The Rake (29 page)

He slowed at once, allowing her to draw even, but his jaw was clenched so hard she didn't think he could have spoken even if he'd wanted to. Well, if there was one skill she'd learned from the duchess, it was how to talk about nothing until the other person felt comfortable enough to speak in turn.

"I meant to tell Edward last night," she began, "that he should sign and date all of his drawings. When he looks back on them later, they'll have more value to him if he knows when he drew them."

"I have trouble remembering things myself, sometimes," he said in his low, quiet voice.

Success.
"So do
I
, though it depends on what it is," she returned, after giving him a moment to continue if he chose to. "I'm good with faces, but as for what happened where and who said what, my mind has more holes in it than a yard of lace."

"I doubt that, but thank you for saying it." He took a breath, letting it out in a sigh. "Did I ever ask you to marry me?"

"No. You were one of the few who didn't."

"I was an idiot."

She chuckled, though a breath of uneasiness went through her. Being involved with his brother was difficult enough, and she didn't want to hurt him. "You were—and are—refreshingly independent."

"So independent I can't make myself leave the house, most days."

"You're here today."

What might have been a smile touched his mouth. "You like Dare today. I wasn't sure you'd want to talk with me, tomorrow."

"I would always talk with you, Robert. No matter what might happen between Tristan and
myself
."

He nodded. "Good. And you can always talk to me. I'm told I'm a good listener." Bit glanced at her sideways from beneath long black eyelashes, as though to make certain she understood that he was teasing.

"You haven't lost your sense of humor, I see."

"Not entirely."

They had reached the east edge of Hyde Park, teeming with riders and coaches in the late morning. Though he didn't say anything about it, she could sense that he was growing more and more uneasy at the sight of the crowds. "Have you ever had a pastry at Johnston's?" she asked.

"No."

"I'll buy you one, then." Georgiana headed south, angling away from the park.

"No. I need to go." A muscle in his cheek jumped, his stance equal parts wary and angry—at himself, she thought. The
Carroways
were proud men, and he had to hate that she could see his distress.

They turned back along Regent Street, walking side by side in silence, Josephine trailing behind them. She wanted to ask Bit if there was a particular reason he'd decided to come by today, or if he had some specific thing he wanted to tell her. Yet she didn't want to drive him away or make him uncomfortable enough that he wouldn't want to return.

Once they reached Hawthorne House, she had a groom bring Robert's horse back around. "I am glad you came by," she said. "And I'm serious; anytime you feel like chatting, I will be available."

His deep blue eyes held hers for a long moment, leaving her with the unsettling feeling that he could read her thoughts. "You're the only one who doesn't make me feel like Pinch," he finally said.

She frowned.
" 'Pinch
?' "

"You know, from
The Comedy of Errors
.
'
They brought one Pinch, a hungry lean-faced villain, A mere anatomy, a mountebank, A threadbare juggler, and a fortune-teller, A needy, hollow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch; A living-dead man.' "

The
quote,
and the deep, flat tone of his voice unsettled her. "For someone who says he has trouble remembering things, you recalled that quite well."

The faint almost-smile touched his mouth again,
then
vanished in a shudder. "I spent seven months in a French prison. I memorized that play; an old playbook was the only thing we had to read. We
were ..
.
encouraged
to remain silent.
At all times."

"Robert," she murmured, reaching a hand toward him.

He backed away. "There is ... nothing worse. Don't let yourself be trapped, Georgiana, whether it means being with Tristan or not being with him. Don't give in because it's easier. If you do, there's nothing left. That's what I came to tell you." He swung up on his horse and clattered down the drive.

Disquieted, Georgiana sat down on the front steps. Robert didn't say much, but when he did... "My goodness," she whispered.

Awful as what he'd said had been, it did help clarify matters. She wouldn't allow someone else to dictate how she lived the rest of her life. Amelia Johns had something that didn't belong to her—and Georgiana meant to get it back.

The
Johns's
butler showed Georgiana into a downstairs sitting room, where a dozen young ladies of Amelia's age sat giggling and eating sandwiches.

Amelia rose to greet her, a smile on her pretty oval face. "Good afternoon, Lady Georgiana. I never expected to see you here."

"Well, I needed a moment to chat with you about something, Miss Johns," Georgiana said, feeling ill at ease. Other than Tristan, Amelia was the only person who knew what she'd done—and had the means to ruin her in Society.

Looking at her, though, with her pretty, innocent gaze and her giggling friends, Georgiana couldn't help but think Tristan must have misinterpreted her reasons for keeping the letter and the stockings. Perhaps Amelia was merely jealous. After all, Tristan had paid attention to the girl, and he was devastatingly handsome, and Georgiana
had
promised her assistance. In a sense, all of this was her fault.

