Page 13 of Sinfully Daring

“My lady, I was not run––”

“Yes, you were. No excuses. I know your type,” she said, imperious as ever. Barnaby bit back a smile as Louis closed his mouth, enduring his scolding. “Balderston was just the same. Never had a family to speak of and didn’t know how to go on in the midst of so much affection and chaos, though he wanted to. Any fool could see that. You just need to accept it, you silly creature. They welcome you, they like you, let them do so.”

Rather to Barnaby’s surprise, Louis was staring into his teacup, looking very much like he was taking her words seriously instead of simply nodding and paying lip service, as he might have expected.

“The next time her grace offers an invitation, you will accept it.”

“Oh, steady on, Aunt,” Barnaby protested, chagrined to see his relative bossing his friend about like she’d the right to. “Leave Louis alone. He’s a grown man, and—”

“And grown men can behave like frightened children when offered anything resembling affection and care,” Aunt Hester said, her tone one he did not dare to counter a second time. She turned her steely gaze from him back to Louis. “Young man, you will accept the invitation.”

Louis nodded, though said nothing and Aunt Hester sat back in her chair, satisfied.

“Now then, I have received an invitation to Lady Montagu’s garden party. I should like you to escort me, Barnaby.”

“Yes, Aunt,” Barnaby replied, stifling a sigh.

“It’s to be a family affair, all the children in attendance. I take it you’ll bring that wicked girl of yours, monsieur?”

“Miss Agatha will probably murder me in my sleep if I do not,” Louis replied with a smile.

“Miss Agatha isn’t the least bit wicked,” Barnaby said indignantly. “Really, Aunt, that’s too much. You only met her the once too and she—”

Aunt Hester sighed and shot him an impatient glare. “It was a compliment, Barnaby, as the comte well understood. All the best girls are a little bit wicked; gives them character.”

“And you, my lady, are most certainly a wicked creature,” Louis said, laughing softly, his tone gently chiding.

Aunt Hester harrumphed but still looked pleased.

“Diabolical,” she muttered.

Barnaby frowned, feeling put upon until Louis turned to him, his blue eyes full of warmth. “Mon pauvre, Barnaby. I thank you for defending Miss Agatha, my friend. I am touched you should do so.”

“Oh, well, that’s all right,” he replied, mollified. “She’s a sweet girl. Credit to you.”

“A credit to Lady Eliza’s school and her own character,” Louis said, shaking his head. “I can accept no praise for it.”

“I suspect that is not true,” Hester said, her eyes eyeing the comte with interest. “Barnaby, run and fetch my shawl, there’s a dear. I left it in the library.”

Barnaby huffed. “Can’t you ring for a—” He closed his mouth at the look he was given and set his teacup down. “Right you are, then.”

Closing the door on Louis and his aunt, he looked about, trying to remember which direction the library was in when a door opened, and Lady Rosamund appeared.

“Mr Godwin, how do you do?”

“Jolly well, thank you, and you’re looking in prime twig today, if I might say so.”

Lady Rosamund laughed, her green eyes dancing. “You might, I thank you. Can I help you? You seem lost, not that it’s any wonder in this cavernous place.”

“If you would direct me to the library, I should be grateful. Aunt Hester has left her shawl and demands I fetch it for her.”

“I’d be happy to escort you,” she offered.

“That’s very good of you, if it’s no trouble.”

It wasn’t, she assured him, and led Barnaby through rooms of such grandeur that it was all he could do not to gape. The life of a duke differed significantly from that of a baron’s younger son, and no mistake.

“Lady Millicent asked after you,” she said, nearly making Barnaby trip over his own feet.