“Georgiana, may we speak frankly?”
She suspected what was coming. Questions about her relationship with Charles. “Of course.”
Sarah took her hand and led her to a small settee on one side of the ballroom. “I want you to know that I...I have reservations about your engagement. Please understand that it has nothing to do with you. But, well, I suppose it does, in a way. Until we find out what is behind your ill fortune with husbands, do you really think it is...ah, prudent to be announcing yet another engagement?”
Georgiana sighed. “Not prudent in the least. And I have begged Charles to delay the announcement, but he is determined. He thinks it will be a help to me. He means to draw out the villain, if there is one. Believe me, I have warned him, begged him, threatened him. I have sworn that I will not marry him at all. But he intends to go through with this, no matter what my wishes are in the matter.”
“You could simply refuse him. Tell him that you have no intention of marrying him. Ever.”
She glanced around to be certain they were quite alone before speaking. “I have, in fact, thought of that. But it would make no difference at all. He was determined to help me even before he proposed that we...marry. For some unaccountable reason that eludes me entirely, he has taken on my cause.”
Sarah blinked her wide, violet eyes. “Love, perhaps?”
Oh, how she wished she had not promised Charles she would not divulge their plan! “P-perhaps. All I know is that he will not be dissuaded. I have tried everything I can think of, to no avail. But...”
“But?” Sarah prompted.
“But, please, if you can, change his mind. Should something happen to him, it would be my fault. I could not live with that. “
Sarah sighed heavily and laid her hand over Georgiana’s. “Charles is stubborn. If his mind is set on this course, then he will follow it. But, Georgiana, dear, I would be remiss if I did not remind you that he may have his own enemies. He does not speak of it in front of me, because he knows it would upset me, but last fall when he was shot outside the Argyle Rooms the assailant escaped. The villain is, by all accounts, a very dangerous man, and may still be stalking Charles.”
Georgiana could scarcely comprehend the enormity of this information. Charles had been the other man shot when Adam was killed? Why hadn’t he told her that? She pressed her fingertips to her temples, trying to remember what she’d overheard between Charles and Lord Wycliffe outside the theatre. Gibbons? Was that the name?
“Oh, dear. I’ve upset you,” Sarah said.
Georgiana shook her head. “I simply cannot think straight. There are so many things filling my head that I cannot put them in order. Sarah, why did you not tell me your brother was the other man injured the night Mr. Booth was killed?”
“I thought you knew. Why, it was in all the newspapers a day or two after it happened. The two of them were dear friends.”
By then, Georgiana and Aunt Caroline had been in a coach on the way back to Kent. She shook her head and forced a smile. “It is of little consequence, Sarah. Since Charles did not mention it to me, I imagine he does not wish to discuss the incident. And, truthfully, neither do I.”
“Good, because here come the men. I shall see you Wednesday, if not before. We can discuss it then if you’d like.”
They stood and Charles offered his hand. “I hear a waltz, Georgiana. Will you favor me?”
She placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor and into the dance. He spared an unconcerned glance at the sidelines. “The rumor is already under way, Georgiana. The speculation has begun.”
She noted a few elderly matrons watching them and talking behind their fans. “How could people possibly know? We’ve been here less than half an hour and talked to only a handful of people.”
“It takes less than that to start a rumor in the ton. I did not lower my voice when announcing our intentions to Lord Carlington, and that was enough.”
“I thought they’d at least wait until we left.”
Charles merely laughed. “Are we about to fuel the fire by making our first quarrel public?”
“The whole plan was ill-conceived and a dreadful mistake.”
“Is that you speaking, Georgiana, or my sister?”
“Me! Oh, your sister is dismayed, but she covered her disapproval. She is quite concerned about you.”
His face froze with a frown. “I warned you that might be the case.”
“You’d have done better to warn me who would approve.”
“Do not goad me.”
“I am not goading. I am deadly serious. We must stop this silly rumor at once. I cannot think what convinced me to go along with it.”
“Would you like me to remind you?”
“You took advantage of my desperation. I should never have allowed it.”
“I feel compelled to ask you again, Georgiana. Have you grown fond of me? Are you worried for my well-being?”
She deliberately missed a step and allowed her heel to come down sharply on his instep. A wince and narrowed eyes were her reward.
“Is this how you’ve treated all your fiancés, Georgiana?”
“I treated them as they deserved.”
“Ah, so a cross word was provocation enough to kill?”
Did he really think...? A twisting in her stomach warned her to say no more where they might be overheard. “I have a sudden headache. I would like to go home, please.”
“We’ve scarce arrived.”
“Now.” She left him standing on the dance floor and headed down the corridor to the grand staircase.
* * *
Charles caught up with Georgiana as she entered the street looking for a hackney in the crush of evening traffic and late arrivals for Carlington’s ball. Fortunately his coach was still at the corner. He draped Georgiana’s mantle over her shoulders and took her elbow to guide her toward his vehicle. She looked up at him with such deadly cold that he feared she might pull away and denounce him.
