“Whom did you bribe to find out my whereabouts?” Georgiana asked, smiling at him.
“No one. I used my intuition after Pascoe said you’d gone out to luncheon. I happen to know you’re fond of cucumber sandwiches, and I happen to know that you prefer the ones here. Ergo, here I am.”
“And why were you calling on me, when you are expected in the House of Lords momentarily?”
“It’s been nearly a day since I last saw you,” he said, leaning his chin on his hand to gaze at her. “I missed you.”
Georgiana blushed. She knew she should reply with something coy and witty, but it was difficult to think logically when most of her was occupied with keeping herself from pouncing on him and smothering his mouth with kisses.
“That’s a very nice thing to say,” she settled for, and saw the swift look of surprise in his eyes, quickly blanketed.
“You seemed out of sorts when you called on my aunts yesterday. They were concerned about you. May I pass anything on to them?”
“Yes. Tell them…” She stopped, because while the message she wanted to give Tristan was that she felt better, that would never do when she cried off going to the soiree tonight. “Tell them I was sorry to cut my visit short, but I had a bit of a headache.”
He leaned closer, apparently forgetting that her friends sat directly beside them, and that they were in a crowded outdoor café with a hundred interested witnesses. “And how do you feel today?”
“Better, but tired,” she said in a low voice. “Now go away, Tristan.”
A sensuous smile curved the corners of his mouth. “Why?”
She decided that he couldn’t help being desirable and exciting. “Because I find you very annoying, and you’re interrupting my luncheon.”
The smile deepened, touching his eyes. “I find you very annoying, too,” he replied softly. Sitting back and glancing at her companions, he pushed away from the table. “Good day, ladies. I expect I’ll see you this evening?”
“Oh, yes, the Everston soiree,” Evie said. “Until then, Lord Dare.”
His gaze remained on Georgiana. “Until then.”
“Oh, my,” Lucinda said, as he strolled away. “My butter’s melted.”
Georgiana laughed. “Lucinda!”
She knew what her friend meant, though. The conversation had felt sensuous and intimate, and somehow very significant. He’d come just to find out how she was feeling, and to let her know that he still meant to pursue her, whatever happened with Amelia.
It left her feeling more optimistic, and more courageous. She would regret not seeing him tonight, but she had a crime to commit.
Chapter 22
Lovers and madmen have such seething brains,
Such shaping fantasies, that apprehend
More than cool reason ever comprehends.
—A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Act V, Scene i
Georgiana sent Mary to inform Aunt Frederica that she wouldn’t be attending the Everston soiree, and then strode as fast as she could back and forth in her bedchamber for the next fifteen minutes. Pausing at the doorway at the end of each circuit to listen, she hitched up the skirt of her shift and went over to the window and back again.
Frederica would wait until the last possible moment to come and see her, in case she changed her mind. Of course her aunt would think that she declined to attend because of Dare—which was correct, but not in the way her aunt could possibly have imagined.
At last she heard the dowager duchess coming down the hallway, and she sprang over to lie on her bed. She was out of breath and flushed, which was what she’d intended, but that coupled with her supreme nervousness made her worry that everyone would think she was having an apoplexy.
“Georgiana?” Frederica cracked open the door and leaned her head in.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Frederica,” she said, trying to keep from running out of air. “I just don’t feel well.”
The dowager duchess approached the bed, leaning down to put her hand across Georgiana’s forehead. “My goodness, you’re burning up! I’ll have Pascoe fetch a physician at once.”
