He froze, the cloth still in his hand. Had Granville’s men finally come for him? He put out the lantern, drew his knife, and stole to the door. Standing to one side, he flung it wide.

Lady Georgina stood outside, the rain dripping from her hood. “May I come in?” Her gaze lowered and caught at his bare chest. Her blue eyes widened.

Harry felt his cock harden at her reaction. “I didn’t think you waited on my permission to enter, my lady.” He turned back to the table to put on his shirt.

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you.” She walked in and shut the door.

He uncovered his supper—bean soup—and sat to eat it.

Lady Georgina dropped her cloak untidily on a chair. He felt her glance at him before she wandered to the fireplace. She touched each of the animal carvings with a fingertip and then came back toward him.

He spooned up some of the soup. It was cold now but still tasty.

She trailed her fingers across the table, stopping at the letter. She picked it up. “You know the Earl of Swartingham?”

“We frequent the same coffeehouse in London.” He poured himself a mug of ale. “Sometimes he writes me about agricultural matters.”

“Really.” She started reading the letter. “But he sounds like he considers you a friend. His language is certainly casual.”

Harry choked and snatched the letter from her hand, startling her. Lord Swartingham’s writing could be colorful at times—not fit for a lady. “How can I help you, my lady?”

Lady Georgina drifted away from the table. Her manner seemed off, and it took him a minute to place it.

She was nervous.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He’d never seen her flustered before.

“You wouldn’t let me finish my tale last time,” she said. “About the Leopard Prince.” She halted by the fire and turned a curiously vulnerable face to him.

With one cold word, he could send her flying, this woman whose station so far outranked his. Had he ever had that much power over an aristocrat? He doubted it. The problem was that sometime in the last week she’d stopped being merely a member of the aristocracy and had become . . . a woman. Lady Georgina.

His lady.

“Please tell me your story, my lady.” Harry ate some more of Mrs. Burns’s soup, chewing on a piece of mutton.

She seemed to relax and turned back to the mantel, playing with the whittled animals as she spoke. “The Leopard Prince defeated the ogre and brought back the Golden Horse. Did I tell you that part?” She glanced at him.

Harry nodded.

“Yes, now . . .” She scrunched her nose in thought. “The young king, do you remember him?”

“Mmm.”