Page 78 of Why Do Rogues Fall in Love?

His gaze flickered toward the house. “And Lady Katherine?”

“She is resting.”

“Ah.”

Cordelia lifted her chin. “I assure you, I am quite capable of taking a walk without requiring my sister to observe every step.”

“I have never doubted your capabilities.”

“Then you will show me the animals?”

He regarded her for a moment, amusement softening his expression. “With pleasure.”

CHAPTER 19

George offered his arm, then glanced at her with a gleam of amusement in his eyes. “Ah, I see you have decided to place your trust in my gentlemanly restraint.”

Cordelia gasped softly, realizing with a start that she had left her rapier behind. How had she managed to forget the very weapon she had brought to defend herself against his rakish charms? She lifted her gaze to his, prepared to deliver a tart rejoinder, but the words died upon her lips when she saw the unmistakable desire in his gaze.

Heat unfurled low in her belly, and to her utter mortification, the intimate place he had so scandalously taught her to call her pussy began to ache with a longing so immediate that she was almost tempted to press her thighs tightly together in the hope of quieting it. Good heavens, how could one look from the wretched man affect her so profoundly? Would the mere sight of desire in his eyes forever summon the memory of his hands and mouth upon her body, of pleasures so astonishing that her skin seemed incapable of forgetting them?

She blushed and hastily averted her gaze, though she suspected the knowing amusement that lingered about his mouth meant he had already guessed the direction of her thoughts.

“I have decided,” she said with as much dignity as she could summon, “that my sister’s presence ought to be sufficient protection against your less gentlemanly inclinations.”

“Then I shall endeavor not to disappoint either of you,” he drawled, sounding altogether too amused for her peace of mind.

Cordelia gave him a look of considerable skepticism before slipping her hand into the crook of his arm, and together they began walking across the lawns. For several minutes, she was content simply to admire the beauty surrounding them. The gardens were exquisite, with roses blooming in carefully tended beds and gravel paths winding beneath the shade of enormous trees. Birds sang overhead, and every so often, a dog would emerge from some unexpected corner of the estate to greet George with unmistakable delight. He seemed to know them all, and judging by the enthusiasm with which they approached him, they certainly knew him.

“Do they all belong to you?” she asked, indicating the animals scattered across the lawns.

“In a manner of speaking. Some have been here for years, while others arrived quite recently.”

Recalling his words to her sister about rescuing bears and lions, she asked, “Were they gifts?”

His gaze followed a large, shaggy dog ambling beneath the trees. “Most were brought here because they had nowhere else to go. Some were injured, others abandoned, and a few had owners who could no longer care for them.”

Cordelia paused, watching two dogs tumble playfully across the grass. She turned and lifted her gaze to his, her curiosity deepening. “You took in all of them?”

“I have always found it difficult to turn away an animal that has suffered through no fault of its own, particularly when I possess the means to make its circumstances better.”

Something warm and unexpectedly tender stirred in Cordelia’s chest. “And so you give them a home.”

“I try to give them a place where they need not be afraid.”

He spoke simply, without suggesting he considered his generosity remarkable. She looked again at the animals wandering so contentedly about the grounds. Until that moment, she had admired the beauty of the scene without considering what it meant that so many creatures had found sanctuary here. “You must have a great many people helping you care for them.”

“Quite a few. Their comfort requires more attention than I could possibly provide alone, though I try to know each of them. They are rather particular about such matters,” he continued, glancing toward the ginger cat upon the stone wall who meowed in greeting to him. “I provide the food, the shelter, and whatever comforts they require, yet I suspect several of them regard me as little more than an unusually obliging servant.”

Cordelia chuckled as she watched the ginger cat stretch luxuriously in the sunshine before settling once more upon its chosen perch. “I want to meet all of them, something that might take hours, but I am quite prepared for the challenge!”

“I thought you might,” he said with a low laugh. “We also have tomorrow.”

A small terrier came racing toward them, barking excitedly. George crouched and scratched the creature behind its ears. “Good afternoon, Pippin. Have you been behaving yourself?”

The terrier wagged its tail with such vigor that its entire body seemed to tremble.

She smiled. “He looks very pleased to see you.”