“I suppose so, but this could be dangerous, Georgiana. He is a viscount, with several large properties. And he also has a certain reputation.”
“And I am cousin to the Duke of Wycliffe, and the daughter of the Marquis of Harkley.”
Dare had had the opportunity to hurt her reputation six years ago, and he hadn’t done it. Revenge after he discovered her present plan, though, was something else entirely. Georgiana shuddered. If Dare had any notion of fair play at all, nothing would happen.
“I have to admit,” Evelyn said, taking her hand, “it’s exciting, in a way. To know about your plan, when no one else does.”
“And no one else can know, Evie,” Lucinda said, glancing over her shoulder as though she feared they were being overheard even now. “If anyone realizes this is a game, Georgiana could be ruined.”
“I would never say anything,” Evelyn protested. “You know that.”
Georgiana squeezed back. “I’m not worried about that. You are my dearest friends.”
“It’s just that subterfuge is so unlike us,” Evelyn continued.
She was right about that. Georgiana grinned. “Just don’t forget, you two have to do this next.”
“I’m waiting to see whether you survive or not,” Lucinda said, her dark eyes serious despite her smile. “Just be careful, Georgie.”
“I will be.”
“Lady Georgiana.”
The gentleman who emerged from the salon next door was Dare’s polar opposite, thank goodness. She wasn’t up for another sparring match yet. “Lord Westbrook,” she said, relief making her smile.
The marquis sketched a bow. “Good evening. Miss Barrett, Miss Ruddick, greetings to you both.”
“Lord Westbrook.”
“I see you’ve taken on another task for yourself,” he said, returning his calm brown gaze to Georgiana. “The Carroways must be grateful for your assistance.”
“It’s mutual, I assure you.”
“Am I being too optimistic in thinking you might have a space left on your dance card for me?”
She gazed at the handsome, chestnut-haired marquis for a moment. Since Dare was supposed to fall in love with her, she would have to pretend to be somewhat enamored of him, but she liked John Blair, Lord Westbrook. He was more of a gentleman than most of her other suitors—and far more of one than the blackguard Viscount Dare. “I happen to have the next quadrille free,” she said.
He smiled. “I’ll return for you in a few moments, then. My apologies, ladies, for interrupting your conversation.”
“Now that man,” Lucinda said, gazing after him as he disappeared into the crowd, “doesn’t need any lessons.”
“Why is he still unmarried, then, do you think?” Evelyn asked.
Lucinda glanced at Georgiana. “Perhaps he’s set his sights on someone in particular, and he’s just waiting for her to come around.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Georgiana said, rising to go find Milly and Edwina.
“Then why are you blushing?”
“I’m not.” And besides, Westbrook didn’t need her money. So without that enticement he might decide she was markedly less appealing if he were to find out about her indiscretion with Dare. “Come with me and chat with Miss Milly and Miss Edwina. They say they’re in dire need of some civilized female conversation.”
“Ah, our specialty,” Lucinda said, taking her arm.
“Where are you going?”
Georgiana tried not to jump as she settled Milly into the wheeled chair the next morning. Footmen on either side of her panted from the exertion of bringing Milly and the chair down the curving staircase to the main floor. She finished tucking the blanket around her charge’s hips and her bad foot, then straightened to face the viscount.
“We’re going for a walk in the park,” she said, nodding her thanks to the servants and turning the chair toward the door. Dressed in her ever-present black, Edwina accepted a black shawl and parasol from Dawkins and prepared to join them. “And I thought we’d discussed your not spying on me at every moment.”
