Free Miss George's Second Chance by Heather Boyd Page A

been in the last year. He helped himself to one last forkful of chicken and then resumed his seat at the head of his dining room table to place his modest bet.
    “Friday night has not been the same without your presence, Sir Peter. Always a handsome spread.” Walter George confided from behind a plate piled high from the contents of the sideboard. Despite his slimmer profile it was clear his appetite had not been reduced as he plunked a second helping at his end of the table before digging in with gusto.
    Friday night had been the highlight of the week in his household in previous years. At that time, he’d needed to keep up appearances so no one would ever know how close to the wind he’d sailed. He shuddered at the thought of debtor’s prison. If not for Imogen offering him a life raft, that in the end he hadn’t needed to cling to, he’d have already been there and miserable, but then fate had swept him into a greater fortune than he’d ever dreamed. Yet over the past year he’d been far from content. He could afford to gamble as much as he wanted now but strangely found he wasn’t so keen to risk the security of the funds.
    George belched and tapped at his chest. “Pardon me. My stomach has missed you.”
    Peter laughed. Walter George was rather uncharacteristically cut this evening. His cheeks held a cheerful ruddy glow brighter than a burn on a summer’s day. Given what Peter knew of the stress of life with Imogen as she was now, he judged Walter George probably needed to take his mind off his troubles for one night.
    Peter tossed a few coins onto the growing pile and picked up his cards again. “I’m in.”
    The others cheered as Radley matched his bet. “We’ve all missed Friday night cards here,” Radley confided. “How else can we get a moment’s peace away from our families?”
    Merton chuckled softly. “Is Miss Julia causing you trouble again?”
    “If only I were sure of that.” Radley frowned at his cards. “I swear the way she’s smiling she’s got a secret admirer.”
    “Now that is news.” Merton pursed his lips as he stared at his cards. “Any idea who?”
    “None. The bastard is fast on his feet.” Radley stared across the table. “When you called on me yesterday did you notice anyone in the parlor with m’sister as you were leaving?”
    “None at all. She was alone when I passed the doorway.” Merton folded and sat back.
      Radley grunted. “Well, she bears watching. The way she goes on, daring us all to race her left and right, she’ll ruin her own reputation without help.”
    Merton swiveled on his chair to face Peter. “Now do tell us about the ladies you encountered during your time away. Were there none to tempt the new baronet to play?”
    Peter laughed at the brash question, aware Walter’s gaze had sharpened on him and was no longer indifferent to what he might say. “I did meet one lovely lady, sharp tongue, sharp mind. A pity she was closer to one hundred than my own age.”
    The table burst into laughter, all but Walter. He stared.
    Radley leaned forward. “I know a lot of pretty ladies who’d be only to happy to meet a young and well to-do baronet. You’ve only to say the word and the world is yours, you know.”
    Peter smiled at the irony. A year ago he’d been desperate to find a solution to his problems but had been overlooked by all and sundry. Now the title opened many doors for him but none he wanted to walk through. “I’ll pass.”
    “Suit yourself,” Radley drained his glass and rose on unsteady feet. “But don’t think your title and money will always smooth the way with everyone. More men have been made unhappy by a pretty face without the right connections. You should choose wisely.”
    He intended to. He remembered Imogen’s face as she’d inspected his simple gifts that afternoon. He’d made a good start in renewing their relationship. Her expression when he hadn’t stolen a proper kiss had been priceless. He treasured her