A Daring Liaison

by Gail Ranstrom

  Those words were piercingly sweet and utterly satisfying. She did not have to ask twice. He found her as surely as the stars point true north. Her thighs quivered as he entered her. She was heated and tight, her inner muscles gripping him in a snug velvet fist. He lifted and sank again, this time deeper. She fit herself to accommodate him again and again until she was writhing and keening as her inner muscles contracted rhythmically and tears trickled into the dark blond masses of hair beneath her.

  And, at last, his control snapped. A kaleidoscope of rapture, pleasure and pain controlled him, overwhelmed him as he drove deeper into her one last time in a shattering finish unlike any he’d ever experienced.

  When he was coherent again, when Georgiana’s eyes opened in sated wonder, he said, “And that, my love, was completion.”

  * * *

  Georgiana propped herself up against a mound of pillows and watched Charles dress. Broad chest, narrow hips and long legs all disappeared beneath proper clothing, but she would never look at him the same, clothed or not. She thought she’d always see him as he’d been last night—strong, confident, skilled and so very handsome. And so very...knowing. The dark shadow of his whiskers only added to his utterly masculine charm.

  He turned to her as he tied an elaborate knot in his cravat. He smiled and his fingers faltered for a moment. “Damn, Georgiana. Must you look so tempting? I have half a mind to come back to bed.”

  She glanced at the slice of sun intruding through a gap in the draperies and stretched languorously. She did not want him to leave, anyway. “You may as well stay. Too late to fool the neighbors now.”

  He laughed. “With any luck, they will think I’ve paid an early call. But it will not matter soon.”

  “No? Why? Do you know who has been killing my husbands?”

  “Not yet. But we shall be married by this time tomorrow.”

  She giggled. “What are we going to say? That we acquired a special license?”

  “I did. We are now permitted to marry without banns at any time and place of our choosing.”

  “Quite thorough of you, Charles, and rather expensive. But do you really think anyone will inquire at the Archbishop’s office to see if we’ve told the truth?”

  He sighed deeply, as if preparing himself for unpleasant news. A few steps had him at her bedside. He took her hands and brought each one to his lips for a tender kiss. “Georgiana, I have business to be about today. First, I am going to my local parish to arrange to be married tomorrow. Then I hoped to collect you so that we may inform my family and ask them to witness our vows. Afterward I have an appointment to interview a man who might have useful information. Oh, and Lord Carlington has invited us to dine at his home tonight. I hope you do not mind that I accepted for us both.”

  “Mind?” She could scarcely think, let alone form a protest. “Marriage? Will your minister perform a mock ceremony? Surely that must violate some ecclesiastical ethic, Charles.”

  “Nothing mock about it, my dear. We will be married. In law and in God’s eyes.”

  “No! I mean...no. I cannot marry. And certainly not you.”

  “I will not leave you to fend for yourself another day. Even Finn must sleep sometime. After our vows I intend to move your household to mine. My servants are used to keeping a lookout for trouble. And cheer up, my dear. If your luck holds true, you shall not be married for long.”

  Ice formed somewhere in the region of her heart. How could he even jest about such a thing? “You will be hard-pressed to marry me, Charles Hunter, when I am standing there saying no.”

  He smiled and caressed her cheek. A tingle of desire spiraled upward to firm her breasts. “Last night you said you wanted me, Georgiana. I took you at your word. You certainly did not act as if you found me unacceptable.”

  She leaned her head against his chest and held on to his shirtsleeves. “Charles, I am terrified for you. I have wished from the beginning that I had not let you goad me into our ridiculous agreement.”

  “Nevertheless...”

  “No.”

  “The only one trying to kill me at the moment is that scum-dwelling sewer rat, Dick Gibbons. That will not change whether we marry or not.”

  He lifted her chin and smiled. “If I can keep you nearer, we will both be safer, Georgiana. I find that I am always trying to keep an eye on you, and that distracts me. Aside from that, there are other forces afoot. My name may offer you a measure of protection—privilege, if you will—should the worst happen.”

