“Mr. Dawson is the younger son of Viscount Salsbury,” Georgiana explained. “And rich as a nabob!”
Anne glanced up at that, her sensibilities no doubt offended by the bluntness of the remark, but Georgiana continued blithely. “Naturally, you will approve, won’t you, of giving Anne away?” Georgiana asked, pinching him through his coat sleeve.
“What? Uh, yes, of course!” Ashdowne said. He looked wary and wan and unhappy, and Georgiana wondered if the man she had thought impervious to everything had somehow been hurt. By her? The notion gave her a funny feeling deep inside, where she was already being affected by his mere presence.
“You mean, you will give us your blessing?” Anne asked, her expression sweetly hopeful.
“Certainly,” Ashdowne answered. “I have no objections to the match.”
For a moment Anne was silent, then she bit her lip in a nervous gesture. “He is in trade,” she said in a forthright manner that Georgiana could only admire.
“I’m sure Ashdowne won’t care, being a younger brother himself and having to earn his living as…best he could,” Georgiana said, garnering a dark look from her companion. “Unless, of course, it bothers you,” she added, turning once more to Anne.
Her face flushed, Ashdowne’s sister-in-law lifted her dark gaze to Georgiana, her lovely face somber. “No. You see, I am very proud of him,” she said.
The soft but sure affirmation from a woman who admitted to her own temerity struck Georgiana quite forcefully, as if Anne were somehow more courageous than herself. She not only believed in the man she loved, but stood up for him, and suddenly Georgiana’s feelings for Ashdowne returned in a rush, becoming all mixed up in Anne’s testimonial.
Maybe she had been a self-righteous prig to pass judgment on Ashdowne’s deeds when deep down inside she felt a certain reluctant admiration for his cleverness and skills and daring. Not many men could have accomplished such feats, Georgiana reminded herself. No one else had ever come close to such a career, while managing to elude everyone—except herself.
“And he’s going to pay my debt,” Anne murmured, drawing Georgiana from her thoughts.
“Really, Anne, there’s no need for—” Ashdowne began.
“No. The loss was due to my own folly, and I won’t have you responsible for it. Dear Mr. Dawson says it is the least he can do since my visit to London brought me into his life.”
“Very well,” Ashdowne said, slanting Georgiana a glance, and she suspected he wanted to speak to her privately. Had he already returned the necklace? If not, he could do so now, without even taking a loss, and she knew a burgeoning sense of euphoria that belied all her doubts about him.
“Georgie!” The great boom of her father’s voice made Georgiana wince, for she was not in the mood for his good-natured teasing, especially when it probably would involve Ashdowne. And sure enough, his next words were a hearty greeting to the marquis.
“Lord Ashdowne! Why, we haven’t seen you since Georgie returned. Thought you’d abandoned us,” he said, winking at the man in a manner that made Georgiana want to flee. Unfortunately, she saw no escape, for her mother was not far behind, with her giggly sisters in tow, while Anne stood waiting for an introduction.
Georgiana was just wondering how the morning could turn any worse when she spotted Jeffries heading toward them with a grim expression. What now? she wondered, glancing furtively at Ashdowne. His blue eyes flickered in warning before he donned his usual posture of cool, collected nobleman, and, for his sake, Georgiana tried to remain calm. However, she knew he had no idea that she had once tendered his name as a suspect to the Bow Street Runner. And now was probably not a good time to tell him.
“My lord, Miss Bellewether, ladies,” Jeffries said. He nodded his head in a gesture of respect, but he was unusually somber, and for the first time, he looked as if he might actually be qualified for his position. Georgiana felt a shiver of foreboding dance up her spine, but she lifted her chin, determined to reveal nothing of what she knew.
Ashdowne might be a criminal, but she would never send him to the gallows. Never. Although the pain of his lies still lingered, his explanation yesterday had not left her unaffected, and last night…Georgiana’s body hummed with the memory of his touch, of caresses that she, even in her innocence, sensed had been more than a ploy.
