A stone of dread hit the pit of Frederica’s stomach. Dare had been absent from the soiree last night, as well. If he had betrayed Georgiana’s trust again…“Which other couple, Pascoe? Out with it.”
“Lord Dare and…and Lady Georgiana, Your Grace.”
“What?”
Swallowing, the butler nodded. “This person also informed me that Lord Dare and Lady Georgiana were in a certain state of undress.”
“Un—” For a moment, Frederica wished she didn’t believe that fainting was for weak minds. “Georgiana!” she roared, heading for the stairs again. “Georgiana Elizabeth Halley!”
Georgiana forced open one eye. Someone was calling her name, she thought, though it might have been a dream. The call repeated, reverberating through the house.
“Uh-oh,” she muttered, making the other eye open and sitting up. Aunt Frederica never yelled.
Her door burst open. “Georgiana,” Frederica said, her color high as she strode into the room, “tell me you’ve been here all night. Tell me at once!”
“What have you heard?” she asked, rather than answering.
“Oh, no, no, no,” Frederica groaned, sinking down on the bed. “Georgiana, what in heaven’s name happened?”
“Do you really want to know?” she asked quietly, her heart thumping with nervousness for the first time. She might not care any longer what the ton thought, but she cared about what her aunt would think.
“Yes, I really want to know.”
“This is between us,” Georgiana pressed. “You may not say anything to Grey, or to Tristan, or to anyone else.”
“Stipulations, my dear, don’t apply to family members.”
“They do this time, or I’m not saying anything else.”
Her aunt sighed. “Very well.”
She had almost hoped that Aunt Frederica wouldn’t agree to her terms, so she would have an excuse not to explain anything. No doubt, however, her aunt had also anticipated that outcome. “Very well. Six years ago, I was the object of a wager,” she began.
By the time she finished, Aunt Frederica looked as though she very much regretted agreeing to any conditions at all. “You should have told me earlier,” she finally said, her jaw clenched. “I would have shot him myself.”
“Aunt Frederica, you promised.”
“Well, at least your antics will have made Lord Westbrook feel better. That’s something, I suppose.”
“I suppose so.”
Her aunt stood. “You’d better get dressed, Georgiana. I won’t be the only one hearing rumors today.”
“I don’t care,” Georgiana said, lifting her chin.
“You’ve been well respected by all of Society, and sought after by all the eligible men. That will change.”
“I still don’t care.”
“You will. Your Lord Dare doesn’t have a promising tendency to stay about.”
“He said he would be here this morning,” she answered, a tremor making her fingers shake. He’d promised; he would come.
“It is morning. Early, but morning. Get dressed, my dear. The day will only get worse, and you need to look your best when you face it.”
The more Georgiana thought about it, the more nervous she became. Mary helped her dress in her most demure morning gown, of patterned yellow-and-green muslin, but if the news had already spread here, by midmorning everyone in London would know that she and Tristan had been seen, half-naked and with her hand down his trousers, in Amelia Johns’s bedchamber. A demure dress wouldn’t stop those rumors.
She and Frederica sat down for breakfast, but neither of them had much of an appetite. The servants were as precise and polite as always, but she knew quite well that they had been the first to hear, and that they had been the ones to pass the information on to her aunt. How many other servants were chattering to their employers this morning?
