Chapter Eighteen
W hen Georgina emerged from the smugglers’ lair into the summer sunshine, it wasn’t just her eyes that were having trouble adjusting. She’d always known that Algernon was an underhanded scoundrel, but had he become a true monster? What had he done with Percy? Was her cousin still alive?
She hoped the shoe buckle meant Percy had been taken captive and brought to Essex from London. But what if the perennially careless Percy had simply lost it while exploring the secret cache? When Percy had last stopped by her pit, they had discussed that the unique gems could have been originally excavated nearby. Perhaps Percy had become curious and hadn’t wanted to endanger her when he’d spotted evidence of smuggling. Had he confronted her brother in London?
Oh, how she missed that cheeky, cavalier rascal!
“We will find Pendergrast, Georgina.” Alexander’s voice was strong, confident—exactly what she needed. His fingers once again slipped between hers, and she clung tightly. She should be seeking her own strength, especially when she knew that they had no future together. But right now, she couldn’t let go.
Before Georgina could speak, a loud crack rent the air. At first, she thought perhaps a large chunk of the cliff had broken free and crashed to the shore. But when Alexander pushed her to the ground, his body splayed over hers, she realized the truth. It was the same sharp noise that she’d heard only yesterday on their wild carriage ride.
Someone was shooting at them.
Moments later, sand flew from the beach about a yard away. Alexander wrapped his hands around her head, pressing her into his chest. Then he rolled them into the shelter of a nearby rock ledge. Pushing her back against the wall, he withdrew his pistol and crouched in front of her, once again using his body as her shield.
Already shaken by what they’d discovered in the cave, Georgina tried to steady her breathing. She needed to have her wits about her. She wouldn’t help either herself or Alexander if she succumbed to a case of the vapors.
Another spray of silt exploded into the air. Alexander craned his head, but he didn’t seem to locate the shooter. Georgina tried looking, too, but she just spotted startled gulls, frantically flapping their wings and screaming with indignation.
“Those may only be warning shots,” Alexander told her, “but I cannot be certain.”
“The ambusher on the road was aiming at us, right?” Georgina asked, trying to marshal her thoughts into some semblance of order. But fear had seized her mind. Unlike yesterday, they were trapped on this beach. If their attacker was standing on the edge of the headlands, he could easily pick them off once they left their meager shelter.
“Judging by how close the lead balls came yesterday, yes, that attacker meant to hit us.” Alexander spoke a bit distractedly as his eyes scanned their surroundings.
“Do you think they are the same person?” Georgina asked.
“I don’t know,” Alexander admitted grimly. “If it is the first assailant, there’s no telling when he’ll switch from warning shots to real ones.”
Just then a series of sharp barks filled the air. Georgina stiffened at the familiar yips. It certainly sounded like Ruffian Caesar. Had he escaped from the cottage and followed them?
A growl and more yapping, then the fiercest rumble that Georgina had ever heard from her little dog. Terrified for his safety, she started to bolt from their rock shelter. Alexander gently but firmly gripped her arm.
“You don’t have a weapon, Georgina. If anyone should be hurrying into the fray, it should be me.”
Fear and panic collided. She yearned to save Ruffian Caesar, but she didn’t want to place Alexander in the path of a firearm.
Before either of them could move, the sound of ripping fabric floated down the cliffside. There was a man’s muffled curse, miraculously tinged more with annoyance than rage. More canine snarls punctuated the air. Running footsteps followed. The thud of boots grew fainter and fainter, but Ruffian Caesar’s low, threatening growl still echoed over the beach.
“Your dog chased off the miscreant,” Alexander said. “He’s certainly earned the title of emperor today.”
“Ruffian Caesar is, and always will be, a prince,” Georgina responded with more pluck than she actually had. Right now, she wanted to grab her dog and then sink back against the sun-warmed rocks. But she had no time to collapse, even as she felt the intense energy that had filled her body start to drain away.
“He deserves a piece of steak fitting a king tonight.” Alexander sounded half distracted, and she realized that he was listening to hear if their attacker was returning.
“That or a turnip,” Georgina said, mostly under her breath. Her pup did have the most peculiar tastes.
“A turnip?” Alexander asked, swiveling his head and giving her his full attention.
“It’s one of his favorite treats,” Georgina answered, feeling a bit defensive over Ruffian Caesar’s curious eating habits. “He truly does love them. He occasionally finds them and drags them back to my room. I have yet to discover his source.”