Ashdowne was right. The past was over; it was time to look to the future. And in that moment, Georgiana knew that no matter what he had done, she still loved him, and every experience that had made him the man he was now contributed to that love. She tried to still her telltale trembling at the nearly overwhelming rush of emotion that came with the realization, for she knew that she needed to keep her wits about her while Jeffries stood before them.
“If I could have a word with you in private, my lord,” the Bow Street Runner said to Ashdowne, his tone ominous.
“As you can see, I am engaged at the moment,” the marquis replied, with just a hint of hauteur that Georgiana had to admire.
“I’m afraid it can’t wait, my lord,” Jeffries mumbled. He looked chagrined, and Georgiana took heart. The Bow Street Runner couldn’t possibly be convinced of Ashdowne’s guilt, or he wouldn’t look so apologetic, would he? Had Ashdowne had a chance to return the necklace yet? Georgiana wondered again. If so, then Jeffries’s suspicions didn’t matter, but if not…
“Well, then, say what you will,” Ashdowne replied. “I’m sure I have no secrets from this company, especially the lovely Miss Bellewether.” Only Georgiana caught the slight inflection in his tone that spoke to her alone, and she didn’t know whether to laugh or weep at his bold gesture.
“Very well, then,” Jeffries said, looking unhappy. “Some questions have been raised, my lord. And, uh, well, it seems that I must ask you exactly where you were during the time of the theft.”
Georgiana started in surprise. Why would the Bow Street Runner suddenly turn his attention to Ashdowne when he had dismissed the marquis in the past? As gasps rose from those who surrounded them, she sent a horrified glance toward Ashdowne, but he evidenced no alarm, only a certain arrogant amusement.
“Really, Jeffries, haven’t you got something better to do with your time?” he drawled, one dark brow lifted.
“I beg your pardon, my lord, but it has been brought to my attention that you are one of the few gentleman at the party whose whereabouts I can’t account for. So if you will just be so kind as to inform me of them, then I’ll be on my way,” Jeffries said.
Although Georgiana sensed that the Bow Street Runner was hopeful of that very outcome, he seemed determined to stick to his guns, and she felt a shiver of panic run up her spine.
“Well, if you must know, I was in the garden enjoying a breath of evening air,” Ashdowne said with an air of dismissal.
Jeffries’s face hardened into a dour but determined expression. “And might there be anyone who could verify that, my lord?”
Ashdowne smiled slightly. “Yes, of course.”
“And who might that be?”
Ashdowne eyed the Bow Street Runner with a show of affront. “You really can’t expect me to say, Jeffries, for a lady is involved, and I consider myself a gentleman, despite our visit to the garden.”
Georgiana was aware of her father’s snort of laughter, followed by the nervous giggles of her sisters, while beside her Anne was wide-eyed, pale and dumbstruck. Obviously Ashdowne was hoping to dismiss the Bow Street Runner’s insinuation, but Georgiana sensed that Jeffries was not going to be fobbed off so easily.
And before she had even formed the idea in her mind, she stepped forward. “This is really all unnecessary, Mr. Jeffries,” she said. He swung toward her with a tired look that warned her not to expound upon her theories, and so she did not. Drawing in a sharp breath, she lifted her chin, intent upon her course. “I was the one with his lordship in the garden. I can vouch for his whereabouts all during the time in question, for he was with me.”
Every eye in the vicinity turned to stare at
her, and Georgiana heard her mother’s horrified gasp as the poor woman swooned into her startled father’s arms. Her sisters giggled, Anne blanched, and Jeffries appeared only slightly mollified. Since she had once mentioned Ashdowne as a suspect, the Bow Street Runner probably wondered why she had done so, especially after trysting with him during the theft.
Well, let him wonder, Georgiana thought, for no one but Ashdowne could dispute her claim, and he…she glanced at him, fearful for a moment that he might do just that, yet when she met his gaze, all her fears fled. He was looking at her with a kind of dazed wonder, along with something else that made her heart swell with happiness.
Then he turned toward Jeffries. “I hardly think you a gentleman to bully my fiancée into speech, but I trust you are satisfied now?” he asked, one dark brow lifted.
“Yes, of course, my lord,” the Bow Street Runner mumbled. “My apologies, and, uh, congratulations,” he added with a grin.
