Heavy hands held her shoulders still. Where had he put the knife?
“Calm down. I’m going to cut the bush. I assume you have no objection to traveling home with a twig or two in your coiffure?”
“Of course not.” Now she felt ridiculous.
He retrieved the knife from the ground and leaned into the limbs behind her. They were going to leave quite a dent in the hedge, along with the ruined clothing. It would certainly give the servants something to talk about in the morning. A few quick tugs and she felt the pressure on her head release. She moved several steps away, shaking out her skirt and smoothing her hair as best she could, which wasn’t well given her new accessories. “Which way do you think?”
He looked both ways and then pointed. “Let’s try that way. I’m pretty sure we’re on the opposite side of where we went in.”
They walked, Colin adjusting his steps to match her own. He was very considerate like that. She was very thankful he’d come along. Despite her attempts to wrangle him, he could easily have declined, as evidenced by the way he detoured the coach in London.
He dropped the knife back into the bag. That was as good a topic of conversation as anything else. She cleared her throat. “Where did you get the bag?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Playing again, are we? Very well. I stopped by Ryland’s and borrowed it from his parlor maid.”
She hadn’t been thinking of starting the game again, but if he wanted to . . . Wait, what had he said? “His . . . Marshington’s parlor maid picks locks? Does he know this?”
“I’m fairly certain he taught her.”
Interesting. But still not as intriguing as the fact that Colin possessed such a skill. “Who taught you?”
“That’s another question.”
The grass felt soft under her feet, like the plushest of rugs. With the warm night air and just enough moonlight to keep it from being oppressively dark, she found she was comfortable. Right now there was no risk that anyone would discover her secret, even if she were to talk about it. She’d never felt so free. Even alone in her room with Harriette there was the chance that another maid would enter, or even her mother. She’d never truly been alone before. She was safe. “Ask me anything.”
He seemed to consider his words for several steps. His speech was slow when it finally came. “How is it your family doesn’t know about . . . you know?”
“My deformity?”
He put a hand on her arm to pull her to a stop, bringing her attention to his scowling face. “Don’t call it that.”
“My shortcoming? My failing?”
His lips thinned. They started walking once more. “Your inconvenience.”
An interesting choice of words. She considered the fact that she was in slippers instead of boots inconvenient. As was the fact that, should they encounter Lord Howard on the grounds, her white dress would give them away instantly. Her inability to read, however, always seemed much more of a hindrance than a mere inconvenience. “Harriette.”
Wrinkles deepened across his forehead. “Harriette?”
“My lady’s maid.” Georgina trailed a finger along the edge of a blooming rose as they passed. “I was six before I realized that everyone didn’t struggle the way I did. I thought getting the letters to stay in one place was part of learning to read. My governess thought I was lazy and spoiled. So I used that and insisted on having my own lady’s maid. Mother thought it was adorable, especially when I chose Harriette.”
“Harriette is quite young herself.”
Georgina nodded, wondering once more what would have become of Harriette if she hadn’t joined Georgina. “Two years older than me. She lived in the village. I took a book out to the lake one day to see if I could read it without anyone around. She found me and waited for me to try. When it didn’t work, she read the book to me.”
“And you asked for her as your maid.”
“She was brilliant. Took my lessons with me and everything. We would trade slates when the governess wasn’t looking. She called Harriette horrible things. Harriette tried to tell me Miss Winston didn’t really think those things, it was just because Harriette was a nobody from the village, but I knew. I knew every word she said was really meant for me.”
Where were these words coming from? She’d never even admitted such a thing to Harriette before, wasn’t even sure she’d admitted as much to herself. But it was true. Georgina had felt the weight of every disparaging remark that had been directed at the maid. Even her mother hadn’t understood why Georgina kept insisting that Harriette was the perfect companion, had gently suggested that perhaps Harriette wasn’t suited to the aristocratic life, even as a lady’s maid.
“And now?” Colin’s gentle voice broke through Georgina’s memories.
She glanced at Colin. Here, finally, was someone who could know exactly how smart and loyal Harriette was. “She does all of my writing. Reads me the society pages every morning and goes through all of my correspondence. I don’t know what I would do without her.”
“Where was she when Jane’s letter came?”
“On laudanum for an injured ankle.” Now that Jane was found, Georgina could smile at the memory of Harriette’s antics. The woman did not handle her medicine well.
They walked in silence. If the sun had been shining and they weren’t in imminent danger of being caught in a compromising situation of questionable legality, it would almost have seemed they were taking a stroll through her garden in London. What would it be like to take such a stroll with Colin? The conversation was certainly coming more easily than—
“Well, that’s a problem.”
Georgina looked up from her toes to find they’d come upon a wall. A wall with no gate in sight. “A walled garden, perhaps?”
Colin nodded. “With any luck we’re already in it and jumping this wall will get us out.”
Georgina swallowed hard. The wall was brick that had been mortared into a completely smooth surface. Not even a vine of ivy dared to mar the surface. “Jump it?”