“You have an affinity for unique creatures,” Alexander said fondly as he returned his pistol to a holder on his bandolier. He grabbed onto a shallow shelf of rock and hoisted himself to his feet. Still steadying himself with one hand, he offered Georgina his other. “But we unfortunately don’t have time to discuss either the mutt or the fluffball. We should move quickly. Our attacker is definitely gone, but he may return.”
Georgina accepted his offer of assistance. Neither of them had worn gloves for their adventure, and the warmth from his bare palm seeped into her. Alexander possessed a singular talent for making her feel secure—not just in a physical sense but in a deeper, more complete way. With him, she could simply be.
As they stepped from the rock shelter, he yanked sharply on her hand, and she realized he was having trouble maintaining balance on the sandy beach. His cane was a few yards away, abandoned when he’d rolled them to safety. Georgina looped her elbow through his, offering him more support. He immediately allowed her to take some of his weight.
Even after they’d retrieved his walking stick, Georgina didn’t remove her arm. It just felt right to be walking side by side. And she didn’t feel so bewildered as she had when she’d left the cave. Together, they could fight whatever peril came their way.
“Do you think we should use the servants’ entrance?” Georgina asked as she and Alexander peered at Algernon’s manor from the copse of trees planted at the edges of the well-manicured lawn. “It will be open.”
“But it’s still broad daylight,” Alexander pointed out. “It will likely be bustling with people. With your brother and sister away, the main part of the mansion is actually safer.”
“But we can’t just stroll up to the front door.” Georgina tried to tamp down on her frustration. It was exceedingly annoying trying to break into her own residence. But she couldn’t just boldly strut around dressed in men’s attire with Alexander in tow. The servants would quickly recognize her, and they owed her no loyalty. Gossip that delectable would quickly spread.
“Perhaps a window has been left open to air the place out.” Alexander craned his neck as he scanned the brick facade. “The indoors must be stifling in this heat.”
Two furry feet suddenly pawed Georgina’s leg, followed by a cold wet nose against her palm. Glancing down, she found Ruffian Caesar staring expectantly up at her. Ever since they’d been reunited on the headlands, the terrier had been clingier than usual. She and Alexander hadn’t wanted to take the time to bring the dog back to her cottage, and they also worried about another ambush there.
Georgina bent, brushing her fingers against Ruffian Caesar’s springy fur. “What about you, boy? Do you know a way into Algernon’s home?”
Ruffian Caesar ignored her question as he focused on licking her wrist. When she rubbed his left ear, his eyes drifted half closed in pure doggy bliss.
“He did prove himself excellent at escaping.” Alexander slowly crouched down to join her in patting Ruffian Caesar. Basking under the dual attention, the dog began to wag his entire hindquarters.
“Did he ever disappear and reappear at your brother’s?” Alexander asked.
“He generally stayed by my side,” Georgina said slowly as she flipped through her memories. “Anne didn’t like him, so I tried to make sure he was never underfoot. There were times, though, that he’d slip away and come back with muddy pads and his treasured turnips.”
“Let’s quickly cross the lawn and follow Ruffian Caesar around the perimeter of the house. Perhaps we’ll see an open window or maybe he’ll show us a trick for getting in and out,” Alexander suggested.
Despite the direness of the situation, Georgina couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of them skulking through the bushes after a trotting terrier. “I suppose he is named after Rome’s greatest general, so it only makes sense to appoint him as our leader.”
“And, as we’ve mentioned, he is living up to his name today.” Alexander donned his cheerful grin like a knight of old would his armor. Given the renewed confidence she was feeling, Georgina couldn’t deny his strategy.
“Plus, we need dogged determination.” Alexander gave an exaggerated wink as he spoke the awful pun.
Georgina groaned theatrically. “Upon that, I believe we should move before the jokes devolve even further.”
“What?” Alexander pretended to be miffed as they moved as quickly as possible over the open grass surrounding the mansion. “I thought it was one of my better quips and not ruff at all.”
Ruffian Caesar, who was padding after them, chose that perfect moment to snort. Georgina shot Alexander a look as they slipped around the fountain, trying to use it as a temporary screen.
“Even the dog realizes how bad your jokes are.” Georgina pretended to gripe as they moved behind a statue of a plump cherub hugging an equally rotund fish. In reality, she was glad for the levity that kept her stomach from churning with anxiety.
“My humor is paaawsitively brilliant!” Alexander added as they ducked between another winged-child—this one clutching a pudgy, indignant goose.
