“Beingheld? You make it sound like she is a hostage!” Edric scoffed.
“I do not know that she is not. Only that my Aunt and Uncle, her parents, lied to me about where she was.”
“Perhaps because they did not want you near their daughter,” Edric pointed out.
“Uncle!” Keaton snapped before he’d had time for conscious thought, “That is uncalled for.”
“I merely voice what you must be thinking, if I know you at all,” Edric replied.
“Apologize.”
Edric stood. Keaton heard him straighten his coat with a sharp tug and clear his throat.
“If my words have caused offense… I apologize.”
“Your Grace.”
“Your Grace,” Edric echoed—the words sounded as if they came from between rigid lips.
“N-no apology is necessary, Lord Swinthorpe,” Georgia stammered, sounding surprised.
“It was. And you will not go to this house alone. I will come with you.”
CHAPTER 21
“Describe the house to me,” Keaton asked of Georgia as the carriage came to a halt.
“It seems an ordinary place. Modern, end of the last century, I would say. The park is somewhat overgrown, and there is something of an air of neglect.”
“Very much in keeping with my own aesthetic then,” he murmured wryly.
“I suspect the owner of this house has neglected his garden entirely, rather than choosing plants for their smells or their looks,” she shrugged.
Georgia felt a tension within her that had not gone away since she read the note from Mrs. Pewter. It did not help that both Keaton and Lord Swinthorpe had advanced logical arguments against Amelia being in any difficulty. At least not the kind of difficulty that was the business of anyone outside of the family.
But sheismy family. The daughter of my mother’s sister. And she has always looked to me for guidance and advice.
The driver opened her door, and Georgia descended from the carriage, then waited for Keaton. She marveled at his agility and dexterity, doubting that she would be capable of moving with as much confidence if she were blind.
I would not move from my bed out of sheer terror. I cannot imagine how he does it!
He offered his arm and she took it, turning them both to face the house and taking the first step towards it. Georgia found her mind wandering as it always did when in Keaton’s company. His arm was solid and steady as a mountain under her light touch. His muscles were cables of steel, their strength evident. She thought about sitting on the chaise with him, utterly naked. Thought of him moving closer, becoming aware of her nudity. The first touch, simply to her cheek to confirm that she had been blushing...
He would have felt the same heat all over my body.
That led her to wild imaginings of Keaton doing that very thing, exploring her nakedness with deft fingers and strong hands. His rough, scarred hands moving over her soft, virginal body. Feeling her softness, her wetness… Her breath caught as she tripped ascending the stone steps leading to the front door.
“Need me to lend you my sight?” Keaton whispered.
“It was slippery,” Georgia muttered.
She took hold of a brass door knocker and used it to rap three times on the door. Presently, it was opened by a maid who promptly seemed overawed by the ranks which Keaton gave for himself and Georgia.
“The master is not at home, but her Ladyship is,” the maid stammered.
“Would that be Lady Amelia Vexley?” Georgia asked.
The maid shook her head. “No, Lady Jane Montgomery, Your Grace.”
