“Good afternoon, cousin.”
Georgie froze for a moment, then turned with a smile pasted onto her face. “Do I know you, sir?”
Eyes blazing, Cousin John shot a hand out to grasp her arm, but she leapt back out of his reach, her gaze steady on his.
“Here now! What do you think you’re about?” Moustache waving with indignation, Mr. Banner stormed out of his shop, closely followed by his oldest son. From the other side of the street, the butcher came to stand in his doorway, a cleaver in his large right hand.
With a nervous glance at the butcher, Cousin John said, “No cause for alarm, gentlemen. This is my cousin, whom I have not seen in an age. Is that not right, Cousin Georgiana?”
Georgie was torn. On the one hand, she had no desire at all for private conversation with her cousin. On the other, there was no way to know what he might tell the villagers out of spite.
“It’s quite all right, Mr. Banner,” she said at last. “I did not recognize my cousin at first as I did not realize he was in Yorkshire. What brings you here, sir?”
Mr. Banner withdrew back to his shop, his son trailing along behind after a final suspicious stare at Sir John, but the butcher remained watching from his doorway. Cousin John glanced nervously in his direction as he lowered his voice.
“I’ve come for my otters.”
“Yourotters?” Georgie could not help her voice rising. “They are not, and never have been,yourotters.”
“Of course they’re my otters. By the terms of the entailment, I inherited all of the livestock on your father’s estate.”
“My otters are notlivestock. They were entrusted to my father by the Prince Regent himself.”
“They were entrusted to the estate. The estate has passed to me. Therefore, they are my otters now. Sir Anthony Hoult has said so.”
Georgie shook her head. “I do not believe you. In any case, send a solicitor with your demands and speak to my husband about it.”
“Yes, your husband,” Cousin John purred in a way that sent ice down her spine. “Remarkably fast work on your part given that no one in the village had ever laid eyes on you until a week ago.”
He cleared his throat and continued with obvious relish as she grew colder and colder despite the heat of the day.
“It appears there was a youngmanliving at the rectory for over a month who conveniently disappeared a few days before you returned from York as Lord Peter’s bride. And that young man arrived with his pet otters in tow.”
At her expression, he said, “The publican was remarkably informative about Lord Peter’s houseguest when we spoke not more than an hour ago. It was easy for me to put the pieces together once I had them, though it seems everyone else has not.”
Despite herself, Georgie was shaken, but she stood firm. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He smiled one of the most unpleasant smiles Georgie had seen from him yet. “No need to look so stricken, Cousin. All I want is the otters. In fact, I shall make you a bargain. Give them over to me, and no one ever need know where ‘George Morley’ disappeared to.”
Georgie turned on her heel and stalked away towards the rectory to the echo of her cousin’s laughter.
She must tell Peter that Sir John was in the village. If nothing else, he would need to be warned in case her cousin tried to call on him.
She would tell him that very night.
Once they were ensconcedin their respective chairs by the fireplace after supper, Georgie delicately cleared her throat, and Peter looked up from his book with a smile.
“Is there something you would like to speak to me about?”
“Yes. I was in the village today, and my cousin Sir John Morland approached me.”
The smile dropped from Peter’s face, replaced by a fierce scowl. “I ought to have known he would not give up so easily.”
“You ought… do you mean youknewhe was in Kilbythorpe?”
“Why, yes. He came to call on me this morning. I sent him away with a flea in his ear.”
His nonchalance made Georgie want to shake him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”