“Not that last night was a mistake!” she blurted, prattling on gracelessly. “I don’t mean that. The things you did...it was incredible...but it just happened, really, without either one of us putting any thought into it. But now we need to take a step back and...and think...before we do...that...again.”
Georgiana knew she was babbling, but she seemed unable to stop herself. He was terrifying her, quite frankly. The thought of being with him again made her edgy and a bit breathless.
She was exasperated by the fact that the idea so appealed to her.
“We can’t do that again, Simon!” she told him resolutely. “It’s not...wise.”
Simon’s brow dipped as he tried sorting through her blathering nonsense. “If I understand you,” he said slowly. “You don’t want us to continue intimacies because it’s not...rational. Do I have that right?”
“Yes,” she said. “I mean, no.” Georgiana blew out a flustered breath. “I don’t know. But it’s not rational. And I don’t want you thinking I’ve joined the hordes of women who clamor at your feet, begging for your attentions.”
He snorted in disgust. “I don’t think any such thing.” Simon took her hand again and sketched small circles on her wrist. “Georgie, you are the most practical, most intelligent person I know. In truth, I can’t imagine you clamoring for anything, much less my affections. And I completely understand your discomfort with the situation—sex is not rational. It’s quite the opposite, in fact.”
“Yes,” she agreed, feeling a bit comforted that he understood.
“You’re not the type of person who lets passion overtake reason, so I realize this must all be a bit overwhelming,” Simon said gently. “Especially since I misconstrued your attentions. In light of that, I understand that you need to—as you put it—think about things.”
Georgiana breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you,” she said gratefully.
Simon shook his head. “But I don’t, Princess. I know exactly what I want, and I don’t give a damn whether it’s rational or not. So I’m telling you, openly and honestly as a logical and sensible adult, that I’m going to bed you, and hopefully make you completely irrational, every chance I get.”
“You can’t do that!” she complained, her voice shaky.
“Sweetheart, it’s not like I’m going to force myself upon you,” Simon told her, his tone laced with amusement. “I’d like to think my bed partners have always been eager and willing.”
Georgiana tried to block out memories of just how eager she’d been. “It just doesn’t make sense, Simon. It’s not...prudent.”
“You’re probably right,” Simon agreed, but he gave her a lascivious smirk, and his voice was pure sin. “But I enjoyed tupping you too much to care whether it’s prudent or not.”
She made an offended noise at his deliberate vulgarity, though she shivered at his words.
“You can always say no,” he pointed out.
“True,” she agreed hesitantly. “So why don’t I just say no right now?”
“You could,” Simon shrugged. “But I’d probably just take it as a challenge and double my efforts to seduce you.”
Before she could protest further, he rose and swiped at the sand on his breeches. “It appears our guides have been successful, Miss Phillips.”
Georgiana saw the two Dongari men walking toward them, Jane and Sir Jon in tow. Her grandfather was talking animatedly to another man—Professor Thorne, most likely. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sight of her family as she swallowed the huge lump that had formed in her throat and accepted Simon’s outstretched hand.
She allowed him to shake sand from her skirts, resisting the urge to run headlong to her grandfather and cousin. Jane, who was not nearly so circumspect, tore down the beach toward them as fast as her legs could carry her. Unable to hold back any longer, Georgiana ran to meet her cousin.
They collided in a huge embrace that threatened to knock them both off their feet, Jane hugging her so tightly Georgiana could barely catch her breath. When Jane finally let her go, silent tears were streaming down both of their faces. Jane smoothed Georgiana’s hair, clucking as she examined the young woman for any sign of injury.
“We dared not hope,” Jane barely managed to grate out. “When we realized the hill had washed away...we feared the worst.”
“I’m fine,” Georgiana murmured. “Simon kept me safe.”
Simon was suddenly there at her elbow, and Jane threw her arms around him too. “Thank you, Mr. Ashford,” Jane choked into his collar. “Thank you for bringing her home.”
