let it fall to his side.

Last night she'd pressed her mouth to his knuckles and told him things she'd never told anyone. She'd stayed in his bed for hours, laughing, talking, letting him see the woman she was. And now she wouldn't look at him.

Louis replayed her words from last night. A couple of lovers. Chosen with care. And one who wasn't—the first, the one who'd made promises and disappeared. He'd assumed that man had hurt her. What if she avoided attachment because she'd been waiting for him to come back?

Dunblane had touched her with the confidence of a man who'd done so before. And Georgie had let him.

The thought sat in his stomach and curdled there. He needed to get to the bottom of this.

That would prove to be a more difficult endeavor than he anticipated. At luncheon Georgie sat between her mother and Thea, and she didn't glance in his direction. In the afternoon, Dunblane found her near the rose garden. His hand settled on the small of her back as he guided her around a puddle on the path. She let it rest there for three steps before moving away. Three steps. Louis counted each one of them from across the lawn, his jaw aching from how hard he was clenching it.

She didn’t appear ready to take the man to bed, but she wasn’t pushing him away either.

At dinner, Dunblane was seated near her, leaving Louis to push his food around his plate as he watched the man fight to keep her attention. She answered something Dunblane said with a single word Louis couldn't hear and then turned to the woman on her other side.

Louis gripped his wine glass a bit too tightly but reminded himself that shattering it would cause a scene.

He tried to catch Georgie after dinner. She was ahead of him in the corridor, and he matched her pace, falling in beside her as other guests filtered past. She headed toward the stairs, bypassing the salon where the guests were gathering.