He bent his legs and cupped his hands together. His jacket pulled taut across his shoulders. “Give me your foot and I’ll boost you up. Then I’ll climb up and lower you down the other side.”
Georgina looked from Colin to the wall and back again. “Have you lost your mind?”
“Unless you would like to try going through the house again. I, for one, would like to make it back to the carriage before sunrise.” He nodded toward his cupped hands. “Your foot?”
She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t place her foot in his hands and, well, jump over his head. Everything she’d done for the past twelve years had been to create the image of a dignified, sophisticated, perfect young lady. This would be scandalous.
It’s only a scandal if anyone knows about it.
Why did she have to spend the evening dealing with two Colin McCraes? That was insupportable. She needed to get back to London.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Georgina lifted her skirt, wincing at the mud and grass stains crawling along the hemline. Her slippers were ruined as well. She slid her foot into his joined hands. Until that moment she hadn’t known she was cold, had in fact thought the night rather warm, but the heat that cocooned her foot left the rest of her shivering. She looked down on his head as she placed her hands on his shoulders, curling her fingers into his coat to keep from running them through the mess of reddish brown curls.
He looked up, probably to make sure she was ready, and their eyes met. She was close enough to see the individual lashes, feel the mingling of their breath. If she brushed her lips against Colin’s, what would it feel like? Would that incredible warmth that surrounded her foot and seeped through her hands find its way to her lips as well?
“Up we go,” she said brightly before she could give in to the temptation.
Colin lifted her, and she immediately felt the sensation of falling. She bit her lip to keep from squealing but couldn’t prevent herself from wrapping her arms around his hea
d in a fit of self-preservation.
Once Colin was upright, he waited silently while she searched for the nerve to unwind herself and reach for the top of the wall. It was only a foot or two over Colin’s head, easily reachable from her position if she could convince herself to let go of his jacket.
“All you have to do is sit on the wall. I’ll do the rest.” Colin slid one hand up to her knee and hoisted her higher, forcing her to sit on the wall or topple headfirst over his shoulder.
Once her backside was settled, she actually felt quite secure. Secure enough to smile down at Colin, who was rubbing his hands over his face and mumbling. Wait, was he praying? As if God was going to help them out of this mess. If He’d wanted to intervene, He could have let them flee through a door that led to a corridor instead of the dressing room.
Finally Colin looked at her, then down at her ankles peeping out from her skirt. There was nothing she could do about it in her current position. Considering he’d had his hand halfway up her skirt—something she was truly trying not to think about—she didn’t see why a bit of ankle would send him into a panic now. “Are we going to stay here all night?”
Colin groaned before jumping and throwing his arms along the top of the wall. He grunted, working his feet up the wall until he could throw a leg over. He sat up, breathing hard.
“Very impressive.” Georgina grinned.
“Hmmm.” Colin grabbed her under the arms. Really, was there anywhere this man’s hands weren’t going to go this evening?
There was no gentle coaxing this time. He tugged her to him and flipped her legs to the other side of the wall as if she were a rag doll. With one leg on either side of the wall, he leaned over and dangled her along the back side of the wall. Then he let go.
Georgina sucked in her breath to scream, but then her feet were on the ground. It couldn’t have been more than a few inches.
Colin swung his other leg over and dropped down beside her. “Onward.”
He stomped off and Georgina scrambled after him. “Were you a spy too?”
“What?” He looked confused, but at least his pace settled back down to something she could keep up with.
“It’s my turn to ask a question. You and Ryland are close enough that you stood up with him at the wedding. Were you a spy?”
“No.”
She waited for him to expound. While he had, strictly speaking, answered her question, they’d embellished on all the other ones.
After several moments of silence, Georgina pressed for more. “How do you know Ryland, then?”
He glanced at her but quickly turned his face away. “That’s another question.”
“Ask me one, then.” She would give his question a curt response as well, and they’d be right back to him within seconds.
“What were you thinking back there, before I threw you up on the wall?”
Georgina stumbled. Had he noticed her intention to kiss him? Was it something she’d done? Did a person change when they thought about kissing? She’d never had to worry about it before. Not that there hadn’t been a man or two who wanted to take her aside for a stolen kiss, but she had merely sidestepped the situations. She had no way of knowing if she would be a good kisser, and she would not risk her reputation in order to find out. Now she was wishing she’d tried to study the subject a bit more. She always figured that by the time it mattered she would already be married or at least engaged.
She glanced at Colin. At some point they had both stopped and were standing in the quiet, waiting on her to answer. She opened her mouth to tell him the truth. It was what she’d been doing all evening, and part of her wanted to hold on to the novelty, to let him be the one person she never lied to. But her tongue couldn’t form the words. “Er, that I had no idea I was afraid of heights.”
“I met him in Spain.” He started walking again.
He knew she was lying. She didn’t know how she knew he knew, but she did. Otherwise he’d have given a more complete answer.
Georgina took in a deep breath, oddly compelled to know how he’d met the duke and knowing that now was her only opportunity. She bartered with her tongue for a partial truth instead of a complete lie. “I wondered how your hair would feel.”
