Page 5 of The Mistletoe Dare

“Louis!” Evie exclaimed in a whisper, making as if she would run across the room to him.

Shocked, Georgie held on to her, giving her a warning glance. Evie coloured, but gave a small nod, and they moved sedately towards him. The man’s gaze followed Evie as she came closer, full of amusement.

“Bonne soirée, ma petite,” he said to Evie, the words spoken quietly enough that only she and Georgie could hear the far too familiar greeting.

Georgie shivered as the sound of his deep voice swept over her. Good heavens, the Comte de Villen was everything everyone had said about him.

His azure gaze swept over Evie, and a slight frown creased his brow. “Are you well, Miss Knight?”

“Of course,” Evie said, beaming at him. “All the better for seeing you, you dreadful man. Where have you been? It’s been months.”

Before the comte could answer, the butler appeared and announced that dinner was ready. Evie sighed in frustration, narrowing her eyes at the comte.

“Don’t think you’ve escaped,” she warned him. “I want to know everything you’ve been up to.”

The man’s lips twitched, but he replied with apparent sincerity. “Oui, Mademoiselle. I know you do.”

“Oh, Lou—Monsieur Le Comte, please allow me to introduce my dear friend, Lady Georgina Anderson. Georgie, this is Louis César de Montluc, Comte de Villen.”

“Enchantée,” he said, bowing over her hand. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady.”

Georgie blushed and curtsied, quite unable to withstand his proximity, those blue eyes and that devastating French accent all at once. She could not think of a single intelligent thing to say, so for once she was sensible and kept her mouth shut.

“You here again, Georgie?”

George turned at the familiar voice and grinned at Jules. “Good evening, Jules, and yes, like the proverbial bad penny, I’ve turned up again.”

“Good show. It’s been too dashed quiet here of late, since my two dreadful sisters have married and left home. We need someone to cause a bit of chaos, liven things up a bit.”

Georgie glared at him, wishing she could kick the devil for speaking so. Embarrassed, she shot a nervous smile at the comte. “He’s only funning, monsieur. The marquess has a remarkably peculiar sense of humour,” she assured him, before the man thought she was an ill-mannered hoyden.

“No, I don’t. You always liven things up by doing something dreadful, you know you do,” Jules protested.

“Be quiet,” she gritted out through her teeth, before turning back to the comte, and Evie, who was struggling not to laugh, well aware of Georgie’s mortification.

“May I have the honour, Miss Knight?” the comte asked Evie, offering his arm to take her into dinner.

“You may,” Evie replied, her cheeks dimpling as she smiled up at him.

“Well then, looks like you’re stuck with me, George, old girl,” Jules said, smirking at her. He stuck his elbow out at her and Georgie sighed, taking it as there were no better options.

“I’d forgotten how annoying you were,” she grumbled as Jules led her through to the dining room.

“Funny, that’s what my sisters say whenever they come back to visit,” he remarked, winking at her.

Georgie rolled her eyes and then noticed ahead of them that the ill-mannered duke she’d encountered was escorting Aunt Prue.

“Who is that awful man, Jules?” she demanded.

Jules laughed as he saw who she was gesturing towards. “The Duke of Rochford, and he’s an ill-tempered devil, I’ll grant you, though not as dreadful as he makes out.”

“I beg to differ,” she muttered crossly.

Jules gave her an alert look. “You know him?”

“No, but I ran into him in the library earlier and he was horribly rude to me.”

“Why? What did you do?”