"Certainly we should chat," Amelia returned, "but won't you have some tea first?"

Georgiana forced a smile. "That would be lovely. Thank you, Miss Johns."

"Oh, do call me Amelia. Everyone does."

"Very well.
Amelia it is."

Her hostess faced the other girls in the room.
"Everyone?
I'm sure you know Lady Georgiana Halley. Her cousin is the Duke of Wycliffe."

"Ooh. I heard that he married a governess," one of them chirped. "Is that true?"

"Emma was the headmistress of a girls' school," Georgiana said. The feeling in the room seemed… odd.
Hostile, almost.
The hairs on the back of her neck pricked. "And cousin to a viscount," she added, accepting a cup of tea from a footman.

"And now she is a duchess," Amelia took up, motioning Georgiana to sit down beside her. "So nothing in her past signifies in the least."

The look she gave Georgiana seemed full of secrets, as though she was prompting
Georgie
to say something in defense of a woman's character. Beginning to feel annoyance creep in, Georgiana sipped her tea. She might be outnumbered here, but she was by no means unarmed.

Though she'd seen them at the various events of the Season, she didn't know most of the young ladies at all well. They were daughters and nieces of barons and knights, mostly, and a granddaughter or two of a higher-ranking nobleman thrown in for good measure.

The girls began chatting again, silly things about fashion and weather, and she relaxed a little. Perhaps she was just nervous and was misreading things.

"Lady Georgiana," Amelia said softly. "I am surprised to see you here."

"I wanted to apologize to you," Georgians returned.

"Really?
Whatever for?"

"For Lord Dare.
My plans have gone distressingly astray, I'm afraid."

"How so?"

After seeing the note, Amelia had to know already. If she wanted to hear another apology, though, Georgiana was willing to accommodate her. Glancing at the other girls, she said, "I think this conversation requires a bit more privacy, if you don't mind."

"
Hm
.
I suppose my guests can spare me for a few minutes." She stood, drawing Georgiana up with her. "Excuse us for just a moment, won't you?"

The tittering and giggling didn't diminish as Georgiana followed her hostess out of the sitting room and down the hall to a smaller room that overlooked the quiet street. "Your home is truly lovely," she said, taking in the expensive, tasteful decorations again.

"Thank you. Now, did you really come here to apologize for
your ..
.
indiscretions
with Tristan? It's not necessary, I assure you."

Georgiana swallowed down her retort. Amelia had a right to be angry. "It
is
necessary, because I told you that I would help you win him as a husband, and I've done anything but that."

"Nonsense.
You're the reason I
will
win him as a husband."

Be polite,
Georgiana reminded herself. "This has all been a terrible misunderstanding, and I feel awful about it. I only wanted to help you. You must believe that."

"I don't believe it for an instant," Amelia replied, the calm smile still on her face. "But as I said, it doesn't signify. I have set my sights on Lord Dare, and I will marry Lord Dare."

"Through blackmail?" she bit out, before she could stop herself.

The girl shrugged. "I'm not so silly that I wouldn't use something that came my way."

Direct questions and indignation seemed to be netting her better results. "You stole them."

"And how did Tristan get them, pray tell?"

Georgiana started to snap out an answer,
then
closed her mouth again. Yelling wouldn't help anything. "Amelia, what happened between Tristan and me was completely unexpected, but I do not intend to let you use it to harm either of us. Surely you wouldn't do something so ...
unnecessary, that
would harm both your friendship with Tristan and with me."

"We are not friends, Lady Georgiana. We are rivals. And I have won."

"I don't think this is a contest, Am—"

"And my actions
are
necessary, because Tristan already informed me that he has no intention of marrying me." She sighed. "I suppose he still doesn't have to do so, but what happens next will be
his
fault, then. I told him that you were playing a trick on him and teaching him a lesson, so he won't want you now, anyway. Once he and I are married, I'll give your nasty little items back to you, and we can all be happy."

And to think Georgiana had thought her a naive, helpless young girl. For a long moment they gazed at one another,
then
Georgiana took her leave.

Her first instinct as she climbed into her aunt's coach was to go tell Tristan that he'd been right, and to find out if he had come up with any sort of plan.

As she considered the problem, though, one thing kept coming to mind. She really had done all of this to herself. First she'd decided Tristan needed to be taught a lesson, and that she was the only one who could do it. Then she'd failed miserably at it, entangling her life with his all over again.

But she wanted Tristan
Carroway
. As Robert had said, she couldn't simply give up and accept the future someone else left for her. They needed to talk, so she could decide whether she could ever trust him as much as her heart desperately wanted to.

Georgiana leaned out the window. "Hanley, please take me to
Carroway
House," she called. "I would like to call on Miss
Milly
and Miss Edwina this afternoon."

The driver nodded.
"Very good, my lady."