  The worst? Should he die? But his deep violet eyes were so clear and convincing that she could almost believe him. “What forces, Charles?” He blinked and she knew he was searching for words. They must be very dire indeed if he did not want to voice them.

  “For one, we’ve been intimate. You could be with child even now.”

  Shocked, she glanced down at her stomach, suddenly foreign territory to her. With child? How she would love to have Charles’s baby. Warmth crept through her every fiber at the mere thought.

  “I warn you, Georgiana, I will not father a bastard. My child will be mine. Recognized and raised by me. My heir. A Hunter.”

  Her resolve began to crumble. “And when it’s over? When we’ve discovered the truth? And if I am not with child? By then you’d be stuck with me.”

  “A burden I am willing to bear,” he said with a grin.

  Married. She was going to be married. Again. But this time she wanted it with her whole heart. And was terrified of the consequences. But she could see his determination in every line of his body. She sighed and nodded. “Yes.”

  His grin widened and he hugged her so tightly she was barely able to breath, then shrugged into his waistcoat and jacket. “I shall be back at two o’clock to take you to Lockwood’s house.”

  “Please, Charles, tell them alone. They will have concerns and will want to be free to voice them in a way they would not if I were present.” She feared that Sarah, most of all, would feel betrayed by this development. No doubt she would never have agreed to help her if she’d thought her brother would be at risk. “I would not start our marriage with their resentment.”

  “If you are certain.”

  “There are things I should take care of, too. I have been putting off dealing with Aunt Caroline’s personal bequests and I will need to gather her papers if I am to remove to your home.”

  He studied her face for a moment and she knew he wanted to protest. In the end, he saw the sense in her request. “If you wish. Then I shall call at seven to take you to Carlington’s.”

  * * *

  The wide white door opened and Georgiana handed the butler her calling card. A moment later he opened the door wider to admit her and Finn, who had been lurking at her back all day. “Lady Aston will see you, Mrs. Huffington.”

  Surprised, she gave Finn a nod to wait for her by the door before she followed the butler down a wide corridor to another door on the right. She’d only meant to leave her card and perhaps make an appointment for a later date. Calling unannounced was discourteous, Aunt Caroline had always told her.

  A flood of warm afternoon light spilled into the corridor and temporarily blinded Georgiana as she stepped inside wondering what she might expect.

  “Ah, you’ve come at last, Mrs. Huffington,” a well-modulated voice spoke as a woman came toward her, her hand extended in welcome. “I have been expecting you since I learned of dear Caro’s death.”

  Georgiana’s vision cleared and she smiled. She’d seen this handsome woman at various functions in the past, but they hadn’t been introduced and she hadn’t realized that Lady Aston had an acquaintance with her guardian. She appeared to be of Caroline’s age. “I am sorry if I’ve kept you waiting,” Georgiana murmured as she took the offered hand and dropped a quick curtsy.

  The woman laughed and Georgiana instinctively liked her. No wonder her aunt had not given up their friendship, even if it had been through correspondence since her accident.

  “No need. I have not be
en on pins and needles, my dear.” She waved at a grouping of chairs. “I knew you’d come to me sooner or later. Please sit down. I’ve asked Franklin to bring tea.”

  Georgiana removed her gloves and perched on the edge of a chair facing Lady Aston’s. “I shan’t stay long, Lady Aston. If you were expecting me, I presume you know why I’ve come?”

  “I do, indeed. You’ve brought me something, have you not?”

  Georgiana opened her reticule and removed the packet she’d found with Aunt Caroline’s will. “Her instructions were emphatic that I should deliver it into your hands only and that only you should open it. I shall step out of the room if you wish, Lady Aston.”

  She waved airily. “Not necessary, Mrs. Huffington. I believe I know what the letter contains.” She slipped a tapered fingernail beneath the seal, opened the packet and dumped the contents onto her lap.

