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impenetrable visage betraying no sign of his thoughts. His gray-green eyes were full of secrets, though she detected perhaps a fleeting shimmer of haunted pain in their depths.
    As he stood there watching her, his powerful arms folded across his chest, she indulged in a fleeting study of his proud, patrician face. Its rectangular shape and chiseled features bespoke dignified strength and authority: He had rather a high forehead, angular cheekbones, a fine, assertive sort of nose, and a square jaw. A wavy lock of his dark brown hair had tumbled forward over his left eyebrow in the fray, but perhaps her stare made him a bit self-conscious, for he tossed it out of his face with a boyish motion at odds with his commanding presence. His firm, sensuous mouth, bracketed by the manly grooves in his cheeks, still showed little sign of a smile.
    More intrigued than she liked to admit, Georgie looked away, slowly pulling the silken scarf off from around her neck, but she continued to survey him from the corner of her eye. She couldn’t seem to help herself.
    Nankeen breeches hugged his muscled thighs. A morning coat of muted green broadcloth, subtle-toned like forest shadows, molded the sweeping expanse of his shoulders; the shade accented the complex celadon hue of his eyes.
    But there was something else about him, a restless, hungry magnetism. A smoldering slow burn beneath his polished surface. It summoned up wayward thoughts in her mind of the erotic pleasures so vividly depicted in the temple carvings she had seen, or the curious illustrations from that wicked little book she had found once beneath her brother’s bed. She had been searching for her pet mongoose, fearing he had escaped the house. Instead, she had found the
Kama Sutra.
    She wondered if Lord Griffith had ever read it.
    Well! This was hardly the time to ponder her secret obsession with sex.
    Shaking off her momentary daze, Georgie turned away, irked to realize she was blushing. “Would you care for a drink, my lord? I should check on Lakshmi soon—and Adley.”
    Poor poppet, the servants said her lovable bumbler had walked through the doorway and fainted the instant he’d gotten Lakshmi to safety.
    â€œNo, thank you,” Lord Griffith said with only a slight easing of his terse, formal manner. He clasped his hands behind his back. “I should be happy to pay my respects to your father at his earliest convenience.”
    â€œOh, Papa’s not here,” she said with a studied air of blithe unconcern, even as she braced herself for his reaction.
Here we go.
    â€œOh,” he said in surprise. “When do you expect him back?”
    â€œHaven’t the foggiest.”
    â€œPardon?”
    â€œOh, he’s sailed off halfway ’round the world again on some new venture with our cousin Jack,” she informed him with a dismissive wave. “He probably won’t be back until next year.”
    â€œI see,” he murmured, a distracted frown settling over his chiseled face. “I was not aware of this.”
    â€œYes, I am sorry about that,” she answered in a soothing tone. “I had no way of getting word to you since you were already en route. But I did forward your letter on to my father at sea,” she added. “Jack’s merchant ships will often carry our letters for us, and Papa had asked me before he left to open his mail for him, and to send on anything of importance.”
    â€œWell, I am very sorry to have missed him,” he said, absorbing the news. “Your father was a great favorite with all of us when we were boys, back in the days when he still lived in England. Will you give him my regards?”
    â€œHappily, and I’m sure he sends you his own. Now then, come in, for heaven’s sake!” she chided, crossing the entrance hall to take his arm. “Don’t just stand there by the door, my dear guest! You must make yourself at home. Something to drink? Brandy?