Page 26 of Lyon of Least Resistance

She tilted her head to one side. “Have you decided, yet?”

“Decided?”

“On what gift to purchase to win your rich bride.”

“No.”

“I must say, it’s a rather odd thing to do—win a bride by presenting her with a gift. Whose idea was it? One of your London friends, I suppose.”

James’s cheeks warmed. At all costs, Georgiana must not learn about his visits to the most notorious gaming hall in London—where he’d lain with doxy and was returning to vie for a bride of doubtful reputation. Fortunately, Georgiana was too occupied in her own thoughts to take any notice of his.

“You haven’t much time to choose your gift,” she said.

“A little under a week, Georgiana. That’s plenty of time.”

“Not if you want to find something worthy of a lady. You’ll hardly find it hereabouts. I’d advise you to return to London and make your purchase there.”

“Purchase what?”

She gestured to her throat. “All ladies like a necklace. With diamonds, of course, and…”

She glanced over her shoulder and huffed.

“For heaven’s sake, Margaret! Can’t you leave me alone for more than a minute? Go and”—she made a dismissive gesture—“oh, I don’t know…climb one of your wretched trees. Better still, jump into the lake!”

James’s younger sister approached at a run. Her hair had already worked loose and her cheeks were red with exertion. She reached them and stopped, panting, then pulled a face. “I’d rather push you into the lake, Georgie. The cold might do you good. Better still if it ruins your dress—it might make you realize that, beneath your pretty gowns, you’re no better than me.”

“There’s little point in your having a pretty gown, given that within five minutes of wearing it you’ll have mud splatters all over it, soup spilled down the front, and a torn hem,” Georgiana huffed. “I only hope James’s new bride won’t take one look at you and run screaming back to London.”

“There’s no guarantee I’ll win,” James said.

“You will if you heed my advice,” Georgiana said. “Buy her a necklace. The most expensive one you can find.”

Sunlight illuminated the garden as the clouds, which had been hidden behind the sun all day, moved aside. The roses seemed to shimmer with color and James drew in a lungful of air.

Was there anywhere more beautiful than here? If he won the bride, would she love the garden as much as he?

“Oh no!” Georgiana cried, shielding her eyes from the sun. “I must return inside.”

“What for?” Margaret said. “The sun’s just come out.”

“I’ve not brought my parasol. Heslop’s disappeared, so I can’t ask him to fetch it for me. Most inconvenient of him.”

“Ooh, how dare he!” Margaret cried, a glint of wickedness in her eyes.

“Every lady knows that the sun will ruin her complexion,” Georgiana said. “Though I daresay that won’t concern you—you’re already tanned, and your face is covered in freckles.”

“I like my freckles,” Margaret said. “And you have an enormous spot on your nose that no amount of powder can cover. It looks like a great red beacon! What do you say to that?”

Georgiana set her mouth into a firm line.

“Nothing,” she said. “I know you wish to rile me, but I’ll not dignify your nonsense with a response.”

Then she turned and strode back toward the house.

“You shouldn’t tease your sister, little ferret,” James said with a sigh. “You know she speaks sense.”

“Oh, poo!” Margaret said, pulling a face. “You don’t believe that any more than I. And you wouldn’t want to marry a fine lady who’ll plague you in a sharp voice with demands for fine gowns, demand I sit up straight all the time, punish me if I don’t, and prohibit me from having any fun at all.”