Her gaze drifted from Norcross—who was yammering on about the banns having been read for him and Clarissa for the first time yesterday—across the room and rested on him. He could tell the moment she realized he was looking back, as twin spots of color bloomed on her cheeks.
Pray tell, what about him caused her to blush? Was she remembering the moments they sang together, just the two of them, as though alone in the room? It had only lasted a few seconds, just two measures, but those seconds and sounds were imprinted on him forever. How their voices had blended in perfect harmony.
She lowered her gaze, the corners of her mouth tilting up the tiniest bit as though she was repressing a smile. Why would she hold back a smile from him? He wanted to see her smile, to know that she felt confident and safe. That she had no lingering fears from her encounter with Sir Rupert. That his efforts had been worthwhile.
A footman entered to inform him and Liam that their horses were ready.
David joined the group by the tea tray. “Miss Hamlin, is your uncle coming to fetch you, or is Mansfield escorting you home?”
Before she could reply, Georgia tucked her arm through Miss Hamlin’s in a possessive grip. “Neither!” Georgia declared with the giddiness of a child at Christmas. “She is to be my guest for the night, and we’re going to have ever so much fun!”
Miss Hamlin appeared a little less giddy than Georgia but happy nonetheless.
“Then I bid you good evening.” David raised Miss Hamlin’s hand and kissed her knuckles. He had to shake his head a little to get the hair from his eyes when he straightened, and after he had done so realized that she was looking directly at him. Not at their still joined hands, nor a coy glance and then look away. Extended eye to eye contact as though she could see right through him. It could have been unnerving, except she appeared pleased by what she saw.
He returned her smile with an intimate one of his own, and let go of her hand before they drew attention to themselves. He and Liam bid everyone else good night and departed.
* * *
Upstairs in Georgia’s bedchamber, Ashley quietly checked with her maid that she’d been given comfortable accommodations for the night.
“Yes, miss,” Sally replied just as quietly. “It’s as nice as my room at Mr. Endicott’s house.”
Georgia sailed into the room on the heels of her maid, who was bearing a tray with covered dishes and a pitcher of lemonade. “If you’ll help me with my dress,” Georgia said, “I’ll help you with yours, and we can dismiss our maids and let them have a little fun tonight, too.”
Ashley readily agreed. Both maids curtsied and left with a covered dish of their own.
“Oh, I almost forgot to feed Robin,” Georgia said, taking a paper twist off the tray. She pulled the stool from the dressing table over in front of the window, hiked up her skirts, and climbed up.
Only now did Ashley notice the large birdcage suspended on a chain from the ceiling, dangling well back from the window. As she watched, Georgia opened the cage and withdrew a wriggling worm from the twist of paper.
“Look, Robin!” she cooed, dangling the worm in front of a robin sitting on one of several perches. “John Footman found you a nice, juicy worm tonight!”
The bird chirped and fluttered its wings, and flew down to eat the worm Georgia set in a dish. While the bird was eating, Georgia refilled a little bowl of water before adjusting some of the branches that led up to perches.
“Eat up, my sweet,” she murmured, stroking the bird’s head with one fingertip, before she closed the cage and moved the stool back to the dressing table.
The bird chirped several times and hopped up one of the branches before settling on another perch. From this angle, Ashley now saw the bird had only one wing. The other was a tiny stump.
Her chore done, Georgia and Ashley quickly changed into their night rails and wrappers.
Realizing they were alone except for the bird, Ashley asked, “Does your dog sleep in your room?”
“Tuffy prefers to spend nights in the nursery, guarding the children. He thinks he’s a Mastiff.” She chuckled.
Ashley reached to pull the pins from her hair but stopped when she saw the wistful look on Georgia’s face. “What is it?”
“You will think me silly, but…”
“But what?”
Georgia bit her bottom lip, and then blurted out, “Clarissa and I used to brush out each other’s hair every night before she became betrothed, and … and I miss it. I was wondering if you would mind if…”
“No, you’re not silly, and I would not mind at all.” Ashley tried not to get choked up at this latest example of Georgia treating her like a sister. “Shall I brush yours first?”
Georgia gave her a slight push until Ashley sat on the stool in front of the dressing table mirror. “I guess I have my answer.” She and Georgia shared a smile in the mirror. Georgia removed the pins and strand of pearls from Ashley’s hair and began to brush.
“My mother used to brush my hair on some nights.” Ashley let her head fall forward, relaxing under Georgia’s ministrations. The younger girl wielded the brush in long, gentle strokes, careful not to pull when she encountered knots. “Often it was because she wanted to have an awkward conversation with me.”