“Thank you,” Ashdowne said. “Well, I can see that my secret is no longer safe,” he said, with a glance of tender regard toward Georgiana. He reached for her hand and, taking her gloved fingers in her own, faced her parents. Her distraught mother, who was being fanned by both of her sisters, was still supported by her bewildered-looking father, and all of them stared at Ashdowne.
“I fear the situation has forced us to reveal our plans earlier than intended, and I apologize for not speaking with you first about the matter, Mr. Bellewether, but I would accept your best wishes for my upcoming nuptials,” Ashdowne said. Lifting their entwined hands, he swung round, his deep voice rising over the murmuring voices of the crowd. “Miss Bellewether and I are to be married.”
Her mother, having just been revived by Eustacia and Araminta, swooned once more, while her sisters’ mouths gaped open, and Anne smiled beatifically. For her part, Georgiana, stunned speechless by the announcement, could only blink stupidly as congratulations erupted all around them.
Chapter Seventeen
Amid the flurry of well wishes, Georgiana remained dazed. Her first reaction to Ashdowne’s startling announcement had been shock, followed swiftly by a euphoria so intense she thought her knees would give way, and she had been grateful for his supporting arm.
But as her wits began to function once more, Georgiana realized that his sudden proposal had been prompted, not by any overwhelming affection for her, but as a means of salvaging her reputation. She had exonerated him, and a grateful Ashdowne had sought to remedy the injury she had wrought herself in doing so.
Yet Georgiana sought no repayment. She had spoken up out of love for him, and because of that love she wanted his happiness, not a marriage of sacrifice to the daughter of a country squire. Allowing herself no wonderful fancies of a future sharing Ashdowne’s company, his conversation, his laughter and his bed, Georgiana tried to concentrate upon the facts of the matter. Unfortunately, the most glaring fact was that she would not make him a suitable marchioness.
And so, even though she wanted to wed Ashdowne more than anything in the world, Georgiana made a solemn vow to do so only if his feelings were engaged. If not, she would put it about that they had a falling out sometime before the end of the summer, so that she might return with her family to their country home, the amazing experiences of Bath behind her. Although the thought was wrenching, Georgiana knew what was right.
She must talk to Ashdowne privately.
Unfortunately, the people who crowded around them in the Pump Room left her little hope of that, and it seemed a full hour before they had finally managed to move through the gathering to the doors. There Georgiana tugged on Ashdowne’s sleeve, in a hurry to escape her family and everyone else.
Although Ashdowne’s deft maneuvers assured them their exit, once outside, Georgiana kept walking until they reached a secluded spot under a large oak that dipped its branches toward the street. Then she turned toward Ashdowne and blurted out her thoughts without preamble.
“You don’t have to marry me,” she said. Although anxious to study his face, she didn’t trust herself to look at him, so she stared at his elegant neck cloth in an effort to keep her wits about her.
“Oh, but you’re wrong, my clever investigator,” Ashdowne said, and Georgiana glanced up at him in surprise. “You’ve discovered the nefarious Lord Whalsey’s plans, Mr. Hawkins’s unsavory doings, and the identity of The Cat, some very important accomplishments, I must admit. But all along, you have failed to see one very significant truth,” he said, stepping closer.
Georgiana looked up at him, puzzled, and his lovely mouth curved into a tender smile. “I want you to be my wife, Georgiana. I wanted you long before your selfless heroism. I’ve been trying to broach the subject of marriage for some time, but something always seems to interrupt me.”
“But you said nothing the other night…in my room,” Georgiana protested, a blush rising at the memory.
Ashdowne’s smile faded as he studied her soberly. “No, for too much stood between us then. You were quite put out with me, if you remember, and I was certain that you thought me beyond redemption.” He paused, his blue eyes glittering with emotion. “It wasn’t until this morning that I realized you might care for me, in spite of everything, for why else would you lie to save a thief?”
“Why else, indeed?” Georgiana whispered as his gaze took on the dark intensity that she had come to recognize.
