Chapter Seventeen
Marlow
My habits were changing, and not for the better.
Typically by noon, I had all my affairs in order for the day. Of course, with Parliament in session, I had much more than usual on my plate, but I wasn’t needed for another few days, so my late mornings were forgivable. For now.
We hadn’t played cards as a family in ages. Maggie had played the pianoforte while Gabriel and Thomas had opposed Georgiana and me in whist.
It had felt like old times. Like . . . a family.
I’d lain in bed last night, candle burning to the quick, lost in thought. I now knew exactly who’d said those terrible things to Georgiana—the women Georgiana had spoken to alone. I’d asked Maggie for their names. I wouldn’t say anything, but I certainly wouldn’t entertain them.
Gads, the way Georgiana had clung to me. How she’d tried to stifle her emotion, her tears. It had taken everything in my power not to lose my head and make promises I wasn’t sure I could keep. I wanted to protect her. Wanted to give her everything she needed to be safe and secure and happy.
The problem? Georgiana was not in my plan.
Which is why I’d tossed and turned, paced until my feet were sore, and finally slept for a precious few hours.
I awoke still unsettled.
I wasn’t sure the plan felt right anymore.
Because what would my life look like when Georgiana left?
And, the more pressing question, what could I do about it? Never fulfill our bargain, and keep her hidden in the passageways forever?
I fenced to clear my mind, then dressed, then took the stairs down two at a time to the foyer. Time for work.
At the bottom, I rounded the staircase toward my study.
A peal of laughter echoed past me.
Georgiana? My attention turned toward the drawing room at the opposite end of the house.
She laughed again. What the devil was so amusing? I found myself smiling as I turned, following the echoes of her voice, remembering how just last night I’d made her laugh like this. How her face had brightened, her smile reaching the corners of her eyes.
Just a quick word.
I couldn’t stay. But I could see her, wish her a good day, and perhaps she’d get that look in her eye that was half cross, half amused. The space between her perfectly shaped brows would crease, and she’d try to keep from smiling while chiding me for sleeping late.
The doors were open. I heard my mother’s voice too. Maggie’s. And . . . someone else.
“. . . seen a show before?” asked a man’s voice.
My jaw clenched.
“No. Can you believe it? I’d dearly love to,” Georgiana was saying as I entered. I found her on the settee in an airy, soft pink dress, her hair curled and arranged with ribbons atop her head.
Sitting beside Lord Stephen Reynolds.
London’s most notorious rake. The fop was as close as he could possibly get to Georgiana without touching her, and my family allowed it.
Mother stood from her chair opposite the settee. “Your Grace. We did not know you were at home.”
Ah, but she did. She knew I never joined for calls. She simply hadn’t alerted me. Had she, Reynolds never would have been invited in.
Maggie, at the window, gave me a pointed look—the one that told me I needed to readjust my mood.
“What are you doing here?” I directed the question at Reynolds.
The man had the audacity to look directly at Georgiana. Leaning, were it possible, even closer to her. “I’ve come to pay a call to Miss Wood, Your Grace. I am delighted to make her acquaintance through our mutual friend, Mrs. Johns.”
Georgiana leaned back and smiled up at him. Not her true smile, but a smile of encouragement all the same. She did not know of his reputation because if she did, the Georgiana I knew would not be sitting so closely.
“Join us.” Mother motioned toward a chair at her right.
I stood as stiff and still as a tree. Mrs. Johns. This was all her doing. This was Maggie’s and my mother’s doing. I had trusted them to find someone worthy, someone to distract the rest of the ton, to help Georgiana’s reputation, and he was their best option?
Devil take them all.
Georgiana’s smile faded. “Are you well, Your Grace?”
“Quite.” In truth, I felt as though I’d overeaten. I felt weak and worn.
Georgiana did not seem to believe me. She frowned, and I hated myself for being the cause of it. “Won’t you join us for tea? Her Grace has just sent for a tray.”
“I love those little sandwiches . . . ham and cheese?” Reynolds practically leaned his head next to hers as he spoke. My jaw clenched so tight my back teeth ached. “My cook at home makes a berry tart unlike anything you’ve ever tasted. Sweet and sour all at once.”
“Mmm.” Georgiana smiled back, but her eyes found mine, questioning.
I hadn’t answered her. Did I want to stay for tea? What I wanted was to toss Reynolds out on his backside. Then, perhaps, take tea. “I—”
“You must have so much work to finish, dear.” Mother retook her seat. “But I daresay there will be plenty of time for conversation later.”
