After handing a goblet to Gavin, Littleton lowered himself into the opposite chair. “Adeline and I discussed what should be done if you came.” He took a drink of wine. When he lowered it, his countenance reminded Gavin strongly of the old Lord Littleton just before he began a lecture. “Until such time as you and Georgie work out what you are going to do, you cannot stay at Littlewood.”
Gavin was tempted to drain the glass, but contented himself with twisting the goblet around. “Your mother offered to give me a room at her house.”
Littleton nodded. “You will be allowed free run. As long as you are not residing here, Georgie will be able to see you or not as she wishes.”
That might work. Gavin sipped his claret. “How much freedom will I have?”
“You may take your meals here, if you like.” His friend stared at him consideringly. “I suggest strongly that you begin anew with Georgie. I cannot agree with your stand that you will not fall in love. If you continue in that vein, you might never convince her to marry you. But Adeline and I agreed to allow you a second chance to make Georgie want to spend her life with you.” Frits finished his wine and set it on a sturdy walnut side table. “There are three rules you must follow. You may not under any circumstances compromise her.” Gavin nodded. He hoped he would not have considered that option. But when a man becomes desperate . . . “And you may not follow her around like a puppy. If she does not wish to see you, you are to take yourself off.”
He inclined his head in assent. He doubted his pride would allow him to behave in that manner, but one never knew. “You will address any written invitations or other correspondence you wish to send Miss Georgie to me.” Gavin had thought—had hoped—there might be a little relaxing of propriety, but apparently not. When he didn’t answer, Frits continued, “For the time she is here, Adeline and I are responsible for her. We intend to do our duty. Neither of us will be put in the position of having to explain to her parents any sort of misfortune she may experience.”
He had a point. If it was Gavin’s daughter, he would expect the same. Suddenly he had a vision of a little girl with dark chestnut curls and blue eyes. “I understand you. For the purposes of this courtship, I shall treat you as her guardian.”
“In that case, we will not have any problems.” Littleton’s tone was solemn. Still, Gavin was a bit surprised that the man’s ready smile was nowhere to be seen. He really was taking his responsibilities seriously. “Lady Turner and Mrs. Fitzwalter are hosting a house party. We will obtain invitations for you to the events which we are attending.”
“Thank you.” And thank the Lord for good friends.
“I wish you luck.” Littleton finally grinned. “I have a feeling you might need it.”
“I have a feeling you might be correct.” Georgie had acted as if Gavin was not present when he walked out to greet them. He finished his wine. “Time to beard the lioness.”
“I would make that plural,” Littleton said as he rose. “Adeline is very fierce when it comes to her friends. Much as she will be with our children.”
Thinking about his conversation with Miss Stern, Gavin grimaced. “They all are.”
Frits and Gavin made their way back to the hall and to the morning room on the other side of the house. They arrived to find the doors to the terrace open and light female laughter floating in from outside. He stood in the doorway and watched as Georgie laughed at something Lady Littleton—the dowager—said. The woman he hoped to make his wife was dressed in a light yellow muslin gown that appeared to float around her as she sat in a chair. She had never looked more beautiful or more desirable.