His exclamation was so intentionally terrible that Georgina couldn’t suppress a giggle as they slunk behind a putto riding a fat aquatic mammal that was neither dolphin nor whale but some puffy hybrid. For the first time, Georgina had an appreciation for her sister-in-law’s love for cherubim statuary. But not as much as she was grateful for Alexander’s irreverent presence.
“Don’t you want to give me some apaaawse?” Alexander asked as they finally reached the shrubbery surrounding the brick edifice.
“How many words are you going to insert ‘paws’ into?” Georgina asked as they began to trail Ruffian Caesar as he sniffed his way around the boxwood.
“I am not pawsitive,” Alexander replied quickly.
“That is a repeat. Try being a little more creative.” Georgina feigned a scolding tone as she watched her terrier mark the branch that he had been so thoroughly inspecting only moments before. “Are you sure this is a sound plan? I feel all that we’re learning is how to properly be a Ruffian Caesar.”
“I would say that I was ‘pawsitive,’ but then you would accuse me of banality.” Alexander sounded airy, but Georgina hadn’t failed to notice that he had his hand in the pocket where he kept his pistol. Although her reputation was likely in more danger than her person, there was no telling when their attacker might return.
Georgina shivered despite herself, and she saw the flicker of concern in Alexander’s eyes. She tried to think of her own pun, but the fear had started to swirl inside her again.
“Ruffian Caesar is moving.” Alexander tugged on Georgina’s hand, pulling her forward. Branches caught at their clothes as they bent nearly in half. If Georgina had been wearing skirts, she was sure the loose fabric would have been snagged in the rosebushes.
“How absurd do you think we look?” Georgina asked as they attempted to shrink behind a neatly pruned rhododendron while their doggy guide thoroughly investigated a clump of brown pellets that Georgina did not want to study too closely.
“Very,” Alexander said jovially without a hint of self-consciousness.
“Do you think we are wasting time?” Georgina asked nervously.
“We haven’t found a better way into the house,” Alexander pointed out. “If all we manage to do is stay hidden until nightfall, it will be easier to slip inside the servants’ entrance. We don’t precisely have a better option.”
Just then Ruffian Caesar ambled between the house and a large boxwood shrub. He did not emerge from the other side. Georgina sidled after him. A gasp of excitement escaped her as she spied a low rectangular window designed to allow light into the cellar. The shrub must have been planted to obscure the opening, which clashed with the impressive array of symmetrical sash windows.
Giving up any pretense of dignity, Georgina lowered herself to her belly and slithered like a snake. The glass had been broken, leaving a gap big enough for a small terrier. But if she removed the remaining shards, she and even Alexander could squeeze through. Peering inside, she found herself looking into the kitchen larder. The astringent smell of turnips hit her first as she scanned the barrels and sacks that had been piled under the window, half obscuring it. The stacks of foodstuffs were arranged in such a manner to make perfect steps to the floor below for a dog… or two intrepid humans.
“I’m sorry we didn’t find any trace of Percy in the cellar,” Alexander whispered to Georgina as she led him up the main staircase with Ruffian Caesar loping behind them, one of his precious turnips firmly clenched in his maw.
As they’d suspected, the servants weren’t in the family rooms, and it was relatively safe to move about. Still, Georgina couldn’t escape the sense of dread that had settled over her like a thick, oppressive blanket. They’d managed to avoid the cook and the kitchen staff when they’d slipped through the lowest level, quietly checking the storerooms. But that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t blunder upon a maid tasked with dusting the empty parlors.
“Maybe we’ll find a clue in Algernon’s office,” Georgina replied softly as they headed down the hall to her brother’s study. Her last words were drowned out by a terrible creaking sound. In horror, she stared down at her left foot. She’d squarely stepped on the same board that she had last time when she’d tried to be stealthy. A bubble of nervous laughter pushed its way up her throat. She slammed her hand against her mouth in an attempt to stifle her sudden attack of the giggles.
“I don’t think anyone heard.” Alexander patted her back as she swallowed her snickers.
“I. Am. The. Worst. Spy.” Even as she quietly huffed out the words, she clomped down on another loose piece of flooring right outside Algernon’s study.
“Your espionage skills are on paw with my puns.” Alexander winked as she pushed open the door.
“Oh, please don’t start those again.” Georgina pretended to plead even as his awful quip helped settle her anxious energy. “Although I must agree with your assessment.”
