“She doesn’t trust me—that’s what’s wrong. And now thanks to you, she never will. I want you gone from this house today. And I never want to set eyes on—”
“She blames you for the wager?” Robert interrupted from the far side of the room.
“Yes, she blames me for the wager.”
“Is this about the other wager?” Bit pursued.
Tristan whipped around to face him. “When did you decide to speak? Leave off, and get out.”
“If you send Shaw away,” Robert continued, folding his arms, “he won’t be able to explain anything. So which do you want: him gone, or an explanation for Georgiana?”
Considering his chances with her, it was a close decision. Damned Bit was making him think, though, making him slow down and look at what he was doing. Bradshaw held the chair out, keeping the legs pointed in his direction. He was breathing hard, his eyes on Tristan’s face.
Tristan glared back at him. “Georgiana,” he bit out. “She thinks I had something to do with the wager.”
Bradshaw lowered the chair, but kept hold of it. “So I’ll tell her you didn’t.”
“It’s not that simple. My knowing about it is nearly as bad as my initiating it. Dammit, Bradshaw!”
“Then I’ll tell her you didn’t know, and that you tried to kill me when you found out.”
It probably wouldn’t matter to her. It was probably too late. “Get dressed,” he ordered, and stalked out of the room. As he passed Bit, he reached out to grab him by the shoulder, but his brother dodged the contact. He didn’t feel ready for the additional frustration of dealing with Robert today, but neither could he leave the miracle unaccounted for. “Explain,” he said, continuing down the hallway to his bedchamber.
He’d ripped his sleeve, and Bradshaw had landed at least one blow. He needed to look semicivilized, or Georgiana would never listen to him.
Bit followed him. “Explain what?”
“Why you decided to get so chatty, that’s what.”
Silence accompanied them down the hall. Annoyed again, Tristan turned to face his brother.
“Is this a game, Bit?”
Robert shook his head, white-faced, the line of his mouth tense and straight. For the first time, Tristan realized that the intervention had cost his brother something. He faced forward again and continued into his bedchamber.
“Tell me when you feel like it, then. But go make sure Bradshaw hasn’t escaped.”
“He won’t.”
Taking deep breaths, Tristan tried to slow down the rampage of his emotions and recall some sense of logic. Much as he hated to admit it, Bit was right; if he was to have any hope of regaining a degree of Georgiana’s trust, he needed Bradshaw to explain what had happened. And then he needed to do something he hadn’t done in a very long time. He needed to pray, to anyone who would still listen to him.
Chapter 18
So will I turn virtue into pitch;
And out of her own goodness make the net
That shall enmesh them all.
—Othello, Act II, Scene iii
Amelia sat in the morning room, embroidering a pretty flower on the corner of a handkerchief. Her mother sat at the writing desk, sending out correspondence, and she knew her father was in his office pretending to do accounts.
Given the importance of the day, she thought she looked remarkably composed. The light blue muslin she’d chosen for the event was both demure and lovely, and it set off her eyes to great advantage while accenting the creamy complexion of her throat and arms. The double strand of pearls she wore was perhaps a bit much for a luncheon appointment, but she wanted to remind Tristan Carroway of precisely what she would be bringing to their union.
He’d been right about one thing; a formal declaration was turning out to be much more satisfying than a forced marriage to preserve her reputation. And this way her parents would be able to say that Viscount Dare had come to them, and not that she had tricked him into anything. Well, perhaps she had tricked him, but no one else need ever know that.
The clock behind her had just chimed the quarter hour, and she took a breath. She wasn’t precisely excited; rather, she felt expectant. She had put in a good few weeks’ work, and the rewards of that effort were about to materialize at the front door and make her a viscountess.
