Scandal's Daughter

by Emma V. Leech

  He turned to her, his face white with restrained fury but he nodded and began to lead her back down the jetty.

  "You should not go alone in the boat with him, Georgiana," Sebastian said as they came closer, his voice full of anger. "Don't you see, you little fool, he wants your reputation shredded so no one else will want you. Your fortune is slender enough temptation against your tenuous position as it is."

  Fury lanced through her as his words struck home. How dare he pretend to care and give advice while he slandered her in the same sentence. Slender enough temptation! Why the arrogant, top lofty ... But before she could think of a suitably cutting rejoinder the duke turned to walk away from them, his face dark with anger. As he passed however, Beau deliberately turned out one elegantly booted foot and Sebastian tripped. Too wrong footed to save himself he plunged off the side of the jetty and ended up hip deep in the Serpentine.

  "Oh I do beg your pardon, your Grace," Beau replied with a malicious glint of satisfaction in his blue eyes. For a moment Georgiana rejoiced in seeing him getting his comeuppance but then she realised what was at stake.

  "Why you ..." Sebastian began and Georgiana looked at him in appalled horror. If he caused a scene now everyone would be talking about them. They would know that she'd come between the duke and his best friend and everyone would say like mother, like daughter. She'd never live it down. She stared at him and gave the slightest shake of her head, pleading in her eyes, please, Sebastian, please don't do it. For a moment all she could see in the gaze that turned to hers was righteous indignation and hurt pride. But then he stilled and the tension fell from his stance. Those dark eyes seemed to warm as he looked at her, and the rumble of laughter that came from him was throaty and delicious, and the most wonderful sound she'd ever heard.

  "Beau," he said, with a wry smile. ""You will be receiving a bill from my tailor and I dare you to ever face my valet again."

  "By all means, Sebastian," Beau returned with a charming smile. "I will put it in a drawer with all the other bills I have been unable to pay."

  They watched as he strode out of the river, the sodden material clinging to his powerful thighs in a most disconcerting manner as gasps of astonishment met him on the bank.

  Although desperately relieved that he'd not made a scene she was still utterly furious about his earlier remarks. Because of it, Georgiana allowed Beau to help her into one of the boats, despite knowing Sebastian was probably right. She shouldn't go with the notorious Marquis, but if the high-handed, top-lofty duke though so little of her ... Oh but she was enraged and hurt and she'd do as she damned well pleased. But she couldn't take her eyes from his dripping figure as people crowded around him to discover what had occurred.

  "That wasn't a very gentlemanly thing to have done, Beau," she scolded, as he handed her into the boat. Though privately she thought it was exactly what the smug devil had required.

  "Oh, hush," he replied, snorting settling himself down and picking up the oars. "You loved seeing him plunge into that cold, muddy water and don't pretend you didn't."

  She sat back in the boat with a sigh and admired the bunch and glide of his powerful shoulders under the exquisite cut of his superfine coat. The sun glinted off his golden hair and she thought she had never seen a more beautiful man. But still her eyes drifted to the bank and the large dark figure of his friend disappearing into the shadows.

  Georgiana trailed her fingertips in the chilly water and wished life wasn't so complicated. Her heart still wanted Sebastian but she was so very angry and hurt at his treatment of her, and his cruel words. That he could blame her mother entirely for the affair, as though his father had possessed no will of his own, and then would compare the two of them in such a way. That had been beyond hurtful.

  He'd meant to hurt her too. But then the way he'd spoken of his father, he'd clearly idolised him. In that she supposed she'd been lucky. She'd never known her parents, for good or for bad, so she'd been saved the heartbreak of losing them. Hers had been a gentler loss, though just as enduring. For although she'd never felt the lack of love through the kind attentions of her aunt and uncle, she had always wished she had known her real parents. She'd seen the loss in Sebastian's eyes though, the fury at the idea his father could have been in any way responsible. He must have been eleven or twelve perhaps when his father had died. An impressionable age for any young man, and devastating to lose the father he'd clearly idolised. The idea softened her heart a little as she realised how dreadfully angry and hurt he would have been, and clearly still was.