“Of course, Mrs. Fairmonte,” he said softly. He met Georgiana’s gaze. “None of us want to see Miss Phillips hurt.”
The look in his eye was too much, and Georgiana swallowed another lump in her throat. She resisted the urge to leap into his arms. He’d never believe she was indifferent to him if she gave in to such romantic impulses.
Simon untangled himself from Jane’s embrace as the other two men strode up next to them. Sir Jon grabbed both of his granddaughters in a tight hug, and for the first time in a long time Georgiana could sense just how much the old codger cared for his ragged little family of misfits.
The old man released them without a word then patted Simon on the back, shaking his hand so hard and so long that Georgiana thought Simon’s arm must be aching. Her grandfather opened his mouth to say something, only to shake his head and snap it shut an instant later. Sir Jon, an articulate and astute orator—at least when sober—appeared to be entirely at a loss for words.
Simon, chivalrous as always, smoothed over the moment. “I apologize for running off with Miss Phillips so abruptly. I hope our little jungle adventure didn’t put you out too much, Sir Jon.”
“Not at all, dear boy,” Sir Jon said gruffly, sniffing just a bit. “Not at all. You’re a good lad, Ashford.”
“I’ve brought you some Dongari tribesmen as an apology,” Simon said lightly. “Not only did they get us here to Puri safely, but they’re also more than willing to share some of their tribe’s customs, if you think they’d be beneficial to your research.”
“Hang the research, and hang your modesty,” Sir Jon muttered, patting Simon’s back once more and hugging Georgiana again. “You’ve returned my granddaughter safely. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
Simon shot Georgiana a furtive look that brought a slow burn to her blood. He shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”
Suddenly remembering his manners, Sir Jon turned to the stranger standing just behind him. “Ashford. Georgiana. Allow me to introduce Professor Julian Thorne, my esteemed colleague and our host.”
Professor Thorne greeted them, and Georgiana took stock of the striking man who would very likely decide her family’s fate. He wasn’t quite as tall as Simon, but his was an impressive stature nonetheless. He carried himself with an air of authority, as though he knew his place in the world and few dared challenge him. While sure of himself, he didn’t seem arrogant or unkind. His hair, the color of antique gold, was cropped short, and his warm brown eyes seemed to dance with wit and intelligence. Based on the faint laugh lines and tiny crinkles etched around his eyes, Georgiana estimated he was closer to forty than thirty.
Professor Thorne greeted her politely, placing a swift kiss on her knuckles, then shook hands with Simon. Georgiana noticed him cataloging the simple cotton band on Simon’s wrist. Before she could react, he’d glanced at its match on her own arm. Georgiana quickly tucked her hand in the nook of her cousin’s elbow, but not before a pair of bright brown eyes met hers—an amused gleam dancing in their depths.
Julian Thorne didn’t miss much.
They were in trouble, she realized.
“Well, Sir Jon,” he said smoothly, “now that you’ve found your missing relation, I’ll see to it that word is s
ent to the rest of your party in Pipli. They can call off their search and join us in Puri tomorrow. We can begin our search for evidence of the Black Pagoda as soon as the festival of Rath Yatra has commenced.”
“Our Dongari friends mentioned the procession of chariots was open to non-Hindus,” Simon said. “I believe Miss Phillips and Mrs. Fairmonte would find the event of some significance to their time in India.” He added as an afterthought, “With Sir Jon’s permission, of course.”
Sir Jon merely waved his assent.
Thorne was closely watching the exchange between the two men and Georgiana felt her panic grow. “Absolutely,” he agreed smoothly. “As a matter of fact, Mrs. Fairmonte and I had discussed the very possibility. I had only intended it as a distraction from her worry over her dear cousin, but if the ladies are genuinely interested, the festival is a singular experience.”
“From a safe distance, of course,” Simon added. “I’ve heard people who go near the procession do so at peril to life and limb.”