He supposed he deserved that. He really had gone too far with that last accusation. Ah, but her denouncements and unwillingness to go through with their charade had reminded him of her jilt so many years ago. He was dismayed to find that it could still cut so deeply.
A prickling of his skin warned him to glance around. Something in the air was not quite right. Again, that uneasy feeling that something was about to happen. But there was nothing in the crowds surrounding them to cause a threat.
He scanned the sea of milling faces across the street and his gaze caught on one. Despite the beard he’d grown, Charles would know Dick Gibbons anywhere. The man grinned and drew one filthy finger across his neck in an unmistakable threat, then pointed it at him.
He released Georgiana’s arm and stepped in front of her. He had not taken two steps before a passing coach cut him off. By the time it passed, Gibbons had disappeared. Or was he still hiding in the crowds? Should he give chase and abandon Georgiana to her own devices? Or get Georgiana home safely and pursue Gibbons another day?
He turned back to her, finding a perplexed look on her face as she, too, gazed across the street, then back at him. “Who was that?”
He returned and took her arm again. She relaxed ever so slightly and without hesitation allowed him to escort her to the coach and hand her up before calling their destination to his driver.
The coach pulled into the street at once, but immediately stalled in the traffic. “Do you know that man, Georgiana?” he asked without preamble.
To her credit, she did not ask which man. “I have seen him before, I think, though I cannot remember where.”
“Outside the Theatre Royal?”
She frowned. “I...do not think so. Everything happened so fast that I only saw shadows and movements, but I have no recollection of faces.”
Had she seen him when she had hired him to kill Booth?
“Who was it, and what did he want?”
“His name is Dick Gibbons, and he wants to ki
ll me.”
Her little gasp was convincing. “Why? What have you done to him?”
“He thinks I killed his brother.”
“Did you?”
He shrugged. “I would have, given half a chance. I suppose I was the cause of his death, one way or another.”
“That is a very mysterious answer, Charles.”
“The truth is that I did not pull the trigger, but I caused it to be pulled.”
The coach lurched, the driver having apparently found a hole in traffic. They moved ahead slowly but steadily. Georgiana gave him an exasperated look, as if she could not trust a thing he said.
“He killed Adam Booth and wounded me, Georgiana. The question remains, why?”
Her eyes widened. “Adam... But he must have had a reason.”
“And I will uncover that reason. The person responsible will pay, and so will Dick Gibbons.”
“But you said Mr. Gibbons is responsible.”
“He is a thief and an assassin. He kills for money. I want him and the person who hired him. I thought I knew who that was.”
Her eyes widened into two pools of unfathomable green. “He is an assassin?”
“Among other things. He is the vilest of the vile. He is the worst sort of scum London has to offer. Dick and Artie Gibbons would do anything for a tuppence. They robbed, raped, pillaged and murdered their way through London. They were known for their filth and utter lack of morals. Artie is dead, thank God, but Dick needs to be put down like the rabid dog he is.”
He remembered his conversation with Wycliffe before this case began and repeated the words he’d spoken then. “If it’s birthed a Gibbons, you’d do the world a favor to exterminate it before it can spread,” he muttered under his breath.
She had gone quite pale and a deep shudder shook her body. To be fair, he could not picture Georgiana seeking out and meeting a man like Gibbons in a back alley to pay him money to kill someone. There had to be another explanation. He took a deep breath and got a grip on his anger.
“Then...then you think it was him—this Mr. Gibbons—outside the Theatre Royal? And that he wanted to kill you and not me? And that he never had anything to do with my situation?”
Never say never. “Unlikely, Georgiana.”
The silence stretched out for a moment and he finally turned to her to find her fixing him with a cold stare.
“When were you going to tell me this, Mr. Hunter?”
“I did not think it was necessary for you to know. As I said, Gibbons evidently has nothing to do with your situation. We are still searching for that person.”
“And when were you going to tell me that you had your own enemies? Enemies that have nothing to do with my ‘situation’?”
“Never. Unless it affected the investigation into your problem.”
She sat back against the leather squabs, staring straight ahead. Neither of them spoke again until the coach pulled up at Georgiana’s town house. She reached outside the window and opened the door herself. “Thank you for the escort home, Mr. Hunter. No need to see me in.”
But he was fast behind her. He had no intention of allowing her to back out of their arrangement. He waved his driver off and followed her up the steps to the door. Before she could turn the knob, the door opened and Hathaway’s stern visage blocked the passage. Georgiana slipped past him, but Hathaway moved in front of Charles.
Oh, he was not in a mood for this! “Step aside, Hathaway,” he warned.
“I believe Mrs. Huffington is retiring for the night, sir. Good evening.”
He caught a glimpse of Georgiana disappearing into the library, and something snapped when Hathaway began to close the door in his face. He put one arm out to stop the door and the other out to seize Hathaway by his starched collar, twist and slam him against the doorjamb.
“You presume too much, Hathaway. I’ve had enough of your insolence to Mrs. Huffington and her guests. Do not forget who is in charge in this house, or you and I will have words. Do you understand?”