  "You're very quiet, Eve."

  She looked up and found Beau watching her. Shaking the water from her fingers she sat up a little straighter and turned her attention back to him.

  "Just wool gathering," she replied, smiling and feeling bad for not giving him her attention.

  "Ah, yes," he said, amusement pulling at the corners of that sensual mouth, a mouth made for kissing and decadent pleasures she thought, and then scolded herself for thinking it at all. He smirked, as though well aware of her train of thought, before carrying on. "It must take a lot of thought I suppose, the question of whom to marry."

  "Well of course it does," she replied, tutting at him. "Though what on earth makes you believe I was thinking about who I'm going to marry?"

  "A wild guess," he replied, his tone dry.

  She looked across the water, glittering in the spring sunshine as more people took to the boats and wandered up and down the banks of the river.

  "Oh look!" she exclaimed, as the huge blue and gold striped balloon began to ascend into the azure skies.

  They watched for a while as the balloon rose higher and higher.

  "What a marvellous view they must have from up there," she said, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand. She looked away blinking as Beau grimaced.

  "I'd rather keep my feet on the ground," he muttered.

  "Oh?" she replied, laughing at him. "Are you not very adventurous? How disappointing."

  He raised one eyebrow at her, a look in his blue eyes that made her skin prickle with awareness. "Oh, but I am extremely adventurous, darling, more than you can possibly imagine," he replied, his voice all silk sheets and candlelight as a slow smile curved over his mouth.

  She blushed, only too aware of what he was referring too and then gasped as small trailing branches dragged past the sides of the boat and they disappeared behind the curtain of a willow tree.

  "Beau!" she exclaimed. "Take us back out immediately, people will think ..."

  "People will think that I'm taking advantage of the moment to kiss you," he supplied for her, settling the oars in the rowlocks. "And they'd be quite right."

  He shifted and she squealed as the boat dipped violently to one side before he settled beside her on the narrow seat and put his arms around her.

  "Beau!" she said again, a warning in her voice as she pushed him back, both hands pressed against the flat of his chest. The crisp clean scent of starched linen and a warm, very male body drifted to her as she looked up at him. "Was Sebastian right? Are you hoping to spoil my chances with anyone else?"

  He laughed, a warm, caressing sound that seemed to glide over her skin.

  "I'd be a fool if I didn't, darling Eve," he replied. "But you're not considering anyone else except Sebastian, and he's not offered for you, has he?"

  She looked away from him, her heart in turmoil. No, he hadn't, though she'd not given him much of an opportunity. But from his words earlier it sounded unlikely that he would. It sounded like he thought loving her was a kind of madness, the kind her father had suffered when he had met her mother.

  "He can't, Georgiana," Beau said, and though his words were harsh they were spoken gently, as though he knew it would hurt and was sorry for it. "After everything his family suffered, and I'm blaming neither party," he added before she could take offence.

  "From all I've heard about it the two of them were madly in love, and if she was anything as lovely as you, darling, I can har
dly wonder at it." She swallowed and refused to look up at him but waited for him to carry on. "But the whole affair destroyed his mother. She was always a nervous sort from what I understand, prone to hysterics and the like. But since then she's been a recluse and she uses her ill health to manipulate her son. If she had the slightest inkling that he was interested in you the shock would likely kill her."

  She did look up then, as her hopes, slim as they'd been, came crashing to the ground.

  Beau was watching her with sympathy in his eyes.

  "Come, Georgiana," he said, reaching out a hand and stroking her cheek. "I know you don't love me, but we are friends, we like each other's company and more than that ... I think you desire me."

  She opened her mouth in shock, though whether to deny it was true she wasn't sure but he just chuckled, amused by her discomfort.

  "Were you going to contradict me?" he demanded, his voice soft with amusement, and then slid his hand behind her neck and pulled her closer, his lips pressing against hers.