  A small brooch studded with tiny sapphires and diamonds flashed shards of light as the sunbeams reached it. Georgiana recognized it as one her aunt had often worn. She must have put it in the packet on their last visit to town. Then a folded piece of parchment emerged. Lady Aston unfolded the page and read, nodding at intervals.

  Georgiana knew that she was to stay until the packet had been opened lest there be any questions, and now she wondered what questions Lady Aston might have. The whole thing seemed so mysterious.

  After Lady Aston refolded the page and slipped it back into the packet, she lifted the little brooch and turned it in her hand, a melancholy smile hovering at the corners of her mouth. “Caro was given this by her father upon her completion of school. I always admired it so and she promised it would be mine one day. I had completely forgotten until I saw it again. How very like her to keep her promises to the end.”

  “She was always a woman of her word,” Georgiana agreed.

  “She was also lively and popular. Of all of us at Mrs. Horn’s school, she was most likely to marry well. Then...the tragedy. How very sad for a life so full of promise to end that way.”

  Georgiana studied the stitching on her gloves to cover the quick tears that stung her eyes.

  “Yet she wrote of you so often, Georgiana, if I may call you that?”

  “Of course, Lady Aston.”

  “You were her chief interest in life after her father died and she fetched you home. Her letters were full of the news of your accomplishments and successes. And I can see for myself that she did not lie about how beautiful you are.”

  She never realized that Aunt Caroline had bragged of her. That knowledge was bittersweet. It would have been nice to know while Caroline was still alive. “Thank you.”

  The thought suddenly occurred to her that, if Lady Aston had been at school with Lady Caroline, perhaps she had known Georgiana’s mother, too. “Did...did you know my mother, Lady Aston?”

  “I loved her like a sister. She was my best friend,” the woman said, her tone lowering with sadness. “And she remained my best friend until she died six months ago.”

  “Six...” Georgiana could not comprehend that statement. Her mother had died two-and-twenty years ago. Aunt Caroline had died six months ago. Aunt Caroline...

  Lady Aston leaned forward and patted Georgiana’s hand. “I see you have caught my meaning.”

  Georgiana’s pulse raced and she felt peculiarly light-headed. “Aunt Caroline was...was...”

  “She was. Her father would not allow her to keep you. He removed Caroline from their home before her condition began to show and took you away the moment you were born. It was almost three years before Caroline found you. Once her father died, she brought you home.”

  “But she was not married.”

  “It happens that way, sometimes, Georgiana. I did not judge Caroline, and neither must you.”

  Her mind reeled at this revelation. “I am...a bastard.”

  “Tch! No one must know that, dear. Caroline took every precaution that you were protected from that stigma. I am the only one Caroline told, and you are the only one I will ever tell. That is what was in this letter, you know—not the truth itself, but her request that I finally tell you the truth. The facts themselves are not written anywhere.”

  Then this was why Aunt Caroline had instructed her to wait until the letter had been read. “She...she could have, should have, told me.”

  “She did not want you to know while she was still alive. She was ashamed and could not have endured your disgust. You see, she did not know she was with child when she had her accident. By the time she recovered sufficiently to realize, well, she was devastated by her appearance and had decided to retire from society. She swore to me that there was never a question of marrying your father.”

  “My father? Who was my father?”

  “I am certain that was another thing Caroline would never have wanted to tell you. She never said, though I have my suspicions.”

  “Who?”

  But Lady Aston merely shook her head. “I cannot say. If I am wrong it would be a grave disservice to the man in question, and a stain upon Caroline’s honor.”

  But all Georgiana could think was that her own mother had never told her the truth. Had never desired that relationship. The closeness that only two people of the same blood could share. Georgiana had mourned the loss of a mother and father who had never existed. Her stomach twisted into a knot at the knowledge that she’d been so thoroughly deceived by the only person she’d ever trusted.

