The Viscount's Veiled Lady (Whitby Weddings 3)

‘Master George, then. How do you do, young man?’

‘I’m very well, sir.’ Georgie opened up his fist to reveal the squashed remnants of his lemon bun. ‘Would you like some?’

‘That’s very kind of you, Georgie,’ Frances interceded tactfully, ‘but you finish yours. Lord Scorborough can share some of mine if he wants.’

‘All right.’ The little boy rammed the last piece into his mouth and clambered happily to his feet. ‘Can I build a sandcastle now?’

‘Yes, but remember I like my castles to have at least three turrets and a moat!’

‘Yes, Aunt Frances!’

She let her smile fade as he scurried away, acutely aware of Arthur still crouching in front of her. Was he looking at her? She couldn’t tell. She was only conscious of the silence between them lengthening awkwardly.

‘He seems like a nice boy.’ Arthur spoke at last.

‘He is.’ She peered sideways, relenting slightly. ‘Thank you for being kind to him.’

‘Did you think that I wouldn’t be?’

‘No, but under the circumstances...’

‘He’s a child.’

‘He’s Lydia’s child,’ she answered significantly, ‘and very dear to me.’

‘Meaning that we couldn’t be friends if I wasn’t kind to him?’

‘No, we couldn’t, but then we aren’t friends, are we?’

‘We used to be. Maybe we could be again.’

She twisted her head to look straight at him that time, too shocked to make any attempt to conceal it.

‘Is the idea so appalling?’ His stern expression was back, even sterner than ever.

‘Not appalling, no...’ she chose her words carefully ‘...but surprising. The other night you only wanted to get rid of me.’

He grimaced. ‘I wasn’t trying to get rid of you, although I admit it must have seemed that way. The truth is that I don’t find it easy to talk about my past, Miss Webster, and the conversation was hitting too close to home. However, that’s still no excuse for ill manners. I was rude and abrupt and I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that I ought to apologise. In fact, I believe that I’m banished from Violet’s company until I do. So...’ he spread his hands wide ‘...please accept my apology.’

She held his gaze for a long, drawn-out moment. He’d come across the beach to apologise and he seemed sincere...and he’d been nice to Georgie... Could they be friends again? She didn’t know about that, but she could forgive him.

‘It’s all right. I shouldn’t have mentioned what happened.’

‘No, I shouldn’t have been so sensitive. You have every right to resent me for being rude. I only hope that you’ll give me another chance.’

‘I don’t resent you.’

‘And the second chance?’

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘Fair enough.’ He gestured towards the lemon bun in her hand. ‘Now that’s settled, are you going to offer me some of that or not? I believe you told your nephew that you’d share.’

She narrowed her eyes and tore off a chunk. ‘A piece, but that’s all. We’re still acquaintances more than anything else.’

‘Well, if that’s the most I can hope for... May I?’ He dropped down on to Georgie’s empty space on the blanket before she could answer. ‘Although you might call me Arthur. You used to.’