“I want you, Georgiana, so badly I think I shall die if I don’t have you,” Ashdowne said, and Georgiana felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. Lifting a hand to her face, he brushed a curl back from her cheek. “I also happen to need you. Ever since I took the title, I’ve faced a life of drudgery and boredom that no one except you has been able to alleviate. And, just in case you might have forgotten, I am sadly in need of reformation, which only someone of your high moral character could possibly attempt.”
Georgiana smiled as his thumb stroked her cheek, scattering most of the reservations she had harbored about marrying a marquis and a former thief. And with his next words, he eradicated the last of them.
“Most significant of all, I love you. I love your beauty and your intelligence, the logical side of you that somehow coexists with your romantic streak, and the sense of adventure you bring to everything you do. I simply must have you beside me, entertaining and delighting me for the rest of my life. In return, I promise to do my best to avoid criminal activities, protect you in all your wild endeavors and—” Ashdowne paused, his voice dipping low “—to entertain you as best I can.”
Georgiana blushed as she imagined just how this man of many talents planned to keep her amused, and she wished they were really, truly alone, instead of standing beneath a tree on a public street.
“What say you, Georgiana? Will you take a chance on me?”
“Oh, Ashdowne!” Heedless of their location, Georgiana threw her arms around him, burying her face against his broad chest. “I love you.”
“Is that a yes?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.
“Yes,” Georgiana whispered, leaning her head back to look up at him. He smiled down at her, his gaze moving from her eyes to her mouth and then to the pale breasts that were pressed against his chest.
He cleared his throat. “But, first of all, I promise to buy you a new wardrobe.”
“That’s not necessary, really,” Georgiana muttered, her skin heating under his perusal as her thoughts wandered far from fashion.
One dark brow lifted as Ashdowne gave her an amused look and put her from him gently. “Wouldn’t you like to get out of those flounces?”
“Uh, yes! Of course!” Georgiana answered, gathering her wits once more.
“I’ve often thought about dressing you,” Ashdowne said, as he placed her hand on his arm and led her from beneath the canopy of leaves. Georgiana’s fingers trembled at his words, and she tried not to think about the night of their wedding—a wedding that she owed, in part, to the persistent questioning of a certain Bow Street Runner. The thought made her pause, a
nd she squeezed her companion’s arm with sudden urgency.
“Ashdowne. I was thinking—” Georgiana began, ignoring his ensuing groan. “Doesn’t it seem strange to you that Jeffries made such a point of targeting you this morning?”
“Yes,” he answered, his tone serious once more.
“I mean when I first suggested your name to him—” Georgiana began, only to be cut off by Ashdowne’s sudden stop. He swung round to stare at her in horror, but she waved his reaction away with an airy gesture. “Oh, that was way back when I first met him, before you became my assistant,” she explained.
When Ashdowne continued to scowl at her, Georgiana made a face. “The point is that Jeffries dismissed my suspicions as ridiculous. And since I’ve not spoken of you since, except in terms of being my assistant, why the sudden interest in you? Is there someone in Bath, besides me, of course,” Georgiana said, flashing him an apologetic smile, “who would suggest your name to Jeffries, indeed, demand that he question you?”
They looked at each other, their thoughts coinciding as they spoke at once. “Savonierre.”
“He’s the only one with enough influence to force Jeffries’s hand,” Ashdowne muttered.
“And make him confront a marquis,” Georgiana added. “And you have no idea why he dislikes you so? He must have some reason to accuse you, for why else would a so-called gentleman of the ton try to send a marquis to the gallows over a piece of jewelry?”
When Ashdowne did not answer, Georgiana frowned. “There has to be more involved than just this incident, for it is all too well contrived. It’s almost as if he set you up, but how? Unless…” She turned to stare, dumbstruck, at Ashdowne. “He knows who you are.”
“Impossible! No one knows,” Ashdowne muttered with his usual arrogance.
“But what if he suspects, and it’s The Cat he’s seeking revenge against?” Georgiana asked. She swung on Ashdowne accusingly. “Did you steal something from him?”
Ashdowne lifted a dark brow in derision. “Although my actions might have been a bit daring at times, I was never that reckless,” he said with a wry grimace before he paused thoughtfully. “However, there was that diamond necklace of Lady Godbey’s…”
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