Together they entered Algernon’s domain. Alexander silently shut the door while Georgina moved to the drawn drapes. She tugged them open just enough to provide adequate light. Alexander moved to stand next to her, somehow making less noise despite his cane.
“Matthew told me that, when he searched Viscount Hawley’s office for incriminating information, he was able to open a secret drawer by pointing a bust of his brother in the direction of a certain painting. Perhaps your brother has something similar.” Alexander glanced around the room as he spoke. Although he seemed at ease, Georgina couldn’t help but notice that he was gripping his cane tighter than normal.
“That sounds too clever by half for Algernon.” Georgina strode over to her half brother’s desk. “He’s not nearly that imaginative. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has evidence of the smuggling ring locked in a drawer.”
Systematically, she began to pull each handle. All moved but the lower left.
“Surely it can’t be that easy,” Alexander said while he fiddled with the paintings as if one of them would open a secret door if nudged the right way.
“Why not? He’s arrogant and doesn’t expect anyone to root around in his personal belongings in his own home on his sizable country estate. He is lord here.” Georgina began turning over the objects on the desk. “Now just where would he hide the key?”
“Perhaps he has it on him?” Alexander asked as he walked over to join her after his unsuccessful picture-shaking venture.
“No.” Georgina lifted up a clock and placed it on the floor. “He’s forever losing things like that. Even if he carries one, he would have a second.”
After finding nothing under the inkwell or the blotter, she returned to the drawers—this time rifling through them. In the third one, she felt a small, rectangular object shoved deep into the back. As her fingers closed around the cool metal, her heart started thudding faster and faster. Even before she pulled it out, she knew what she would see.
A snuffbox—which looked exactly like the Duke of Falcondale’s and Lord Henry Talbot’s—lay in her hand. She flipped it open, and the colorful banded gemstone glistened in the sunshine.
“Is that—?” Alexander asked.
“Yes,” she affirmed as she leaned forward to read what was engraved on the inner lid. The light wasn’t bright enough, but she could spy faint markings. Shutting the case so as not to spill the powdered tobacco, she raced to the window. As she did, she thought she heard something clink inside it.
“What does it say?” Alexander asked as she held the box in the bright beam.
“Lancelot,” Georgina read. “Of course he chose that appellation. He’s always fancied himself a chivalrous, dashing Lothario, when in truth he’s simply a scoundrel. But an appellation like that would appeal to him.”
“The investors in the smuggling ring must use Arthurian names as a kind of cowardly nom de guerre.” Alexander leaned over her shoulder to get a better look at the evidence. “It always seemed odd that my father had Merlin carved into his snuffbox. He’s not the least bit fanciful.”
“I don’t think Algernon’s alias is the only secret in this box.” Georgina upended the container on the windowsill. Sure enough, a key thudded onto the wood.
“Do not tell me that he hid an object connected to his illegal activities in an item literally emblazoned with his clandestine name?”
Georgina shrugged as she began to replace the snuff to hide the evidence of their visit. “I told you that he was an uncreative sort.”
“I cannot believe that my father chose him as a partner in an illegal undertaking.” Bitterness laced Alexander’s voice.
Georgina paused in opening the window to sweep the remaining powder outside. She had been so focused on her brother’s misdeeds that she hadn’t truly considered those of Alexander’s father. Like she’d told Alexander, she did not hold him responsible for the duke’s machinations. But even if Falcondale’s involvement was unimportant to her, his perfidy must slice at Alexander in ways she should have realized before now. After all, Alexander’s father had, in his warped logic, placed the sins of piracy upon the innocent Alexander while he himself was financing a smuggling operation.
“Our families are both truly terrible.” Georgina reached out and squeezed Alexander’s arm.
A faint smile drifted over his face. It was not a strong one, but neither was it the fake, cheery grin that he used to mask his pain. “Yet I like to think that neither of us turned out badly.”
“Very true.” Georgina wanted to lift her hand to cup his dear face, but she couldn’t afford such intimacies anymore. Her heart was already too entangled. Removing her palm from his sleeve, she turned sharply in the direction of Algernon’s desk. “And it is time to learn exactly what my brother and your father have been up to.”
Sitting in Algernon’s seat, Georgina used the key to unlock the bottom drawer. Inside lay a pile of ledgers along with a handful of documents. Alexander lowered himself into a chair across from her. She pushed one of the records in his direction and scanned through another.
“He doesn’t even try to obfuscate the fact that this is a record of smuggled goods.” Alexander shook his head in disbelief.
