Tristan turned to find the old bastard arm in arm with some woman half his age. “Just now?”
“Yes. Don’t look so surprised. It happens all the time.”
“But I thought—”
The smile vanished from her face. “Don’t you dare,” she grated.
“You’ll have to enlighten me later, then.” This was damned confusing. She’d said she could never marry, yet now he found that men proposed to her all the time?
The dance ended, and he offered Georgiana his arm. To his surprise, she accepted. The aunties had joined a group of their friends beside the huge stone fireplace at one end of the room, and he headed in that direction.
“Explain,” he said, as the crowd around them thinned.
“Why should I?”
“Because you’re blaming me for something that—”
“I could marry someone who only wants my money in an instant,” she said in a low, tight voice. “I’ve already told you that I won’t marry for that reason. And I cannot marry for love.”
“Someone who loved you would understand.”
Stopping, her cheeks paling alarmingly, Georgiana snatched her hand from his grip. “I would never trust anyone who said he cared for me. I’ve heard it before.”
With that, she rejoined his aunts, leaving him standing alone by the refreshment table. Apparently he’d destroyed much more than her maidenhead. He’d destroyed her ability to trust her heart—or anyone else’s.
“I need a drink,” he muttered.
Dare looked very somber as he stepped up to the refreshment table and demanded a whiskey. Georgiana scowled. She’d meant only to flirt tonight, yet instead she’d argued with him again. She was so used to it by now that not fighting with him was difficult.
“You and Tristan make a lovely couple, my dear,” Edwina said, taking her arm and pulling her down onto one of the chairs beside the hearth. “I’m no meddler, of course, but now that you’re getting along, well, anything could happen.”
“Surely not,” she protested, forcing a disbelieving laugh and wishing they’d chosen a spot not quite so close to the oppressive heat. After the exertion of dancing, it was sweltering.
“Oh, I know you had that fight all those years ago, but you were just a child then, and he was so wild.”
“Very wicked, he was,” Milly joined in, “before Oliver died and left such a mess for him.”
“I…” Across the room, Amelia gestured to her. “Will you excuse me for just a moment?” Georgiana said quickly, rising again and doubly thankful for the distraction.
“Of course, dear. Go see your friends.”
“I’ll be right back.”
Glancing in Dare’s direction to make sure he wasn’t looking, she slipped around the edges of the room, following Amelia as the younger girl ducked into the hallway. Miss Johns had some sense, anyway. If the viscount caught the two of them together, he would suspect something. Georgiana couldn’t let that happen—not now, when she finally seemed to be making an impression in his thick skull.
“Miss Johns?”
“How is this helping me?” the girl asked, pouting as she pulled at one of her brunette curls. “He’s practically ignored me for a week.”
“I’m teaching him to realize that other people have feelings, too, and that he can’t just stomp on them whenever he chooses.” Georgiana stepped closer, lowering her voice. “When he saw you during the dance, did he act any differently than usual?”
“Well, he did look almost guilty for a moment. I have to admit, he’s never done that, before.”
“Then it’s working already. Trust me, Miss Johns. When I’m finished, he’ll want nothing more than to marry you and be a very pleasant husband.”
“All right,” the girl said slowly. “Perhaps you could look as though you weren’t having quite so much fun in his company, though.”
Georgiana blanched. Good heavens. She looked as though she were having fun? Something was terribly wrong, then. Or perhaps in her innocence, Amelia had misread what she saw. That must be it.
