Georgiana nearly spit out her wine.
Lord Dunmore’s grin grew. He looked like he very much wanted to test that fact. Felicity’s amber eyes twinkled beneath her lashes, clearly having fun. The woman deserved some fun. And attention. Given her situation with her wastrel fiancé.
Felicity’s gaze caught on something, and then she turned to the gentlemen, smiling cheekily. “Well, unfortunately, I am going to have to disappoint you gentlemen, and we’ll never be able to investigate those intriguing statements. Lord Bentley is requesting my presence.” She dipped a graceful curtsy, champagne skirts fluttering like silk waves. She lifted her wine. “Thank you for the refreshment, Your Grace, my lord. I will leave you in Mrs. Jennings’s capable hands.”
And now Georgiana was left alone. Two wolves. One hen. A moment like this, prior to her marriage, would have been an opportunity. An opportunity the men clearly thought was still on the table. And was it? The wine burned in her stomach. Most definitely not. But was Fitz planning to continue with his mistress indefinitely? Would Georgiana be able to stomachthat?
“Congratulations on your recent nuptials,” Lord Dunmore said, lifting his tumbler of amber liquid in a small toast.
Georgiana’s gaze darted to her husband, who appeared completely oblivious to her whereabouts. Her heart slid down in her chest. “Thank you,” she murmured. Congratulations felt awfully hollow at the moment.
“Tsk, tsk,” Lord Dunmore said, his gaze narrowing on her. “It can’t be easy, marrying a strange man, thrown into a new life you didn’t ask for.”
She shifted under the intensity of his stare but forced a smile. She shouldn’t dwell on her husband; her husband, who preferred his mistress to her. She had two strapping men giving her attention, and she would bask in that for the moment.
“It has had its difficulties, but I am not one to back down from a challenge.”
“Yes, not a simpering miss. You’ve always struck me as a woman with confidence. Knows what she wants,” Lord Dunmore said, sharing a look with the Duke.
The Duke studied her over his whisky. “It is quite unforgivable on your husband’s part, leaving his stunning new wife all on her lonesome.”
She glanced at her husband again, and this time their gazes clashed. But he hastily looked away and leaned toward his companion. She blinked. He didn’t evencarethat the two biggest rogues in England were moving in on her like hounds on a foxhunt? She almost stomped her foot. Perhaps if she blatantly flirted with them, he’d develop a modicum of interest in her. She would take a page out of Lady Rutledge’s book. Perhaps she could make her own husband growly.
She drew her gloved finger over her low-cut bodice and shrugged. “How can I complain with one man leaving me unattended when I find myself with the attention of two gentlemen such as yourselves?”
“If you are feeling…neglected Mrs. Jennings,” the Duke said. “Dunmore and I would gladly step in and correct that. You won’t doubt for a moment our appreciation of you.”
Why did Georgiana suddenly feel like the meat between a rake sandwich? She glanced between the two men.
Lord Dunmore’s lips curled wider, a smile that could have been the devil’s own. “Imagine what such appreciation would feel like, the attention of not just one, but two men. All on you, love.”
Oh. Shewasthe meat between a rake sandwich. Where before that would have thrilled her, now it—well, she still did like the idea of it. But only if the two men were both Fitz. Which only made her feel doubly heartbroken. Two Fitzes to sleep with his mistress.Gah. She couldn’t do this. Provoking jealousy was not for her. Not for retaliation. Not for malice.
“I have no doubt I would feel thoroughly appreciated,” she murmured. “But for right now, I am not in search of any outside appreciation.” She smiled apologetically at Lord Dunmore and the Duke before letting her gaze stray briefly to Fitz again.
Once again, their gazes clashed, but he quickly turned and put his back to her. Ouch. She tried to swallow, but it was near impossible. Apparently, the jealousy tactic wouldn’t have worked on her husband, anyway.
“If you ever change your mind…” the Duke murmured.
“The offer stands,” Lord Dunmore finished.
They bowed and took their leave.
Georgiana was ready to do the same. Leave. She couldn’t force her lips upward in a pathetic excuse for a smile any longer, couldn’t hold back the tears constantly threatening to break free. Her head throbbed from holding them back. She just wanted to go home. Hide away in her room until she fell asleep and for a few blissful hours could forget this day.
Because just now, the melancholy was too heavy, too thick, too choking to fight off. It wasn’t the first time Georgiana had been gripped in melancholy’s unrelenting clutches. A lonely existence made it inevitable. Sometimes Georgiana could free herself; sometimes she didn’t succumb. But the aching pressure in her chest, closing over her like a blanket covered in stone, was too much. She’d let it consume her tonight. One thing she always reminded herself of: tomorrow was a new day. She’d fight again tomorrow, for her marriage, for her future. But for tonight, she would let melancholy win.
She had to hold on to the hope that there was something to fight for. Because if there wasn’t—this was the first time in Georgiana’s life she thought she truly might break.
41
Fitz
Fitzhadmuckeduphis marriage No—he had fucked up his marriage.
The only problem was, he wasn’t sure what had upset his wife. But heknewhe had messed up. One moment they were tangled together in the snow, Fitz feeling as light as the fluffy powder, and the next she was in his study, cold as ice, nothing but a beautiful, frigid exterior. His wife had quite literally disappeared inside herself. And it wasn’t the first time since they’d arrived in London that she had appeared downcast.
Georgiana had given him one-word—and more often no-word—responses all night. She had complained of a megrim at the Rutledge’s supper party, so they had left early, and as soon as they arrived home, she’d fled straight to her room. He had chased after her—damn, the woman was fast for being so small—and had been greeted by a door shutting in his face.