Hathaway’s rheumy blue eyes widened and his mouth went slack. Lack of oxygen? The man could strangle for all he cared, but Hathaway nodded, a look of desperation on his face.
Slowly, Charles released him and pushed past him on his way to the library. “Do not wait up. I’ll show myself out,” he said over his shoulder.
Chapter Nine
Georgiana knew Charles had followed her into the house. She heard the sharp crack of the doorjamb when he confronted Hathaway and almost turned back. That was her fault. If she had dealt with Hathaway herself, this wouldn’t be happening. Oddly, she cared more what Charles thought than she did if Hathaway quit and left her in the lurch.
Hathaway had been Caroline’s servant and he’d always treated Georgiana like an outsider. She had hoped he would adjust in the months since Caroline’s death, but instead he’d grown even more churlish. Doing without his constant insubordination and disrespect might even be a relief.
Still, Charles was presuming far too much where she was concerned. He really had no right to intercede with the servants or to invade her home without invitation. The man needed to be taken down a peg or two.
She went to the sideboard and poured herself a glass of sherry. She’d never needed its calming effects more. One gulp finished the glass and she poured another as the sherry’s heat crept downward to warm her middle. One more and she’d be ready to deal with Charles Hunter.
Alas, there was no time for more. Charles, imposing and angry, came to stand beside her at the sideboard. He chose brandy, and not a small amount, either. More judicious than she, he only sipped.
“Show Hathaway the door, Georgiana. The man is out of control. He works for you. Not the other way ’round.”
“He? He is out of control? You are in quite a foul mood tonight, are you not? From my arrival at the Argyle Rooms to your dressing down of Hathaway, you have been singularly unpleasant. I think you should go.”
He took another drink, larger this time. “Think again.”
“Whatever possessed you to confront him as you did?”
“Someone had to do it and you, apparently, were not going to.”
“You had no right to interfere in my domestic affairs.”
“As your fiancé, I have every right.”
“That is a sham, Charles! Mere subterfuge. I will thank you to remember that.”
He turned to her and took her glass to put it beside his on the sideboard, then pulled her into his arms. “Not as much a sham as you might think. In the eyes of the ton, and your servants, we are now bound to each other. I hope I will not be forced to remind you of that too often.”
He was impossible! “We must end this. I was foolish to agree to such a plan. You have a talent for finding me in unguarded moments.”
“Still not good enough for you, Georgiana? Objectionable? Still lacking in assets? Well, I can think of one thing, at least, in which you do not find me lacking.”
“What—”
He covered her mouth with his, catching her unprepared. She brought her hands up between them, ready to pummel him if necessary. But from the moment his tongue touched hers, she was lost. Her mind became hazy and her knees grew weak. Instead of pummeling, she clung. She knew in some distant part of her brain that he was not going to stop with a kiss, but she didn’t care. The mere memory of what he’d done in the coach was enough to keep her standing there, uncaring of the world around them—for as long as it took him to do it again. To her shame, she wanted to feel that thrilling pleasure. Wanted to feel cherished, to feel as if she belonged to someone or something greater than only herself.
Could she? Could she allow him such liberties and still be whole when he left again? And he would leave. That was what Charles did when he’d gotten what he wanted. But...if he only wanted the conquest, and if she let him have it, he would go away and leave her alone. He would lose interest in his game.
He would be safe from her curse.
Yes, to end the ruse, then.
And more importantly, to prevent him from sharing the fate of her husbands, she’d let him have what he wanted. And pray the loss of him would not be so painful to bear this time.
Selfless of her, really. Even noble.
She surrendered to his kiss, entering into the strange seduction with an abandon she hadn’t realized she possessed. She had given access to her body to her husbands, just as Aunt Caroline instructed, but she had never felt this pull, this compulsion. Nay, desire.
She felt the change in him when he realized that she was no longer resisting. One arm tightened around her and the other wandered down to cup her bottom as he bent slightly to lift her against him.
Where? Oh, dear Lord, where? The settee? The deep carpeting before the fireplace? Her breasts tingled in anticipation of his touch. Of his mouth. She was desperate to feel that again. Desperate to experience that final transporting thrill just before he had stopped. Oh, but tonight, he would not stop. She would not let him.
He headed for the door and she realized his intent. For the first time, she had misgivings. The servants...
But he kissed her again, then nibbled her ear. His breath, hot and moist, caused her to shiver. All thought of denial fled as he started up the stairs, his steps muffled by the carpet.
His voice was low and hoarse when he echoed her unspoken question. “Where?”
“Last door on the right,” she said with a breathless gasp.
Clara opened the door just as they arrived before it. Her eyes grew as round as saucers and she covered her mouth to stifle either a giggle or a cry of shock.
“Good night, Clara” was all that Charles said, but his voice was dark enough to send her scurrying away.
He kicked the door closed behind him and placed Georgiana gently on the bed, kissing her cheeks, her throat and her lips. She reached up and circled his neck, but he disengaged her arms as he sat back. “Let me enjoy this, Georgiana. I think you owe this much to me for all the sleepless nights you’ve caused.”
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