“Indeed,” Professor Thorne nodded his approval. “Sir Jon and I have naturally had little opportunity to discuss the particulars of your upcoming foray to Konark. Perhaps, Mr. Ashford, you could give me a quick overview of your plan for this particular expedition.”
Sir Jon barely acknowledged the discussion, clearly relieved to hand over the reins to the younger men. “Yes, of course. You two hash out the details.”
Georgiana watched the entire exchange with a growing dismay. Simon had very neatly, and very deliberately, usurped her place as her grandfather’s adviser. What’s more, by directing his questions to Simon, Professor Thorne had cemented her role as bystander. She wondered if he’d done so intentionally. It didn’t matter, she surmised, because either way both men had effectively cut her from the ranks and relegated her grandfather to figurehead in one swift strike.
Simon and Professor Thorne gestured for the others to follow the Dongari toward town. Sir Jon immediately joined the tribesmen, chattering and asking questions, presumably about life in the jungles of India. Georgiana shot Simon a dirty look, which he countered with a gracious gesture.
“Ladies first,” he said sweetly.
She bristled but did as she was directed. Georgiana didn’t miss the knowing smile pulling at her cousin’s lips. The thought of recounting her time with Simon, with him a few feet behind her, made her skittish.
Before Jane could ask, she whispered, “I’ll tell you everything. Later.”
Georgiana prayed Jane wouldn’t press her for details on the stretch to Julian Thorne’s palazzo. But her cousin was unusually quiet as they strolled down the beach and toward the bustling town, and Georgiana wondered at the odd silence. As a distraction, Georgiana nattered on about the sights and sounds around them, and how they might best set about their research. Despite her best efforts, it was clear Jane was only half attending.
Georgiana chewed her lip, lost in her own thoughts. Try as she might, she couldn’t shake the sense that something was not right. It was a relief when they reached the edge of the beach and Professor Thorne bade their Dongari guides to wait. He very efficiently swooped in to take Jane’s hand in his arm, explaining that the city was too busy and boisterous for the ladies to walk unescorted. Jane smiled up at him with a look that Georgiana immediately knew was trouble.
A large, familiar hand enveloped hers, and Simon’s eyes twinkled as they met her gaze. As though he could read her thoughts, he murmured, “You can’t stop it from happening, Princess. Leave it be.”
Without waiting for a response, Simon took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm. The feel of his warm muscles bunched under her fingertips was both comfortable and disquieting, and she found herself swallowing a small lump in her throat.
As they meandered through city, Georgiana huffed to herself. Things were spinning out of her control, and for the first time in a long time she wasn’t sure what to do. It was a frightening notion. For all she rejoiced in each new locale, Georgiana disliked change in certain aspects of her personal life. Especially when it came to her family.
She narrowed her eyes at Julian Thorne’s back. All her carefully laid plans—years of research, routines that had kept them safe and, if not prosperous, at least out of debt—were suddenly at risk. From what she could see, Thorne posed a bigger threat to her than she’d first thought. For now he was little more than a snag in the fabric of their lives, yet even the smallest snag could unravel a masterpiece.
Georgiana considered what to do about the man walking next to her cousin. The answer was simple, she decided. She’d do whatever was needed to keep her family intact.
Chapter Twelve
The sun was setting by the time they reached the two-story Portuguese villa that served as Julian Thorne’s Puri residence. Even before they entered into the stone gate surrounding the edifice, Simon was impressed. The centuries-old building gleamed like old gold in the fading light. Though it originally had been built on the edge of town, it now sat in the center of a lively neighborhood filled with crowds of pilgrims preparing for the upcoming festival. The villa was set amidst a lovely garden of cedar and bergamot trees and laurel bushes, and the grand structure stood proudly among the chaos.
As they entered the courtyard, Simon found himself more and more impressed by Professor Thorne with each passing moment. “The architecture is stunning,” he said as they were led into an entrance hall adorned with a brightly colored fresco. Ornate festoons of flowers, leaves and fruits decorated panels next to scenes from Greek mythology. “You’ve done an excellent job maintaining such a worthy structure.”
