Loving Lady Georgianna (Spirited #2)

Chapter 15

As a point of fact, Thorne rather liked women. They smelled nice, and generally speaking, they were good company as well  - able to soothe his mind and yet, keep him on his toes.

It offered a compelling mixture.

Then there was their inner strength. Women were far more able, in his experience,  to cast aside their own troubles in consolation of someone else's. Not to mention the verbal follies and repartee that kept him in good humor.

Today, however, Thorne found that women could be rather bothersome as well. Especially if they were of the younger variety.

And say, one's sisters.

"For God's sakes, Bernie," he said, peering over her shoulder at a broadsheet with a wanted man. "Where did you get that?"

Bernie rocked back on the heels of her slippers, hiding the dueced thing behind her back.  Rather unsuccessfully Thorne would say considering how it crinkled in her fist.

Giving Thorne her best put-upon-expression, Bernie looked so much like her more mischievous sister, Suzanne, that he thought he had momentarily confused the two. Unfortunately for him, it seemed Bernie was taking pointers from Suzanne. The mole at the corner of her lip also gave assurance that yes, he most surely had the correct sister.

And with that look - innocent and yet devilish at the same time - Thorne could understand Greyson's plight months before when he had been acquainted with his little heathen, Lady Charlotte. If Charlie had, in fact, put his best friend through half of what Greyson said she had, Thorne was in for quite the ticket.

But why the fascination with petty broadsheets?

Ones with pirates, of all things!

Thorne grabbed around Bernie only for Suzanne to sidestep him. Grasping the paper from her sister's hand, Suzanne skipped out of reach. She strode backwards, the paper beneath her nose, as she faced Thorne. "Papa left it lying about."

He sighed, earning himself a dubious look from Bernie.

"What?" She chirped, "Are you saying we were not supposed to read it?"  Folding her arm through Thorne's, her gloved palm rested lightly on his forearm, her strides two to every one of his own.

"He's rather handsome, truth be told." This from Suzanne, who had worked the crinkles from the sheet, staring at the man worth 10,000 pounds and counting.

A hawker strode past at that moment, the little boy's body slamming into Thorne. The boy righted his cap that came askew, his dirty blonde hair poking out at odd angles, as the urchin tilted his head back and gave a wide gap-toothed grin. "Sorry, guv," he said, looking not the least bit sorry as his hand came up with a newsheet. Dirt and ink smeared the boy's skin. "Would you like a paper?"

The urchin had a foul smell to him, and though Thorne held no interest in the news, he found himself reaching into his coin purse and pulling out a ha'penny. The boy made a sound of glee, wrapping his fingers around the coin and skirting around Thorne.

Well, he thought, wryly, apparently the boy had held no intention of giving him a paper.

Thorne's head turned, watching as the boy skipped down the street and rounded a corner. He imaged that his Georgie - that Lady Georgianna, he corrected - would have taken the lad to a teashop for a scone and tea. But she had a soft heart, didn't she?

She would make a wonderful lifemate.

The idea bludgeoned him over the head, but Thorne knew it in his soul to be true. After his visit a few evening's past, he couldn't quite get Georgie from his mind.