“I told you before, it’s conceit. Your father and my brother have been treated with deference their entire lives. They simply believe they are above everyone and everything. They probably regard this as their rights as lords—to earn as much money as possible to fill their coffers.” Georgina didn’t even look up as she flipped a page. Nothing about the lists of transactions surprised her. She was simply trying to discover something that might explain Percy’s whereabouts.
“They did use their aliases for the distribution.” Alexander frowned as he nudged the ledger he was reviewing in her direction. He jabbed his thumb at the list of names. “It appears there are three of them: Merlin, Lancelot, and Arthur.”
“Merlin is your father, and Lancelot is my brother. Does that make Henry Talbot Arthur?” Georgina wondered aloud. “He has the third snuffbox.”
A darkness settled over Alexander, and his entire body stiffened. “Henry would definitely involve himself in something illegal. He’d also have no qualms about kidnapping.”
“My brother is friends with him.” Georgina glanced down at the desk as old memories haunted her. “During my debut, Algernon tried to arrange a marriage between Lord Henry and me. It… did not go well, to say the least.”
Suddenly, Alexander was on his feet with his cane gripped in one hand and his other balled into a fist. His normally sunny expression had turned downright glacial. “Did Talbot hurt you? Attack you? What happened?”
Georgina blinked, taken aback by Alexander’s desperate fierceness. His expression almost immediately softened, but his warrior stance did not change. “I am on your side, Georgina. No matter what he did to you, I will not judge you.”
“He only called me a wallflower to his cronies,” Georgina said. “There were one or two other unkind observations, but only my pride was pricked. I was never fond of him, so I didn’t even nurse a broken heart. He never touched me.”
Alexander sank back down, but he still looked grim. “I’m sorry that you had to endure his unkind comments. He is a mean-spirited fool. I am sure you were as lovely then as you are now.”
Normally Alexander’s compliments caused a rush of warmth, but Georgina was too shaken by his reaction. She was used to a jovial Alexander. The only time she had seen him like this was when he’d revealed the surgeries that he’d endured.
“Alexander…” Georgina paused as she tried to determine how to broach the subject. She could sense his old wounds and perhaps even fear. “You went to boarding school with Lord Henry, didn’t you?”
“I did.” Alexander’s voice was unusually sharp. “The man is also Matthew’s middle brother.”
A chill stalked through Georgina. “Did he hurt you?”
“Yes.” Alexander’s response was swift and short.
“Do you wish to talk about it?” Georgina asked, trying to meet Alexander’s gaze. Although he had not bowed his head, he managed to look everywhere but at her.
“It… it is embarrassing, even after all these years.”
“You said you wouldn’t judge me. I can promise you the same, Alexander.” Georgina reached for him again, unable to suppress her urge to connect with him in the most fundamental way.
His fingers suddenly gripped hers, and his story came in a low rumble. Anger, sharp and hot, pierced Georgina as Alexander haltingly told her all the ways that Viscount Hawley and his middle brother had tormented him. Now she understood Alexander’s ferocity when she had mentioned her past connection with Lord Henry. A surge of protectiveness roared through her. She wanted to rush back in time and use all the fighting skills that Alexander had taught her to protect the boy he’d been.
“When I wrote to my father about the abuse, he never responded. When I saw him that summer, he only said that I should learn to defend myself.” Alexander shook his head sharply and then plastered on one of his cavalier grins. “But that is the past, and we must focus on the future if we’re to save Pendergrast.”
“I don’t want to gloss over your pain,” Georgina told him softly, wishing she could take him into her arms but afraid of what it could do to her heart. “You didn’t deserve your father’s treatment or what the Talbot brothers did. Your pain is real, but you needn’t feel embarrassed. It is their shame, not yours. You are the strong one to not just endure but to stay a good person.”
Alexander’s fake smile dropped, and his gaze held hers. “How is it that you always know the right thing to tell me?”
Because we unexpectedly fit each other. Every fiber of Georgina wanted to say those words, but she wouldn’t burden him. Instead she spoke another truth, one she knew would comfort. “Because I know how wonderful you are, so it is easy being your champion.”
Alexander groaned. “I wish I could kiss you, but I am afraid the fervor of my affections would delay us greatly.”
Oh, how Georgina desired that, too. But their mission to rescue her cousin wasn’t the only reason she should avoid Alexander’s embrace.