  She began to push him away but his lips were soft and warm and very tender and her heart was in turmoil. She knew he was telling the truth, she trusted him in that. Sebastian would never be able to offer her marriage, the most he would ever want from her was to make her his mistress and that she would never do. But Beau was here, he was handsome and clever, funny and unexpectedly kind and yes, he was right, she did desire him.

  There was no denying that as his kiss became more insistent, searching and she opened her mouth to him. The expression, give him an inch and he'll take a mile, came forcefully to mind as he possessed her mouth with a soul stealing kiss that made her tremble with alarm. Good God, she thought as his hands slid over her body, his arms pulling her tighter against him, how could she feel this way for a man she didn't love. The idea that she was perhaps her mother's daughter after all crept into her mind but she pushed it away. She slid her arms around him in return, pressing closer, wanting to forget another man and another place, an autumn idyll that could only ever have been a dream.

  He broke the kiss and looked down at her, his eyes were pleased and heavy with wanting. "You see, sweet Eve," he murmured, dipping his head to trail his mouth along her jaw line, feathering a line of hot little kisses down her neck as his skilled fingers opened the fastenings on her spencer. She gasped as his large hand cupped her breast and his head bent further to press a kiss on the soft rise of her breast just above the neckline of her dress. Closing her eyes as desire flamed to life she felt his thumb rub the peak of her nipple beneath the soft fabric of her gown and bit back a moan.

  "I can please you, Georgiana," he whispered kissing a path over one breast to the other. "I could show you such pleasure. I want to, love ... so badly."

  She drew in a breath as his fingers tweaked her nipple and his head raised to nuzzle the soft skin beneath her ear. "It wouldn't be so bad would it, to be married to me? Friends who desire each other, it's more than many people begin with."

  "Not so bad, no," she murmured, her body alive with sensation, her head dizzy with desire and her poor heart too bruised to allow her to think clearly.

  He paused and grasped her face between his hands. "Is that a yes?" he asked, his voice rough with need.

  "I--," she gasped, and then shook her head. "No, yes ... I don't know!" she exclaimed. "Please, I need time to think. Take me back now, Beau, please I need to ..."

  He pulled her into his arms once more and kissed her ruthlessly, leaving her breathless and flustered as he released her and took his place at the oars once more.

  His eyes on her were intent as he rowed them out from under the tree and she quickly refastened her spencer. She didn't doubt she looked flushed and thoroughly kissed and she raised her chin in defiance at the scandalised glances of another couple who passed close by as they rowed back to shore.

  "That's it, darling," Beau whispered, his glittering gaze warm and approving. "Who gives a damn for what they think. They're all liars and hypocrites after all."

  Chapter 25

  "Wherein proposals are made."

  "What in the name of God were you thinking?"

  Georgiana blanched and stared at the toes of her satin slippers. She didn't know how to answer the earl who was quite obviously at a loss to understand her motivation.

  "Oh, Alex, do stop chastising the poor girl!" Céleste scolded him, coming to sit beside Georgiana and taking her hand. "It is perfectly obvious why she did it after what Lord Sindalton said." She squeezed Georgiana's fingers in a reassuring manner and smiled at her. "I'm so sorry, dearest, truly. But Alex is right, you must 'ave a care."

  "He wants to marry me," she said, effectively stopping the conversation.

  "Lord Beaumont has offered for you?" Alex said in surprise and then glanced at his wife.

  "It's alright," Georgiana replied, smiling. "I'm well aware of his reputation and yes, the only reason he's suddenly desperate to marry is because his creditors are getting impatient to say the least. He was very honest with me. But he is also very entertaining and we're good friends."

  "But you're really considering it?" Céleste demanded, the surprise only too apparent in her eyes.

  She gave her friend a speaking glance. "What choice do I have but to consider it?"

  Céleste had already heard the whole pitiful tale last night. She'd unburdened herself of Sebastian's hateful words, the truth about his mother and why he'd never offer for her ... and Beau's kiss.

