Georgiaβs gaze lingered on him innocently, and yet Will was
certain there was more to what she was saying. And perhaps
she wasnβt quite as innocent as Marsdale would have him
believe. βPerhaps you can tutor me in the ways I might
capture his attention?β
She circled him, never removing her gaze from him. What
exactly was she asking? βIβm not quite sure what you mean,
Miss Duvall, but rest assured Iβm here to help. I found the
perfect match for my sister, and Iβll do the same for you.β
βYes, I understand, my lord. So Iβm wondering how to pique
his interest. Can you answer that question, or should I ask
Oliver?β
He swallowed and narrowed his gaze. βNo, no need to ask
Oliver. You could talk to the gentleman about the weather,
or ask after his health, or maybe you can ask if he...β Will
wasnβt sure what to say. Maybe he wasnβt up to the task of
procuring a match for someone other than his sister, after
all, because the way she looked at him seemed to spell
trouble. βIf he has hounds, perhaps?β
She blinked several times, eyeing him oddly.
Everything about her said she was an innocent maid, but she
was American. Maybe women were different there, and he just
wasnβt used to their behavior. Most womenβno not most,
no womenβwho were young and unmarried ever held his
gaze so long with such keen challenge punctuating a
seemingly guileless question.
Stopping directly in front of him, she peered up at him,
standing inappropriately close. βIβm to ask him if he has
hounds?β
βYes, you could,β he blurted, then cleared his throat. He
took a step back, but he didnβt want her to know she
confused him, so he rounded the corner of the table instead.
βI was thinking more along the lines of flirting.β Her
delicate brow arched. βHow do I flirt with himβthat is how I
want to capture his attention.β
He gulped. βThat wasnβt what I had in mind. I donβt think
itβs what Oliver had in mind either. Maybe we should sit
down?β He gestured toward the damask-covered sofa and
matching wingback chair. Even if she didnβt need to sit
down, he did.