  “It is not so very unusual, my dear. Why, it happens all the time, and in the best of families. Often the error is discovered in time to rectify with a quick marriage. Other times, the mother must go away and bear her secret alone. But Caroline was exceedingly careful to construct a history for you that would allow you to enter society and to marry well.”

  Yes, and it also explained why she’d always felt like a “duty” and why her guardian—her mother—had never been able to love her. Georgiana had been a constant reminder of her mother’s shame. Hot tears trickled down her cheeks and she pulled a handkerchief from her reticule to blot them away. She had to get away. Had to think what to do.

  She stood and wadded her hankie into the palm of her hand. “I beg your pardon, Lady Aston, but I really must be going. So much to do, you know. I was to marry Charles Hunter tomorrow, and I must find him to stop it.”

  Lady Aston came to her feet, too. “No, my dear. That would be a very good marriage for you. The Hunters are an excellent family, respected and well thought of.”

  “A good marriage for me, perhaps. Better than I could expect. But Charles? I think not, Lady Aston. Illegitimate children are rarely accepted in the ton.”

  “No one will ever know you are illegitimate. You are of excellent stock as Lady Caroline Betman’s daughter. I beg you, Georgiana, do not do anything rash. Think of all Caroline sacrificed to keep your secret safe. Mr. Hunter need never know. Promise me you will ponder this before you act.”

  “I promise,” she said. In truth, she’d have promised anything to escape that house and unravel this web of deceit.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Charles knocked on the door of a small cottage in St. John’s Wood. Praying the address was correct and the man was still alive, he breathed a little easier when an elderly man with silvered hair peeked around the panel and smiled. “Something I can do for you?”

  “Are you Tom Clark?”

  He nodded. “I am. And who might you be?”

  “Charles Hunter, of the Home Office. I’d like to talk to you about one of your old cases.”

  “Call me Tom,” the man said, opening the door wider to admit Charles, then led him into a small room inside the tidy cottage and waved at two chairs set before a fire.

  “Thank you for seeing me, Tom.”

  “Not too many people come looking for information about things that happened back then. What case is it?”

  “I found your name in a file, Tom,” he explained as he settled in the chair. “I gather you were one of the first to arrive at the accident.”


  “What accident was that, sir?”

  “A coaching accident involving a young woman—Lady Caroline Betman.”

  The man frowned as if he was trying to recall the incident. Then his face cleared and he ran his gnarled fingers through his hair. “That wasn’t an accident,” he said.

  “The report says that the coach overturned as it came around a corner. Speculation had it that the driver was going too fast.”

  “Aye. That was the story. And the driver was dead, so there weren’t no arguing the point.”

  This piece of news was interesting, but could this man’s memory be trusted? “And you think it was not an accident?”

  “Stake my life on it, sir. One of the worst cases I ever worked.”

  Charles sat back in the chair. This was a surprise. He hadn’t expected to learn anything so very different from the facts in the file. “Then why do the files say—”

  “It’s who she was, sir. A lady. A peer’s daughter. Nobody wanted a scandal. And I was ordered not to talk. Ever.”

  “Your secret is safe within these walls, Tom. We are on the same side here. Lady Caroline passed away six months ago, and her father a few years after the accident. No one could be hurt by the truth now.”

  Tom looked down at his hands, resting in his lap. “Then why is it important?”

  “It concerns a case I am working on. I think there may be a connection. At the very least, I need to determine if your case has any bearing or effect on the one I am investigating.”

  “Don’t know how...”

  “Neither do I, but there are some circumstances that are the same.”

  “I hope not. The Betman case was awful. Tragic.”

  Charles tented his fingers and waited. He sensed that Tom wanted to talk but was still wrestling with his conscience.

  After a moment the man sighed and looked up again. “Me and Frank Grayson were first ones there. Someone put a ramp on the inside corner so that when a coach turned the corner, one side of the wheels would raise and it would tip. It wasn’t no accident, sir. It was a robbery. The driver was already dead, but not from the wreck. Somebody slit his throat. Blood everywhere. Everywhere.”