  "You don't love him," Céleste said, her voice echoing the sadness visible in her eyes.

  "No," Georgiana agreed. "But not all of us are as lucky as you were, Céleste."

  Her friend's face fell as Lord Falmouth put his hand on his wife's shoulder and they shared a look of such intimacy that Georgiana's stomach clenched with jealousy. That was what she longed for, that unspoken connection, that deep and unbreakable tie that needed no words to prove the depth of its love and regard, and that was what she was never likely to have.

  They looked up as a scratching sound was heard at the door and the butler appeared.

  "My Lord, there is a Lord Nibley to you."

  Lord Falmouth nodded and left the room as Céleste and Georgiana looked at each other in surprise. She gave Georgiana a broad smile. "I think perhaps Beau isn't the only one with marriage on his mind."

  ***

  Twenty minutes later with a scarlet-cheeked Lord Nibley wearing a hole into the carpet, Céleste was proved right.

  Lord Falmouth, judging that Georgiana was in no immediate danger from Percy Nibley, had allowed the man to attend her alone. A fact for which Georgiana wanted to throttle him. She sat demurely, outwardly calm at least, while she ran through all the possible ways of letting the man down gently.

  "I'm sorry, I'm afraid this really isn't my area of expertise," he said, breaking the awkward silence that had been smothering them both for the last interminable five minutes. It had felt like hours. "If I was Beau I'd have something witty and charming to say," he added with a chagrined smile that was really rather endearing. "And if I was Sindalton ..." He shrugged. "Well a duke doesn't have to say much to be impressive does he?"

  Georgiana scowled; that shouldn't be true. She certainly wasn't impressed by his grace. She had loved the impoverished Marquis he'd claimed to be so much more. She wished he'd been a plain Mister more than anything. Someone who didn't have generations of ancestors expecting him to make a brilliant match.

  "Oh dear," he sighed and sat down in the seat beside her. "I'm making rather a mull of this aren't I?"

  She gave him a smile which she hoped was kind but not too encouraging.

  "The thing is, Lady Dalton," he began, and as she looked up at him she found his eyes were serious. "I know you don't love me, I'm not so very foolish as all that," he added with a rather disarming smile. "But I thought perhaps, if I explained a little. You might consider my heartfelt, if not romantic proposal."

  She inclined her head, not having the heart to give him an immediate rejection
before he'd said his piece. The least she could do was listen.

  "The thing is," he said. "Is that I've become most terribly fond of you. You are a lovely young woman who I'd be overjoyed to make my wife. But I've been trying to think what could possibly induce you to marry such a dull fellow."

  "Oh, my Lord!" she exclaimed, for that was too harsh. Yes he was certainly a bookish type and yes her eyes did glaze over when he became particularly enthused in explaining the difference between ignatius, sedimentary and metamorphic rocks. "I cannot allow that, why you are wonderful company."

  He smiled again, deep pleasure showing in his brown eyes as he adjusted his wire framed spectacles. "Well, you're very kind, too kind perhaps," he added, looking down at his shiny boots. "I'm not about to pretend that I can claim any of the attractions of Beau or ... or your other suitors. But ..."

  She waited, realising she did want to know what this curious, rather awkward gentleman thought they could find together. "But I would never embarrass you, my Lady. I would be faithful, reliable and your happiness would always be my foremost concern. I ... I think you know that I am ... well, not so badly situated," he said, obviously finding the subject of his finances distasteful. "So you need never be concerned that your fortune held any lure to me and indeed I would let you keep whatever money is yours as your own and hold no claim to it." He paused and to her astonishment slid to one knee and took hold of her hand.

  "Lady Dalton ... Georgiana," he amended, his rather thin face colouring a little though there was a sincerity in his eyes that made her throat tight. "I admire and respect you. You are the most courageous, charming and perfectly lovely woman I have ever known. I know my limitations only too well but ... if you marry me, I will show you the world. We'll travel and explore and ... and I will give you anything in my power to make you happy, if you would do me the honour of becoming my wife."