A brief conversation was in order. Just a quick word to inform Mr. Mealy she had no intention of marrying him.
She marched across the cobbled street and up the stone walk to Mr. Mealy’s front door and banged the knocker.
His housekeeper opened the front door, and invited her into the foyer to wait. A moment later, she entered Mealy’s gauchely appointed drawing room, with its deep reds, overabundance of gilt, and bare-breasted statuary.
“My dear, my dear, come in,” the older man said, heaving himself from the armchair near the hearth. Eyes gleaming with a now familiar hunger, Mealy inclined his chin toward the housekeeper. A moment later, air whooshed at Georgina’s back and the door thumped shut, sealing her in with the man.
“I think I can guess why you’ve come,” Mr. Mealy said. “Your parents informed you of our arrangement?”
“Indeed, sir, that is precisely what I wish to speak with you about.”
He smiled and gestured toward the sofa. “Don’t be shy, m’dear.Come closer.”
Georgina thought not. “Thank you, but I prefer to stand as our meeting shall be brief. Sir, I will be blunt. I cannot possibly marry you.”
“No? Whyever not?” With a peeved glance toward the dismissed sofa, he started in her direction.
“I do not think—no, I amcertainwe would not suit. And though I do appreciate your willingness to assist my father in his current circumstance—”
“You refer to the fortune-crushing wager he lost?”
“Er…Fortune crushing?”
“Entirely.”
Oh dear. She had acquired a decent savings, and the possibility had not occurred to her that her father’s loss might be beyond her ability to pay.
No matter. If necessary, she would borrow the funds.
“Be that as it may, I am prepared to return your…loan.”
“Really? And where would do you suppose you would come up with enough blunt to do so?” He chuckled, seeming very sure of himself.
“That is my problem.”
“Be that as it may, I think not,” he said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I will not sell the IOUs. I am happy with the original bargain.”
“Perhaps you do not comprehend me, sir. I will not marry you under any circumstance.”
He drew to a halt before her, standing entirely too close. “No?”
She neither cared for the man’s overly strong aftershave, nor the canny look he sent her, as if he knew something she did not. “But you will, Lady Georgina.”
She frowned at him, quite sure she was not going to like what he said next.
“You see, I know your secret.”
“My…secret?”
“Indeed. And I’m quite sure you do not want it getting out.”
She forced a laugh. “I have no notion what you mean. Which secret might that be?” she asked, striving for flippancy.
In all seriousness, if he had, through some mystery, caught wind of a secret of hers, there were two distinct possibilities what it might be. One involved her career as an authoress. Might her father or mother have inadvertently spilled the beans?