It was his turn to stumble. “My hair?”
She nodded but kept walking, using the motion as an excuse to keep her face averted. “Is it soft? It curls in the most interesting way. Griffith’s and Trent’s hair just sort of lays there. Yours seems to have . . . life.”
He tipped his head sideways as they rounded the corner of the house. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”
“No, I think I’d rather not.”
He smiled at her as he straightened, the tension seemed to leave his shoulders, and he strolled beside her once more instead of stomping. “My father owns a shipping company. I hitched a ride to Spain and ended up stumbling into the middle of a group of people trading slaves for guns. I didn’t know what to do, but I couldn’t leave those people. I tried to free them, but the traders caught me instead, throwing me in with the lot.”
Georgina sucked her breath in. This was not the fun story she was expecting. “And Ryland was there?”
Colin nodded. “He was . . . one of the traders. But not really. He was trying to get information. Some of the slaves had come from one of Napoleon’s palaces. They already had a plan in place to try to get the slaves free, but it wasn’t foolproof, and I’d managed to make the gun men angry.”
“Ryland saved your life?”
“At the possible expense of his own, yes. It was close. Ryland and another spy were shot, but the slaves scattered across the port. I hope they managed to find work or make their way home. Spain was no longer safe for Ryland and his cohorts. So I smuggled them onto my ship in packing crates. I spent the trip back to England slipping them food and medical supplies. I’ve never been so scared. The captain barely tolerated having me on board. I didn’t know what he’d do if he found stowaways.”
This incident, the way he talked about it, was about much more than meeting Ryland. It had changed something in him. It couldn’t be a coincidence that he’d been living in London since it occurred. Georgina’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Have you been home since?”
His gaze snapped to meet hers, and his response was immediate. “Have you considered telling your family?”
“There you are!” Trent burst through the trees and wrapped Georgina in his arms. “I’ve been so worried. I started to go back in the house three times, but I don’t have Colin’s bag of tricks and there were no open doors or windows. The place is locked up tight.”
Colin clapped Trent on the shoulder. “We had to go the long way around. Lord Howard is out searching for Lady Jane. I was a bit worried he would have found you.”
Trent shook his head. “He tore down the main drive on a horse a while ago and took the road toward the village. He must think Lady Jane headed there to find assistance.”
Georgina glanced around but saw no one besides the three of them. “Where is Jane?”
Trent gestured toward the trees behind him. “Sleeping in the carriage.”
Colin filled Trent in on the basics of their adventure, leaving out a few details such as their encounter with the wall. Georgina didn’t correct him.
They reached the carriage, and she climbed in to arrange herself on the seat next to her friend while Trent and Colin saw to waking the coachman and helping him reharness the horses.
In minutes they were barreling back down the road toward London. With every mile, she made the conscious effort to pull her mind away from the man sitting across the carriage. Their walk through the garden had been the most relaxing, enjoyable time she’d had in years. It was a luxury she couldn’t afford, though, because it had also been the most frightening. Colin couldn’t keep her safe. Colin couldn’t make people overlook her eccentricities. Colin wasn’t the man she needed.
Georgina avoided his gaze as the conversation faltered. Trent’s snores were soon
mingling with Jane’s heavy breathing, leaving Georgina alone with Colin, but not as alone as they’d been mere hours earlier. The urge she felt to continue their game scared her. The questions had been venturing into things so personal she didn’t even talk about them with Harriette, and yet . . .
These urges were dangerous. Too dangerous to toy with anymore. It was time for Colin to stop being Colin.
They pulled up to a modest town home a few streets over from St. James’s Square. What were they doing here? The door swung open and Colin rose from his seat. He lived here? Not in rented rooms or a hotel, but in a terraced house? Would she ever cease being surprised by what she learned about him?
He caught her eye before he stepped down from the carriage. The first rays of the rising sun hit his face through the open door. “Good morning, Georgina.”
She swallowed and felt her heart hit her toes. “Good-bye, Mr. McCrae.”
Chapter 21
It was a shame, really, that one couldn’t go to the store and buy a play to watch at home like one could purchase a book. Maybe then there wouldn’t be so many conversations about popular books at ton gatherings. Georgina could certainly do with a few less of them.
“She was a complete simpleton for holding out on Mr. Collins.” Lady Theodora Clayton stuck her nose in the air, disdain dripping from her voice as if she were talking about a real person.
“Nonsense. What were his lofty connections going to gain her?” Georgina snapped her fan open as she vocalized her opinion. She’d spent most of the day sleeping off her midnight adventures but had woken in time to prepare for tonight’s gathering. Sleeping through the day had kept her from missing Harriette too much, though Margery had told her that Harriette insisted she’d be back in the morning.
Georgina hadn’t really felt up to the effort of a gathering such as this one, but when they’d deposited Jane at her house, she’d begged Georgina to come tonight. Jane had to attend to quell any rumors that might have started from her journey. She insisted she couldn’t face the evening without Georgina.
An Elegant Façade (Hawthorne House Book #2) Page 21