Chapter Thirty-One #2
His destination came to him in a flash. Reaching up, he rapped on the trap. When the driver slid the door open, he issued the new direction and added, “and be quick about it.”
Georgina gazed at the blue mansion on Cleveland row before her. Funny how much easier it was to contemplate entering Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s gambling establishment for a second time. She hadn’t even bothered awaiting dusk.
Once again garbed in the padded suit having belonged to her brother, Georgina marched up the stone walkway, arched a sardonic brow at the doorman in a silent demand for admittance. The brutish looking man did not so much as blink before opening the door.
With no hesitation, Georgina sailed past him, crossed the smoking chamber—holding her breath, this time—and set out across the gambling floor.
Witnessing the myriad games at play, even at this time of day, barely caused her to bat a lash.
Maybe she did flinch a little when a skeet rifle fired quite near her, its wielder hitting his mark—a pinata filled with poker chips that rained down on him and his compatriots—but her steps did not slow.
She scanned the crowd. Spotting a female servant sporting familiar form-fitting, male evening attire, she made straight for her.
“Good evening, madam. I must speak with Mrs. Dove-Lyon on a matter of grave importance.”
The woman’s cool gaze flicked over her. “I’ll see if she is free to meet with you. I make no promises, Mr. …?”
“Arlington.”
Five minutes later, the woman returned. “Kindly follow me, sir.”
Georgina ignored the odd inflection.
She soon entered a similarly appointed parlor to the last one she’d occupied. Small, close, and at one time, expensively furnished. Now the carpets and seat cushions showed discreet wear, aided by the use of low lighting.
The Black Widow of Whitehall did not keep Georgina waiting long. She entered the chamber, dressed in her signature widow’s weeds, and closed the door softly behind her.
Her only visible facial feature, her broad mouth, curved in a genial smile. “Lady Arlington, I confess to being intrigued to learn what has brought you back to me.”
For the first time since making the decision to consult with Mrs. Dove-Lyon that afternoon, Georgina was struck with a case of nerves. She had pinned all her hopes on the widow untangling her from this mess. What if she could not?
No. She must not think like that.
“I need your help. It seems my father has struck a bargain with a man who has purchased his vowels.”
Her mouth firmed in evident disapproval. “Go on.”
“In short, my father promised the man my hand, Mrs. Dove-Lyon. As I have no intention of marrying this creature, I was hoping you might have some notion of how I can reprocure my father’s IOUs.”
The woman’s mouth quirked in an expression of seeming bemusement. Then, she laughed.
Georgina took instant umbrage. “I fail to see what you find amusing, madam.”
The widow sobered and appeared to gaze steadily at Georgina through the black netting of her cap. “Merely that your father is a hair late on the draw, my dear. You can hardly marry a man when you are already a married woman, and a future countess, at that.”
She blinked, trying to make sense of the widow’s words. “I beg your pardon?”
“You wed Lord Theodore Arlington only last week, did you not?”
Her mouth gaped, briefly. “How did you…” She shook her head to clear it. How the woman learned of the pretense was not important. “It was not a real wedding. More of a reenactment that was, in actuality, a first enactment.”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon waved a gloved hand. “Perhaps I am misinformed. In any case, I am very sorry for the conundrum you face. You obviously care a great deal for your parents, who, in my opinion, do not merit your concern. They should be looking after you, and not the reverse.”
Georgina fought a wave of gloom. “Be that as it may, do you have any notion where my father has been gambling. Perhaps, if I speak to the establishment—”
“That would be exceedingly unwise, Lady Arlington. Not only will approaching the hells lead you into unsafe arenas, if your father’s debts have been paid, that will mark an end in their interest in the matter.”
Georgina’s heart sank. “I see.”
“Even if you could buy the debt, I have already explained that way lies disaster—for you. Your father needs to want to stop gambling. Even then, doing so will be a lifelong challenge for him, I’m afraid.
“My advice? You are a grown woman. Simply decline the proposal and be done with it.”
Georgina twined her hands before her, needing to move, or scream. “I have. Or rather, I had. But, then I learned of several complications.”
“Such as?”
“Aside from not wishing to see harm befall my parents…”
The widow waited, motionless.
“The man who procured Father’s vowels claims to have learned my secret.”
“Which secret is that?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked, her voice low.
“I am not certain. There is my career as an authoress. Should the public learn that G. T. Arlington and I are the same, I may find myself shunned. My readers may decide they no longer enjoy my books. Even so, having considered the matter, the loss of my career is a risk I am willing to face.”
“Better to brave that than a life ensnared by a blackmailer, hmm?”
“Yes.”
“But you are not sure if that is the secret the man holds, which implies there is a second secret.”
“Indeed. And herein lies the crux of the matter. The secret involves…”
Abruptly, the distinct sound of voices raised in dispute came from the corridor outside the chamber, loud enough to draw both Georgina’s and the gambling hell proprietress’s attention. They both eyed the closed door just as it swung open.
Teddy surged forward, his tall, lean frame filling the doorway. Two men scrabbled after him, each grasping one of his arms in their meaty fists.
“Let me go,” he snarled, struggling to evade his captors. Then, he met Georgina’s stunned eyes. “I knew it. I knew that was you. Bloody hell, Georgina. I am quite certain I told you should a need arise for another visit to the illustrious Black Widow of Whitehall, I would be the one to pay it.”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s mouth curved in a slow smile. She raised one gloved hand. “At ease, gentlemen. I believe Lord Arlington merely wishes to speak with his wife.”
Though clearly disgruntled by the directive, the brawny men released Teddy.
Straightening, he tugged at his cuffs, every bit the Viscount of Helmsley and future Earl of Ainsworth, and Georgina could not take her eyes off of him.
“Actually, madam,” he said, addressing Mrs. Dove-Lyon, “it is you with whom I wish to speak, but I would like a moment to confer with Lady Arlington, first.”