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He gave a slight shake to his head, hoping it might clear his brain of all the wicked thoughts. It didn’t. Those naughty fantasies weren’t even nudged slightly down and out.
“It is a small thing, sir. Consider yourself forgiven.” She turned back the way she had been facing before, her backside to him once again.
Yes… That lovely bum of hers, resting lusciously atop the seat of the swing, just begging to be stroked. He would use both hands to grip the cheeks as he slid up to—
“Mr. Greymont,” she admonished, “are you still there?”
His rampant conjuring interrupted for a second time, he jerked. Good God, man, get a hold of yourself!
“Yes, I—I—I was just about to ask if I may escort you back to the house, Miss Georgina. It’s probably not the best for you to be out here with the shooting going on. Yes? Please—please allow me.” He came around to the front of the swing and offered his arm.
Georgina eyed him thoroughly, probably wondering what flustered him and why he kept stammering like a half-wit. God, if she knew the truth, she wouldn’t think him “kind” or a “gentleman.” She’d most likely smack him in the chops. The idea of her trying to cuff him brought on a smile and a rush of more erotic fantasies. Of how he’d trap her hands and turn her so he could bend her over and get to her from behind—
Stop! You are such a bastard.
Thankfully the sweet Georgina could not read his naughty thoughts, for she smiled at him. Not much of a smile, more of a rueful expression than anything, but he was beginning to know this was typical of her. Whenever she did grace him with a smile, it was really only half-beam, and as arousing as hell.
In fact, everything about Georgina aroused him. She affected him profoundly. His body got tight and hard, his tongue tangled in the most annoying way, prohibiting coherent speech, and yet, he could not keep away regardless of how foolish he behaved in her presence. He was drawn like a bee to a glade of sweet blossoms.
“Very well, sir. I am past my time anyway and may expect certain chastisement from my papa for going out in the first place.” She got up from the swing and took his arm.
He gulped and cleared his throat again. “Surly not, Miss Georgina. Your father probably just wants to keep you safe from harm, yes?”
He loved the way she felt so soft next to him. He could smell her, too, and again the scent affected him viscerally, his kecks becoming uncomfortably cramped in the crotch.
The sarcasm rang clear in her answer. “Things are not always what they seem, Mr. Greymont. Remember that.”
“Now that sounds downright ominous, Miss Georgina.”
“It does, I know. You are right, sir. But still, it would be prudent to tread carefully, for your own sake.”
“I consider myself duly warned then.” He grinned saucily at her. “I think you are trying to scare me
off, but you should know that I don’t panic easily, especially when my mind is set.”
“So you say, Mr. Greymont.” She curtsied. “Thank you for the escort.” She turned abruptly and left him.
Jeremy watched her go, unable to redirect his eyes. The allure of her hips swaying in cadence with her gown caused his cock to twitch. Like the thing wanted to chase after her. Which, of course, was spot-on really. As he rearranged himself so he could walk without limping, he thought about what she’d told him. “Things aren’t always what they seem.”
Isn’t that the cry of the day!
Chapter Five
Bring me my bow of burning gold:
Bring me my arrows of desire:
—William Blake, Milton (1804)
Rainy weather was fine for shooting birds, but rather a hindrance to the pursuit of nature walks, rides, and other activities a young lady might prefer to embroidery or crocheting lace. Georgina needed to get outside and into the fresh air. Three days of being forced indoors had left her in a less than easy mood, and although needlework had its place, she was profoundly sick of it.
Moving determinedly toward the clearing, she could see the target that the gamekeeper, Mr. Alberts, had set up for her as she’d requested. The bows and extra equipment would also be ready for her. The gruff gamekeeper had always been kind to Georgina, doing little favors for her way back when she was small even, when he knew she would like it. She appreciated his efforts, for she knew Mr. Alberts to be very busy with the shooting going on. More than once, he’d lured Lord Pellton away when the man had come trailing after her during house parties like this one. Georgina made a note to procure some of the special tobacco he liked for his pipe.
She threw up her hand to shield herself when a pheasant flew out from the underbrush right in front of her. The start made her heart pound. She hoped the men wouldn’t venture in this direction for the hunt. Surely this little glade was far enough away from the birding going on that she wouldn’t be bothered. It abutted a ring of sycamore which melted into light forest beyond it and was one of Georgina’s favorite places to shoot her bow. But what if all the birds had fled to this quieter sanctuary and the hunters decided to follow? It would not be safe here in the glade if they did.
Georgina shrugged and continued further on the path, rationalizing that Mr. Alberts would remember she had arranged to come here and could warn the shooters off if they decided to come this way.
A flash of gold flickered in movement directly ahead at her ultimate destination of target shooting. She heard the whoosh of an arrow splitting the air. Georgina realized that she was not alone, and for the second time, started, freezing in step. She felt every thump of her heart, clamoring deep inside her chest, and hated the fact that every stray sound or movement made her jump like a mouse. Now. Would she be like this for the rest of her life?