“What are you implying?” I heard the bite in my voice and felt the room tense.
“That you might wish to finish your work now and renew your friendship with Lord Reynolds tomorrow at Drury Lane.”
Tomorrow? Drury Lane? Had everyone gone completely mad? “I am unaware of anything happening at Drury Lane.”
“Hamlet!” Mother hid her bitter tone with sweetness. “Lord Reynolds has generously offered to escort Miss Wood. You will have gone to fetch Lady Diana. The four of you, along with Margaret and Gabriel, can reunite later in the evening.”
“A sound plan.” Reynolds nodded his approval.
I fisted a hand. There was no version of any evening of mine where Reynolds, who’d spent more time in brothels and gaming hells than at home with his ailing father, took Georgiana anywhere alone. “Absolutely not.”
“I beg your pardon?” He sat up straighter, mercifully moving further away from Georgiana.
“You are not permitted to join us.” As though we’d go anywhere at all. I hadn’t thought about Lady Diana since Mother had made me call upon her. I had no desire to take her to Drury Lane, or anywhere for that matter.
Georgiana frowned.
“Marlow, darling.” Mother laughed. “You’ve forgotten the plan.”
The plan was to show Society that Georgiana and I were merely friends.
The problem was in the definition of the word.
Perhaps because I had never had a friend quite like Georgiana.
A close friend of the opposite sex. Was it normal to think this often of her?
To imagine her in ways that made my chest feel like exploding?
None of it signified, for the plan never involved pawning her off on the worst possible creature in London.
Georgiana’s chest rose and fell, gaze set upon mine with indignation.
She did not understand. Perhaps she’d been charmed.
But she was under my protection, and I would not allow her to be taken in by this scoundrel.
Out of respect for her brother and as her friend, I would see her to Drury Lane myself.
When she learned the truth about Reynolds’s character, she’d understand.
“Miss Wood, a word.”
“Your Grace, I have a guest.” Still, she sat straighter. She’d obey me. She, like everyone else, had to.
“Come.”
Begrudgingly, she stood. “Please excuse me,” she whispered. Without raising her gaze, she strode to me, and I turned from the room. Her pattering footsteps behind were a relief, and I led her down the foyer a few paces and around the grand staircase to a quiet corner.
I drew in an easy breath and exhaled. “Forgive me, Georgiana, but you—”
“How dare you.”
I drew back. Examined her fully. Her cheeks were bright pink, and her eyes looked almost . . . pained. She’d been angry with me before, but this was different. This was unaccountable. “How . . . dare I?”
She scoffed, folded her arms around her middle, and glared at my chest. “That man came to call upon me, brought me flowers, and you treat him with callous regard and then uninvite him to an evening we had already arranged?”
She had no idea. No wisdom on the matter. She ought to be thanking me. “That man is a filthy scoundrel. He is wealthy, yes, but marred by greed. His appetite, his vices, know no bounds. I cannot allow you to be associated with a man who—”
“I am aware of Lord Reynolds’s reputation.
” Her jaw tensed. Still, she would not meet my eyes.
Her refusal to hear and trust my opinion in this matter created a bubble of frustration in my chest that very well might explode.
Did she not see that my only aim was for her good?
No, for she continued, “He spoke at length of his desire to change. His hope for a wife and family. The vices that you speak of—he has abandoned them this Season entirely.”
Codswollop. Reynolds, a changed man? Not a chance. The man was too far gone. Especially for Georgiana, who’d barely scratched the surface of sin. “And you believe him?”
Her lips parted as though to chide me, but she thought better of it. She blinked, then slowly raised her gaze to mine.
I wished she hadn’t. Her golden-green gaze cut through me like a sword. I lost half my strength trying to hold it as she said, “You have no idea what it is to feel penitent for wrongdoing, do you?”
What the devil was she talking about? Penitent? For what? So far everything I’d done resulted in someone else’s happiness. Often I tried to be wise, to thwart their efforts, but when did my thwarting ever actually scratch deeper than the surface?
My temper started to flare. How dare she insinuate that my vices were anywhere near the level of Reynolds’s.
I despised the gaming tables. I neglected, sometimes with great difficulty, seeking out pleasures.
And this was what she thought of me? That I was no better than a man who made his bed in her worst nightmares.
For what? Making demands of those who wronged me?
Managing accounts and deciding with whom to entrust business matters?
She had no idea— “You think so little of me?”