“She’s fine, thank you,” Miss Finch said with good cheer, as though her mongrel were not currently climbing up the silk stocking of Alexander’s footman. “We’re both fine. Gertie made the journey up from London before the snow fell, and we’ve spent the past fortnight in Houville having a brilliant time of it. Haven’t we, Gertie?”
Lady Gertrude’s eyes grew even wider, her face worryingly pale.
“The carriage ride was quick enough,” Miss Finch continued, “and your refreshment table as outstanding as I remembered. Why should drinking chocolate only be served at breakfast, I always say. Gertie loves chocolate, don’t you, Gertie?”
Lady Gertrude blanched further.
“She is also an accomplished pianist, capable of the finest embroidery I have ever seen, and is well-versed in the minute details of managing the staff of a large estate. Now that her elder sisters have married, Gertie frequently steers the household of the country pile whilst her parents are in London. Don’t let her young age fool you. If I had a dukedom, I would feel absolutely confident with Lady Gertrude at the helm.”
“If you had a...” What the devil was Miss Finch talking about?
Dukedoms.Hisdukedom.
Lady Gertrude.
Miss Finch wasmatchmaking. Or at least, attempting to, her charge’s frozen demeanor notwithstanding.
Alexander cleared his throat. “She certainly sounds...”
What was he doing, talking about Lady Gertrude in third person as though she weren’t standing right in front of him?
He turned to Lady Gertrude and smiled.
She looked like a puff of air could knock her over.
“You certainly sound like a capable young lady.” Capable of disappearing through the floorboards before allowing her eyes to meet his. “I look forward to speaking more with you—” Or hearing her speak at all, rather. “—over the course of the party.”
There.
That was politeandtrue, and more than welcoming. Surely he could now extricate himself from Miss Finch’s radiating energy, and slip off to—
A tiny bark sounded from beneath the biscuit table. A blur of brown fur shot out from under the tablecloth, only to launch itself up through the air in the direction of Alexander’s freshly pressed and starched cravat.
Lady Gertrude’s arms flashed out, snatching the puppy from thin air with lightning reflexes, only to toss the mongrel up over her shoulder in the direction of Miss Finch.
Miss Finch not only intercepted the puppy smoothly, as though this were a maneuver they’d practiced for months, she rubbed between his ears and continued talking as if nothing at all had occurred.
“Gertie is very organized,” she was saying. “You have never seen a more orderly kitchen or library than the ones on the earl’s estate. The household is gallingly neat. If you leave her alone too long near your refreshment table, you’ll return to find every item in alphabetical order.”
“It’s already in alphabetical order,” Alexander said.
He wasn’t thinking about the refreshment tableorLady Gertrude.
The puppy had flopped belly-up against Miss Finch’s bodice, all four paws with their tiny little pads pointing in four different directions. Alexander could swear the mongrel smiled as Miss Finch rubbed its belly, his little pink tongue hanging from his mouth in obvious ecstasy. His fur looked ridiculously soft.
Miss Finch lifted her arms in Alexander’s direction. “Want to touch?”
He was now looking at her bare arms instead of the puppy.
Of course he was.
Alexander’s footmen relieved guests of their winter hats and coats as they entered the cottage. It should not surprise him at all to discover Miss Finch clothed in a highly impractical lightweight frock with short puffed sleeves rather than the more sensible long-sleeved velvet-and-sarcenet of her young charge’s gown.
Miss Finch’s bare arms were completely exposed to the air… and to Alexander’s gaze.
Her skin looked just as soft as the puppy snuggling into her arms. Soft and warm, for there was no sign of gooseflesh upon her skin.
Until she noticed him looking. Goosebumps rippled down her arm as a flush raced up her cheeks.
