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Oh God, Rufus thought, the fragile tea cup rattling in his hand, don’t go there. Averil on the bed, half-naked, her hair wild around her, her lips parted as he . . .
“More tea?” She was smiling innocently at him and he pulled himself together.
“Thank you.”
He handed the cup to her and she topped it up. He noticed she kept her fingers well away from his but all the same he managed to brush them lightly with his fingertips. She blushed.
Such innocence. Was he really planning to marry this sweet young woman? Could he really do something so dastardly?
“Eustace told me about Mrs. Slater.”
Rufus stared. Suddenly he felt completely sober. “He told you?” he said. “He never tells anyone.”
“Well, he told me,” she said, and he could see the fury in her eyes, in her face. A Valkyrie, that was what she was. Forget the sweet innocent. Averil was a Viking maiden going to war.
“Averil—”
“I was so angry. You have no idea. But I thought it was better to be calm, so I pretended. I told him that most nannies are lovely and Mrs. Slater must have been an-an aberration. Well, something like that.” She leaned closer and he could see the swell of her bosom beneath her floral dress, the dip at the base of her throat where he’d like to put his tongue. “Do you think that was the right thing to do?”
“Yes, yes, I do. He rarely talks about it. As you can imagine, it was a dreadful situation, and he is yet to recover his confidence. That woman said things to him that knocked him down. I hope we are slowly building him back up. He should be at school but, well, I thought it best to leave it until next year.”
“He’s a dear.”
Rufus knew he had a silly grin on his face. “Don’t let him hear you say that. He thinks he’s tough as old boots.”
Averil hesitated, biting her lip. Rufus stifled a groan.
“He seems lonely. If you don’t mind me saying so.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, dropping his voice. They were very close now. He could see her gray eyes had golden flecks in them, and there was a tiny mole on her temple, near her hairline. “He is lonely I suppose, but there’s not much to be done about it. At home, at Southbrook, he has friends. People are not so judgmental there,” he added.
“Oh, I see.”
He was going to kiss her.
“Pardon me if this is private, but won’t Eustace need to be part of London society one day? When he is earl? W
ouldn’t it help him if you were to return to society yourself, Lord Southbrook?”
Rufus blinked. He didn’t know whether to laugh or roar with frustration. The wretched woman was trying to save him! Of course, he should have realized. The dog, the Home for Distressed Women, Eustace . . . and probably plenty of other lost animals and strays Averil had “saved” over the years.
Well, she wasn’t going to save him, unless . . . Rufus felt the anger drain out of him. Unless she decided to give him her fortune, there was that, of course.
“I fear I am a lost cause,” he said quietly, watching her. “No hostess would invite me into her salon, dear Averil.”
Now was her chance to simper and tell him she would help him to regain his lost position among the elite. Once again Averil surprised him.
“Not even for the sake of your son?” she said in a sharp voice.
The Valkyrie was back again. And then it seemed to occur to her how ridiculous their argument was, because she gave a breathless laugh.
“Forgive me,” she said, reaching to place her hand on his. “I am rather too interfering at times, so Beth tells me. I’m sure you are perfectly capable of doing what must be done for your son.”
He turned his hand over so that their fingers clasped. She looked a little startled but didn’t pull away. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed first her palm and then each of her fingertips.
“Oh,” she breathed.
Outside Hercules was barking at the cat next door, which was sitting on the high stone wall, taunting him with its inaccessibility.
