“Georgie, darling,” Billie said when Georgie reached her side. “How are you holding up?”

Georgie shrugged. “Eh.”

“Is Mama driving you mad?”

“Just a little bit.”

Billie sighed. She’d visited several times since the scandal had broken, often just to distract their mother so that she would not smother Georgie with her concern. “She means well.”

“I know. That’s what makes it bearable. And occasionally even nice.”

Billie took her hand and squeezed it. “Have you heard anything from Mr. Oakes?”

“No,” Georgie said with some alarm. “Why, have you heard something?”

“Not really. Just little rumblings that he might still be trying to press his suit.”

“That’s not new news.” Georgie’s mouth flattened into a grim line. She’d received a letter from Freddie Oakes the day after she’d returned home to Kent. It had been full of drippings and drivel, and she could hear his smarmy voice in his words of undying love and devotion. The way he told it, he’d been overcome with the need to make her his.

Rubbish. All of it. If he’d wanted to make her his, he should have bloody well asked.

“We shall do our best to distract you this evening,” Billie said. “There is nothing like the banded multitudes of Rokesbys and Bridgertons to make one laugh.” She considered that. “Or cry. But tonight, I think laugh.”

“Speaking of multitudes, do you know why Nicholas is home?”

Billie shook her head. “I saw him only briefly. He looked rather grim.”

“Oh, dear. I hope nothing is wrong.”

“If that’s the case, I’m sure he’ll tell us when he’s ready.”

“How unlike you to be so patient.”

“It can’t be anything too serious,” Billie said. “I can’t imagine there is trouble at school—he’s always been so clever. But why else would he be down?”

Georgie shrugged. She hadn’t seen Nicholas very often in the last few years. But given that a family was indeed a group of people who loved and cared about each other (and were therefore logically interested in comings and goings), she generally knew what he was up to.

“I think they’ve arrived,” Billie said, looking over her shoulder toward the door that led out to the hall.

“The Earl and Countess of Manston,” Thamesly announced, as if they didn’t all know who was expected, “and Mr. Nicholas Rokesby.”

This bit of formality was followed by Edmund’s more jovial greeting. “Rokes!” he exclaimed. “What the devil are you doing in Kent?”

Nicholas laughed and made the sort of noise that revealed nothing. Georgie thought it remarkable that this seemed to satisfy Edmund, but the two men began to chat as if nothing was amiss.

“Did you see that?” she asked her sister.

“See what?”

“He just completely avoided the question, and Edmund didn’t even notice.”

“Oh, he noticed,” Billie said. “He’s just pretending not to.”

“Why?”

Billie shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he doesn’t care.”

“Of course he cares. Nicholas is his closest friend.”

“Then he’ll ask him later. Really, Georgie, why are you so curious?”

“Why aren’t you?”

“Probably because I know I’ll find out soon enough. It’s not as if someone has died.”

“Of course not,” Georgie murmured, because what else could she say? Sometimes she truly did not understand her sister.

“I’m getting a glass of sherry,” Billie said. “Can I get you one?”

“No, thank you. I’m going to say hello to Nicholas.”

Billie gave her a look. “Don’t interrogate him.”

“I won’t!”

But Billie clearly didn’t believe her. She pressed her lips together and wagged her finger as she departed. It was rather like getting scolded for something one hadn’t yet done. Georgie scowled in return—since there was nothing like an older sister to bring out one’s inherent immaturity—and of course that was when she found herself face-to-face with—

“Nicholas!” she exclaimed.

Although really, exclaimed might be too optimistic a verb. The sound that came out of her mouth did not sound fully human.

“Georgiana,” he said, giving her a polite bow. But the look he gave her was somewhat wary.

“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “You surprised me.”

“My apologies. I did not mean to.”

“No, of course not. Why would you?”

He did not have an answer to that. And, to quote herself, why would he? It was a stupid question.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Let us begin again. It is lovely to see you.”

“And you.”

If this wasn’t the most awkward conversation they had ever shared, she didn’t know what was. Georgie did not know what to make of it. She would never have called Nicholas Rokesby a confidante, but he was certainly a friend, and she’d never had difficulty chatting with him before.

“You look well,” he said.

He looked tired. Exceedingly so. His eyes were the same blue shared by all of his brothers, but the purple shadows beneath seemed to be draining them of their usual sparkle.

But she couldn’t very well say this to him after not having seen him for nearly a year, so instead she thanked him politely for the compliment. “Er, thank you. It’s been a …” Oh, for heaven’s sake, he had to have heard what had happened to her. “It’s been an eventful few weeks,” she finally said.

“Yes, I, er …” He cleared his throat. “I imagine so.”

There was another awkward pause, and then another, which made her wonder if two awkward pauses in a row was really just one long awkward pause.

But what if one broke them up with a nonverbal motion such as shuffling one’s feet? Did that ensure they were two separate pauses? Because she had definitely shuffled her feet.

She was doing it again, as a matter of fact.

Aaaaand now it was officially the longest pause in the history of long pauses.

“Ehrm …”

“Ahh …”

“Do you like Scotland?” she blurted out.

“I do.” He looked relieved that she’d asked such a benign question. “It can be quite cold, of course, although not so much this time of year.”

“It is far to the north.”

“Yes.”

She waited for him to ask her a question, because surely she could not be expected to take care of all the boring questions, but he just stood there with a queasy expression on his face, and every so often he’d dart a glance over at his parents.

That was odd.

Lord and Lady Manston were talking with her parents, which was not odd. Except that half the time she could swear Lord Manston was sneaking glances in their direction. And when he wasn’t, Lady Manston was.

Honestly, the entire exchange was downright bizarre.

She decided to make one last attempt at polite conversation and gave Nicholas her best sunny smile. “Did I hear that you arrived only this morning?”