His answering chuckle made her pulse flutter. “I have always wondered why you—”
“Georgiana,” the duchess interrupted, standing, “I’m feeling quite fatigued this evening. Lord Dare, do you think you might have someone see us home?”
“I’ll be happy to do so myself, Your Grace.” He stood, offering Georgiana his hand.
She took it, feeling disappointed. They had been getting into their first good argument in several days, and she’d finally begun to relax a little.
“That’s not necessary, my lord. I’m sure you wish to remain here with your family. If you’ll just lend us your coach, that will suffice.”
He nodded, his expression unreadable. “I’ll walk you to the carriages, then.”
They walked to the edge of the gardens, Tristan in the middle, and Aunt Frederica keeping up a stream of polished small talk. Clever and amusing though it was, it kept Tristan from even looking in Georgiana’s direction, much less from speaking with her. Whatever the duchess had seen, she obviously hadn’t liked it.
At Tristan’s whistle, his coach rolled out from the mass milling across the street and came to a stop before them. He helped Frederica in, then finally turned his attention back to Georgiana.
“I wish you could stay,” he murmured, taking her hand and bending over it.
“My aunt is tired.”
With a slight grimace, he straightened. “Yes, I know.” He handed her up into the coach, keeping hold of her fingers a moment longer than he needed to. “Have a good evening, Georgiana. And pleasant dreams.”
Humph. She’d be lucky if she slept a wink. Georgiana sat back as the coach rolled off again. “What was that about?” she asked her aunt. “You’re never fatigued this early in the evening.”
The duchess was pulling off her elbow-length gloves. “I shall summon Greydon in the morning and have him inform Lord Dare that his pursuit is unwanted, and that it will cease immediately.”
Georgiana’s blood went cold. “Please don’t,” she bit out.
“And why shouldn’t I? Dare obviously wants your money, and you’ve said all along how little you enjoy his company. We might as well end this unpleasantness without any further delay.”
“I don’t want to ruin Grey and Dare’s friendship,” she replied, trying to gather her thoughts enough to make a logical argument—a difficult prospect, when logic told her that Aunt Frederica was absolutely correct.
“I, for one, wouldn’t mind seeing it ruined. Dare is a poor influence. I pity his aunts.”
“He cares for his aunts a great deal—and for his brothers.” Now she sounded as though she was defending him, blast it. “Just let me take care of this myself. I won’t have anyone else fighting my battles for me. You know that.”
The duchess sighed. “Yes, I do. But Tristan Carroway is a rake and a gambler, and he’s been known to be very wicked. He may say he’s courting you, but I doubt he has any idea how even to go about it in the proper manner. For heaven’s sake, he was practically drooling on you. Anyone who passed by would know that he’s in pursuit. Hardly the way to conduct a proper courtship.”
“You knew about his supposed courtship before tonight,” she returned, suspicious. “Why are you suddenly so adamant?”
“Because you were blushing, Georgiana. And smiling.”
“What? I was being polite!”
“To Dare?”
“His aunts were present. And I…will take care of this myself,” she said, shoving aside her own growing doubts. “Please promise me that you won’t involve Grey.”
Frederica was silent for a long moment. “You and I are going to have to have a serious chat very soon.”
“Is that an agreement?”
“Yes. For now.”
Her aunt had offered to dispose of Tristan in a way that meant she wouldn’t have to say anything at all to him, and she’d declined. She needed to have a serious chat with herself.
When she came downstairs in the morning after another night of Tristan-scented dreams, half the staff stood gathered around the hallway table, chattering to wake the dead. “What’s happened?” she asked.
The crowd parted. A bouquet of a dozen yellow lilies, wrapped with delicate yellow and blue ribbons, occupied the center of the table. For a moment all she could do was stand and look at it. Lilies.
