She gave him a chagrined look. “I am glad you remember the way back.”
Gavin tucked her hand in his arm. “Never fear, my lady fair. I shall find the way out of the maze.”
“Lead on then, sir.”
Even though there were several doors and two corridors that could have tripped them up, it was not too difficult to trace their way to the portrait gallery. He was surprised that she trusted him to lead. Generally, she was the one who was so certain. Then again, she admitted she did not know the way. Still, it gave him a sense of accomplishment to know she trusted him. At least this much. But he needed her to trust him much more.
As they approached the hall, Gavin heard the front door open and grabbed Georgie’s hand. “Someone else is coming in.”
They sprinted into the hall and stopped in front of their hostesses just before Lytton and Lady Aurelia arrived. Her ladyship gasped and burst into laughter, causing Georgie to do the same.
“I had no idea we would be so competitive,” she exclaimed. “But it seems that we are.” Taking the basket from Gavin, she handed it to Mrs. Fitzwalter. “That was a great deal of fun.”
“It was indeed.” Lady Aurelia gave Lady Turner a wooden bucket.
Despite the ladies having a good time, Gavin could have sworn Lytton glared at him for a brief second.
“We are so glad you enjoyed it,” Lady Turner said. “We have arranged for a light luncheon before we go to town for the market.”
“It is set up in the dining room,” Mrs. Fitzwalter added.
“But before you go, we must give you your prize.” She glanced at Gavin and Georgie, and his muscles seemed to tighten. “You each receive a prize. One is to go into meals with the person of your choice, and the other is the feather.”
“Ladies first.” Gavin held his breath. He wanted to be able to sit next to Georgie at every meal they had here, but it was up to her to decide.
“How could I not take the feather?” She grinned. “But are you certain you wish to give it up?”
“Oh, yes,” Lady Turner said. “We would not have offered it otherwise.”
“In that case.” He looked down at Georgie. “I wish to escort Miss Featherton to dinner for the rest of the week.” And the rest of her life.
Her cheeks turned a pretty pink, and he was happy she was pleased.
“Very well, my lord.” Mrs. Fitzwalter and Lady Turner exchanged a conspiratorial look.
Now, what was that about? “I do have a question. Where did the name ‘gypsy hunt’ come from?”
Lady Turner grinned. “When we were children the gypsies that camped near us had the most interesting items for sale. At some point, our mothers decided that instead of simply purchasing the items and giving them to us, they would hide them and make us search for our gifts.”
That sounded innocuous enough. Although he still could not like the name. Gavin held his arm out to Georgie. “I’m famished.”
“I am becoming peckish as well.” She looked at their hostesses. “Do you know where Lord and Lady Littleton are?”
“In the dining room,” Lady Turner said. “She has been a bit tired.” The lady touched her stomach. “I suppose I shall experience that in a few months.”
“Oh, Mary!” Georgie hugged the other woman. “I am so pleased for you.” Then she looked at Mrs. Fitzwalter. “It looks as if there will be several births close together.”
He hadn’t known the other lady was with child as well. An image of Georgie round with his child came into his mind. With any luck at all, she would not be far behind the rest of the ladies. “Congratulations. Your husbands and families must be delighted.”
“Thank you, my lord,” the ladies said as one.
As they strolled to the dining room it suddenly occurred to him that whoever had put Georgie and him by themselves in an attic might have been doing some matchmaking. Even though the door had remained open, they had been completely alone. Part of him wished they had been found, but a larger part of him knew that would not have helped his cause to convince her to marry him because she wanted to.
Chapter Seventeen
Over the next hour or so the rest of the group straggled into the dining room having had various degrees of success. What really interested Georgie was the last arrivals. The Earl of St. Albans and Miss Blomefield—who had asked the ladies to call her Delia. Although she was making her first come out, it had been delayed by two years. Therefore, she was older than most of the other single ladies, including Georgie. Both of them appeared a little worse for wear.
“Please excuse me.” Delia brushed at her skirts. “I must change.” She left the room rather abruptly.
