Page 14 of Scandal’s Daughter

“I think perhaps I have reached my limit for forgiveness for one day,” she replied, ensuring that he heard the teasing note in her voice.

He nodded. “I don’t doubt it. I can’t imagine what you must think of me,” he glanced sideways at her and smiled, and that sweet, boyish smile that seemed to be terribly rare stole her breath.

Georgiana didn’t move but returned her gaze to look out across the meadow. She felt his hand slide from her wrist to her hand as his fingers laced through hers. They sat like that for a little while, silently watching leaves as they fell, fluttering to the ground, only to be swept up again and set upon a different path.

“You like Byron?” she asked in the end, as it appeared she didn’t have the will to walk away from him and searched for something to break the silence that seemed to grow more intense with every passing moment.

He turned to her, a slight frown over his eyes.

“The quote, from When We Two Parted ... it’s Byron,” she added.

Smiling, he shrugged. “I like some of them, the ones that feel real to me.”

“Oh?” she asked, curious as to what he meant.

“The ones where I feel he’s speaking of himself,” he said, his eyes searching hers. “And you, I take it you are an admirer ...” He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Conrad,” he said, snorting with amusement.

Georgiana flushed a little as her dog, hearing his name called, ran back to them to see if his presence was required. She patted the squirming hound, making a fuss of him before she dared to look back at the man beside her. As expected, he was obviously amused.

“You are laughing at me,” she replied with a huff.

“No, no,” he replied, choking a little before giving up and laughing out loud.

Giving an offended sniff she looked away from him. “I take it The Corsair isn’t one of your favourites.”

He didn’t bother to hide his obvious disgust. “It is undoubtedly his most ridiculous poem.”

“It is not!” she returned, looking at him in astonishment. “It is ... it’s all adventure and romance and ...’

‘Piffle,” he interjected with a sad shake of his head. He grinned at her, obviously unmoved by her pouting. “Before you even begin the title is all wrong. Conrad doesn’t work for any government, he has no letter of marque, therefore he’s a pirate, not a corsair. You’d think he could have at least done his homework.”

“Oh!” she fumed. “That is so like a man. You clearly have no soul, or at least no heart or the slightest idea about romance ...”

She realised her mistake before she’d reached the end of the sentence and felt perhaps, she should pick up her skirts and run.

Only knowing what she ought to do and actually doing it, seemed to be something she was entirely unable to accomplish. So, she looked up into a pair of darkening eyes and awaited her fate.