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Bess followed her and touched her hand. “Don’t worry about this, Donna, I do so like him a great deal, and I see that there is more to him than the reputation he has so enjoyed, and I have a plan.”
The morning room door opened wide, and Robby, his hair windblown, his grin wide, strode into the room and jovially announced, “You will never credit it, but of all things, there is a carnival!”
Momentarily diverted, the girls in unison repeated, “A carnival?”
“Where?” Bess demanded excitedly.
“Not more than five miles from here. Where is Dunkirk?”
“How do you know, Robby?” his wife asked as she went to him.
“Had it from Fleetwood,” he answered happily.
“Fleet?” Bess asked in surprise. “How could you have it from Fleet?”
“Why couldn’t he have it from me?” said a voice from the open doorway.
“Fleet!” Bess exclaimed in high glee as she skipped towards him and held his lapels. “You are here, you silly boy. What are you doing here?”
“Well,” admonished Sir George Fleetwood, “what sort of greeting is that?” He slid an arm around her waist and hugged her to him amiably. “Thought you might be happy to see me, pet, and all you can do is call me a ‘silly boy’?”
She giggled happily and, still in his hold, got on tiptoe to plant an affectionate kiss on his fair cheek. “There. I am happy to see you, but that doesn’t answer my question.” She was in fact surprised, because before she had left for Searington Fleet had warned her off the earl, advising her that he was a libertine. She hadn’t thought he even liked the earl.
The earl arrived at this moment, and Bess saw him out of the corner of her eye. He looked irritated, and she wondered what was wrong as he walked towards her and Fleet.
“Sir George,” the earl said in a friendly way of greeting, “welcome. When did you arrive, and to what do we owe this pleasure?”
“To answer you, my lord, I have only just arrived. Been invited to put up with friends not far from here. However, what really brings me to Searington,” he said simply, “is Bess. Missed her.”
Bess flushed and gently disengaged herself from Fleet’s hold. She felt the earl’s gaze on them and saw a dark annoyance in his eyes. She turned to her friend and reproved him in a merry voice, “Beast. You are not here to see me. As far as you knew, I was supposed to be on my way home with Papa today!”
“Ah, so you were,” Sir George returned, “but met your papa on the road. He said you were staying on a few days here.”
Bess laughed. “You are incorrigible, saying you are here because you missed me when you are only stopping by on your way to stay with frien
ds!”
He laughed and pinched her nose. She slapped his hand away, and they both laughed. She turned, found the earl looking stormy, and wondered at it. Was he jealous? Could he be jealous? No, how foolish to think he would be jealous of a boy like George. Anyone could see they were only friends; besides, what did he care? He didn’t.
A servant arrived with a tray of refreshments, and Bess laughed to see Robby’s face light up as he moved towards the tray exclaiming, “Hot buns! Look devilishly inviting.” He moved into position and began serving himself. Then he turned to his wife and asked with a show of a bun in the air if she required one. She laughed and shook her head.
“So tell us, Fleet, where exactly is this carnival?” Bess said as she began pouring and serving tea around to everyone.
“Indeed, you will like it, Bess. I don’t think we’ve been to a carnival in a couple of years,” he said, taking a cup from her and sitting on the sofa to pat a place beside himself for her.
She gave the earl his cup of tea and did, in fact, plop down beside her friend and agree, “Yes, oh yes, I should like it immensely.”
* * *
He felt a fool, jealous over a pup of a boy, but he always faced the facts, and the fact was that he was having to exercise control over himself in Lady Bess’s regard. He had never wanted to be the sort of man that tripped over himself in pursuit of a woman. He wasn’t that man and would not be that man—damnation! Was he that man?
He couldn’t deny the steam that filled his head when he had walked in to find Sir George’s arm possessively around Lady Bess’s lovely trim waist. He’d wanted to pick the lanky lad up and throw him out the window.
Nothing for it—he had to be honest with himself and admit that was how he felt.
He calmed himself. He knew that the two had been friends for years, and yet the pup had a look on his face when he stared at her—and Sir George did stare at her, every chance he got. No doubt the lad thought himself in love with her. How could he not be in love with her? She was everything any man could ever want in a woman. She was bright and saucy, kind-hearted and dear, beautiful of mind and exquisite of body.
And what of Lady Bess’s feelings in regards to the lad? She looked at Sir George with keen interest, that was certain, and he damn well dinna like it.
