Page 2 of Scandal With A Viscount

Thea pulled her into an embrace before Wes could reply. “Thank God you're here. I know you will be up for a bit of mischief with me.”

Thea wasn’t what society expected a duchess to be. But based on the way Wesley beamed with nothing but love for her, his wife could do no wrong in his eyes.

The duchess linked her arm through Georgie's and steered her toward the door, leaving Wes to manage her mother. “I decided we won’t have a rigid schedule for the entertainment this fortnight. Each night there will be cards and gambling after dinner. If the men insist on being tedious about it, we’ll have a shooting party tomorrow. Beyond that, I think we’ll just see what entertainment everyone prefers.”

“You're my favorite hostess.”

“Please be sure to tell my mother and Wesley’s that, if you please.” Thea dropped her voice as they crossed the front hall. “I expect there will be a bit of room hopping, too. Not that I am one to judge. We’ll have to place side wagers on who. My money is for sure on Louis taking up with one of the widows who will be in attendance.”

Her pulse jumped. She kept her expression even. “That sounds like Louis.”

Her words were sharper than she intended.

“This is going to be so much fun.” Thea's eyes held a warmth indicating she had noticed the irritation in Georgie’s tone, but she didn't press. That was Thea—she noticed everything and pushed nothing, which Georgie appreciated. “Your room's the blue one at the end of the guest wing. I put you as far from your mother as the house allows. I thought you deserved a bit of respite while you are here.”

“I owe you my life.”

“Not yet, but maybe after several nights of losing to me at cards.”

Thea squeezed her arm and disappeared down the corridor toward the sound of voices, leaving Georgie at the base of the staircase. She found her room—bright, overlooking the gardens—and shed her pelisse and traveling gloves. She quickly checked her appearance and then retrieved the missive from her pocket.

She could send it with a servant, but it was the perfect excuse to speak with Louis.

Georgie went in search of him to deliver the missive. He wasn’t among the guests in the parlor. She crossed to the glass doors at the far end of the room and stepped onto the terrace.

He was leaning against the stone balustrade with his back to her, one ankle crossed over the other, a glass of something amber in his hand. His coat was perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders and his breeches showed off his muscular thighs.

“Louis.”

He turned, and there it was—that smile. The lopsided grin and strong jaw that rendered every woman unable to think in his presence.

“Georgie.” He pushed off the balustrade and faced her, warmth in his is mischievous blue eyes. He was even more handsome with his brown hair tousled by the wind. “I was wondering when you and Max might arrive.”

“Max will join us later.” She pulled the letter from her pocket and held it out. “He sent me with this for you.”

Louis took it, turning the sealed paper over in his fingers. He tucked the letter into his coat without opening it. “I'll read it later. It's good to see you, Georgie. It's been too long, hasn’t it?”

“I think the last time was when you came to stay with Max for a week and the pair of you drank yourselves to absurdity.”

He wrinkled his nose at the memory. “That was entirely your brother’s doing.”

“Ah, so you lost a foolish wager with my brother.” She really shouldn’t keep bringing Max into the conversation. Not that he could forget Max was her older brother, but still. If she wanted to get him to visit her chamber late at night for a dalliance, avoiding the topic was surely to be the better course.

“I didn't lose. I never lose. Unless I play Thea at cards, anyway.” He tipped his glass.

“Is that so?” This was her chance. “And how do you think your chances fare against me?”

His brows lifted. “Against you?”

“Thea has promised cards after dinner every evening. I propose a wager. You and me, over the course of the fortnight. Whoever wins the most games also wins our little wager.”

He cast her a mischievous grin. “And what exactly shall we wager?”

“A dare. The winner gets to dare the loser to do one thing. Anything.” She held his gaze and did not blink. “No refusals.”

Louis studied her for a long moment. The grin was still there, and then he brought his fingers to his chin in a show of mock contemplation. “Anything could be quite dangerous, Georgie.”

“Only if you lose.”