Ignoring the passion simmering between them, Georgina swallowed. It was time to return their attention to the mystery at hand. “We have a few more documents to skim, but if we learn nothing from them, perhaps we should visit the local tavern. The Duke of Foxglen mentioned that Lord Henry is there.”
“Lord Henry may simply be staying there on his way farther north to his father’s estate in Essex, but he could also have been following us.” Alexander reached for his cane, which had been resting on the side of the desk. He rubbed his fingers idly over Hercules and the lion. “I’ve never gone shooting with him, but I’ve heard he’s an average marksman. That fits with our pursuer’s skill level.”
“Lord Henry seemed glad to be in London. I don’t see him returning to Essex voluntarily.” Georgina suppressed a shiver. She had never liked the man, and the thought of him stalking Alexander and her left her unsettled. Only Algernon would pick such a dangerous snake as an illicit business partner.
“I did wonder if Lord Malbarry could have been the shooter, given that he was on your land immediately before the second attack,” Alexander added. “I don’t think the duke has the stamina to ride a horse the way our ambusher did, although he certainly could have sent Malbarry or hired a ruffian. Lord Clifville doesn’t seem familiar with firearms, so I don’t think he would be the attacker. But now it appears that Talbot is the villain.”
Georgina handed Alexander half of the stack of folded papers. “Perhaps we will discover proof in these.”
Georgina quickly glanced over the letters, but they contained no information pertinent to Percy or clues to the identity of Arthur. She spotted the pact in which the three men outlined the smuggling operation, but they’d all signed their fake names. Neither Georgina nor Alexander recognized Arthur’s handwriting, but they also weren’t familiar with their suspects’ penmanship.
“You’ll want to look at this,” Alexander said suddenly, his voice grave.
“Does it mention Percy?” Georgina asked as both hope and dread shot through her.
“No.” Alexander slid the long document in her direction. “It’s our proposed marriage contract.”
“Oh,” Georgina said as a dullness washed over her. Although she did not want the match plotted by Algernon and the Duke of Falcondale, she had begun to yearn for a true union with Alexander. The loss of that unconsummated relationship hurt more than her half brother’s betrayal.
Alexander pointed to a particularly lengthy paragraph. His gaze was soft with compassion. “It is here where they lay out how I will grant your brother the right to your lands and all contained within it.”
“Well, it is what we expected.” Georgina folded her hands and tried her best to stop the tears that suddenly wanted to flow from her eyes. Why did looking at this scrap of paper hurt so much? It was the proposed record of a fake marriage. The union was never meant to be a true one. The document was just a tool of manipulation. So what was this keen sense of loss pulsating through her?
“I am sorry.” Alexander’s voice was rough.
Faint hope whispered through Georgina. Did he also feel a pang of longing for the wedding that would never be?
“As I said before, it is not your fault,” Georgina assured him. She nervously wet her lips as she wondered how she could gauge his feelings about marrying her.
“I want you to know that I never would have signed such a travesty of an agreement. Even if I had been inclined to wed a woman of my father’s choosing, I would have rejected this. There is nothing in here that protects you.” Alexander gripped the vellum so hard that half of it crumpled. “No wonder you did not wish to enter into a union with any man after living under the guardianship of a tyrant like your half brother.”
Even if I had been inclined to wed a woman of my father’s choosing.
Alexander certainly hadn’t intended those words to be a dagger, but they sliced at Georgina nonetheless. He wasn’t feeling wistful about nuptials that would never occur or vows never to be spoken. What was roaring through him was guilt. It should be a balm that he felt so protective of her, but it only served to hurt Georgina more. He did care for her, but not in the way she longed for the most. And she feared that he might have even begun to pity her.
“I am not opposed to all marriage. I simply do not want to wed a man like my brother or Henry Talbot—or even Percy.” The words came from the wellspring of hurt deep inside Georgina. She didn’t know if she’d even initially meant to speak them aloud, but once she’d begun, she found that she could not stop. “If I could find a quiet, scholarly fellow like my father who is somber and deliberate in every undertaking, I could be persuaded to plight my troth to him.”
“By someone like your brother or Percy…” Alexander hesitated a beat. “Do you mean a sportsman?”
His long pause almost caused her to relent. But it was like she was a wild, wounded animal, lashing out at the hand trying to comfort her. Because Georgina didn’t want to be soothed. Not by him. At least not in that way. And definitely not like this. So instead she spoke a truth, even though she knew it would sting both of them.
“Yes. That manner of man has only ever broken my heart.”