“Are you staring at me?” the Duke asked, rather softly.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“You have beautiful eyes,” she breathed before she was consciously aware of the words.
She blushed furiously, wishing she had the words back. The Duke colored too, coughed, and looked away, which surprised her.
“A thing cannot be beautiful that is flawed.”
“I disagree,” Georgia grinned, emboldened by his coyness, “the color of your eyes is remarkable. The fact that you cannot see doesn't detract from that.”
“Are you trying to seduce me?” he asked.
Yes! Oh God, yes!
The thought shocked Georgia back to her senses. She stepped backward, turning away. It was as though a spell had been cast over her. She fought to bring her mind back into order.
“I wanted to ask for your help,” she started again. “In exchange, you will have my full co-operation in this marriage of convenience. I will play my part,” she continued, halting and stammering.
She retreated further from him, but he swept forward, suddenly catching her arm. How he knew precisely where to find it, she could not tell, but suddenly she was close to him once more. His face was hard. Remorseless.
“Do you try to bargain with me?” he demanded.
“Yes,” Georgia gasped. “I wish to know what has become of my brother Elias Roseton. He went missing, but I cannot afford the services of an investigator. If you will...”
Suddenly, the Duke released her.
“I see,” he said flatly. “This was your plan all along, yes?”
“No. There was no plan. I acted in the heat of the moment. I... I...” She did not know how to defend herself.
There is nothing I can say that does not sound like I planned this all along…
“As it happens, I make use of a very good man, formerly of the Bow Street Runners. I will put you in contact with him. Agreed?”
If there had been a brief thaw in the ice, winter had now returned. His voice was cold and steely. Georgia sighed.
“Agreed.”
“Come then,” the Duke said briskly, “let us get married.”
CHAPTER 8
TWO DAYS LATER
Georgia basked in the warm sunshine on her face as she sat at a wrought iron table on the edge of the lawn. The grass was long and a luscious emerald green in color. Wildflowers were poking up through the stems in reds and yellows. While she had waited for breakfast, Georgia had picked a few, weaving them together into a crown that she now wore.
She was served by her new lady's maid, a young girl named Dorothy, who was painfully shy but very attentive in her duties. Dorothy appeared from the house carrying a tray. When she glimpsed Georgia's crown, she almost dropped it.
“Oh my, Your Grace. I'm terribly sorry–took me fair by surprise!” she yelped, blushing furiously.
“I'll make you one if you like,” Georgia giggled, used to having a relaxed attitude towards staff. Living with them tended to have that effect.
“I'm sure I couldn't, Your Grace. Mrs. Marks would have a fit.”
She kept her eyes downcast when she spoke.
