Improperly Wed (Aristocratic Grooms 3)

Colin gave him a small nod. “If you would be so kind as to assist this lovely lady inside with her purchase?”

“Yes, of course, my lord.”

“Excellent.”

Belinda waited beside Colin as the older woman and the store employee moved off and then turned back with him to their car.

Colin spoke first. “Thank you for accepting an invitation to tea.”

“You’re welcome,” Belinda responded tongue-in-cheek. “Except she didn’t get your address.”

“I’m sure a few inquiries will yield my coordinates at Halstead Hall.”

“How often have you done that?”

“What?”

She waved a hand back toward where they had come. “You know, that.”

“It happens from time to time.”

“It was a rather nice thing to do,” she allowed. “Rather classy to not immediately correct her misimpression but just offer your assistance.”

She tried hard not to feel charmed, but still felt herself slipping.

“She called me young man,” Colin remarked as he walked beside her. “I suppose it’s all a matter of perspective, but still it’s worth a few points in my book.”

“It’s no more than you deserve,” she scolded with mock humor, “for taking a trip to the supermarket dressed so unassumingly that you might be mistaken for anyone.”

“Would you prefer I wear a pin declaring me a lord? Or better yet, a Granville?”

“Please.”

Colin gave an uneven grin. “I suppose it would be easier than facing the awful possibility that not all Granvilles are died-in-the-wool villains.”

They reached their car, and Colin pulled open the passenger door for her.

Belinda glanced up at him but found her gaze skittering away again. They were getting into uncomfortably deep waters.

“Now, about that tip that you owe a certain good-looking store employee…”

There was laughter in Colin’s voice, and it brushed tantalizingly across her skin as he let her pull the car door closed.

From the doorway, Colin watched Belinda exchange smiles with his cousin’s nine-year-old daughter.

Daphne was standing before an easel, and Belinda was encouraging the girl, as well as pointing out a few ways to deepen the painting.

The empty playroom next door to what traditionally functioned as the nursery, on the third floor of the house, had been turned into a painting studio and an arts-and-crafts room. Canvas covered the wood floor, and the curtain-free windows offered an unobstructed path for the morning sunlight.

A half-dozen children moved about. Everyone wore paint-smeared smocks over casual clothes and sneakers or clogs. Some retrieved art supplies and others stood intently before easels. One child was the ten-year-old daughter of his stable manager, and another was the housekeeper’s grandson. There was also Daphne’s seven-year-old younger sister, Emily.

Belinda had suggested setting up an art playroom once she’d heard there were definitely children in his extended family and among the family of the staff. The art classes had been a big hit. At least those Granvilles below the age of twelve had taken to Belinda naturally. And Sophie had admitted to spending some time in the art room working with the kids alongside Belinda.

Colin thrust his hands into his pockets. Belinda’s guard was down, probably because she hadn’t yet noticed his appearance in the open doorway.

He took the opportunity to study her.

Similar to the kids, she was dressed down in jeans and a pullover lavender top. The jeans showed off a pert rear end, though her smock obscured the rest of what Colin knew to be a delicious figure. Her hair was caught back loosely, but tendrils escaped to caress and frame her face.