“As you can see, the loggia depicts the courtship of Eros and the goddess Psyche. It took years, but I had as much of the original fresco repaired and restored as possible,” Professor Thorne explained, clearly proud of his home. “I inherited the villa from my grandfather’s family when I was just sixteen, and it had been sadly overlooked for decades. I fear the gods’ wedding scene was very nearly destroyed by neglect.”
Julian gestured to a small Hindi woman standing at the foot of the highly polished marble staircase. “I imagine everyone’s had a long day,” Thorne said. “If the ladies would like to retire, my housekeeper will show you to your rooms. The staff will see to it that you’re bathed and fed. We can all start fresh tomorrow.”
He turned to Simon and added apologetically, “I’m afraid we’ve had a change to your arrangements, Ashford. Water damage from the rains. Your chamber should be ready within the hour. In the meantime, why don’t you and Sir Jon join me for a drink in the study?”
Georgiana stomped off without a word and Simon reluctantly let her go, knowing he wouldn’t see her again until the morning. The thought of following her to bed was infinitely more appealing than drinks with Julian Thorne. Yet he heard himself replying politely, “Wonderful, Thorne. Thank you.” Surprisingly, Sir Jon begged an old man’s weariness and clambered off to his room.
Once they were seated in the study, with a large tray of cold meats, cheese and fruit covering most of the desk, Julian poured Simon a healthy draught of brandy. He poured one for himself and sipped it thoughtfully as he listened to Simon recount the events of the past two days.
“You’ve had a hell of an adventure,” Julian said as he sat. “Mudslide. Mallayuddah with a Dongari chieftain’s son. A long trek through the jungle. I must say, you manage to stay busy.”
“Not by choice,” Simon said shaking his head. “I seem to find myself in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
Julian Thorne shrugged a shoulder. “Some may consider you lucky.”
Simon chuckled and took a drink of brandy. “I don’t think I’d call it luck.”
“Hmmm,” Julian shrugged. “Plenty of men would thank their lucky stars if they married Miss Phillips. Even if it were only in a Dongari ceremony.”
Before Simon could deny it
, Julian continued, “Though by the icy goodbye you just received, I wonder if the honeymoon is over.”
“What a wild imagination you have, Professor,” Simon said, though he was genuinely curious how Julian had put it together.
Thorne pointed to the band of cotton on his wrist. “She wears one too,” he explained simply. “I know a Dongari noble wouldn’t lower himself to wrestle an Englishman unless he badly wanted something. As you likely had nothing else of value on your person, I assume the wager was hand of the lovely Miss Phillips. I also know that the Dongari royalty take multiple wives and mistresses. A chieftain’s son needn’t expend so much energy on a woman unless he intended to wed her.”
Simon was impressed. “Are you merely interested in my recent nuptials, Professor, or is there something more to this conversation?”
“Forgive me for speaking so bluntly, but if we are to work together, I’d like us to be completely candid,” Julian said, his tone firm but sincere.
Simon wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to share too much with a stranger. Julian Thorne appeared to be on the level, but that didn’t mean he was ready to offer his trust. “Somehow, Thorne, I don’t think I could stop you.”
“One of my many shortcomings, I’m afraid,” Thorne grinned. “My late wife used to chastise me for being too direct. Alas, I have yet to remedy it.”
“I didn’t realize you were married. I’m sorry for your loss,” Simon said.
“Sarah contracted Typhoid fever during our travels,” Julian said quietly, a shadow stealing over his face. “It was several years ago, but it feels like a different lifetime. I have chosen a life that most Englishwomen are too fragile to share.” His expression darkened. “Losing Sarah nearly destroyed me.”
Simon considered his own panic as he watched Georgiana battle a croc, a mudslide and a tribesman. He nodded, completely sympathetic. “I understand your sentiment.”
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