“Oh, no.” Georgiana buried her face in her pillow. “Mrs. Grawtham couldn’t keep a secret about herself.”
“Anyway,” Evie said, sitting on the edge of the bed, “everyone’s talking about how your horse threw you and Lord Dare carried you home.”
That wasn’t too awful. “Well, I suppose it’s true,” she said, emerging from the soft pillow so she could breathe.
“And about how Dare was so worried that he wouldn’t leave your bedside until Dr. Barlow swore that you would be all right and the duchess said she would send word to him if anything at all changed.”
“That didn’t—”
“Everyone’s saying that he’s in love with you,” Lucinda took up, her dark brown eyes serious. “Georgiana, I thought you were teaching him a lesson. Now it’s gotten you injured. If you’re still intent on leading Dare on, this could be very dangerous.”
“I’m not leading him on, and he’s most certainly not in love with me. We don’t even like each other, remember?”
“That’s why everyone thinks it’s romantic.” Evelyn looked rather worried herself. “You swore never to wed, and never, ever to Dare, and now he’s courting you, and you’re bound to change your mind.”
“Oh, good heavens!” She kicked her feet under the blankets, which only made her backside ache again. “I never swore anything, and I’m not changing my mind, and—damnation!”
Lucinda and Evelyn looked at one another. “I’m not choosing anyone to teach a lesson to, if this is what’s going to happen,” Evelyn said.
“Nothing is going to happen,” Georgiana stated, beginning to wonder whom she was trying to convince.
“What about Dare’s escorting you to Vauxhall Gardens, the other night?” Lucinda leaned her chin in one hand. “And you must have been riding with him, if he carried you home.”
“He says he’s courting me, but he doesn’t mean it,” she protested. “For heaven’s sake, he’s only trying to get even for my getting even.”
Evelyn looked even more confused, but Lucinda’s expression darkened. “Wait just a moment,” she said, leaning forward. “He says he’s courting you? You mean he is courting you, Georgie. And everyone already knows it.”
Georgiana buried her face again. “Go away. I don’t know what I mean.”
Lucinda patted her on the arm. “Well, you’d better figure it out soon, my dear. Because we aren’t the only ones asking the questions, and we’re the nice ones.”
Less than an hour after they left, someone scratched on the door. When Mary opened it, Josephine, a downstairs maid, curtsied.
“Lady Georgiana, I’m to tell you that Lord Westbrook is downstairs, come to call on you.”
“My goodness, I forgot. We were to go walking. Please have Pascoe explain that I’ve been injured, and have him give the marquis my apologies.”
Josephine curtsied again. “Yes, my lady.”
A few minutes later the maid returned. “Lord Westbrook expresses distress at hearing of your injury, and says that he will write you a letter.”
“Thank you, Josephine.”
Afterward Georgie lay on her bed for a long time, thinking. The world at large thought Tristan was courting her, and that she welcomed his attentions. The problem was, she did. She couldn’t help looking forward to each and every encounter; and her entire being reacted to his voice and to his touch.
What if this wasn’t part of a game? What if he was sincere? And what if he actually did ask her to marry him?
Georgiana groaned, wishing she could stand up and stalk about the room. She always thought better when she could pace. This was a disaster, and the worst part of it all was that it was entirely of her own making.
“Oh, I give up,” Edwina said, leaning down to capture Dragon and cuddle him in her lap. “I have to admit, you were right about their combustibility.”
Milly wished she could find some satisfaction in Edwina finally admitting she was right about something. “It’s such a pity. For a few moments they actually seemed to want to patch things up.”
Her sister sighed. “Do you suppose it’ll be Miss Johns, then?”
“Probably, dash it all. She’s wealthy enough, but she seems far too stiff to be Carroway material. And once they’re married, it’ll be back to Essex for us. We may as well say good-bye to the boys now; I doubt we’ll see them except at Christmas, once we’re banished back to the cottage.”
Dragon leapt off Edwina’s lap to attack the nearest curtain. “Oh, why couldn’t it have been Georgiana?” she grumbled.
