She smiled up at him, triumph gleaming in her cold eyes.
He grazed her cheek with his knuckles.
Her skin was soft. But not nearly as soft as Georgina’s. Nothing about her was as soft as Georgina. And nothing about her inspired any sort of tender emotion in him, either. Had it ever? He’d felt a brief attraction, certainly, and a duty to please his father, a man cut from the same mold as Catherine. As himself, for that matter.
But he’d changed. Partially from his time in the war, and partially thanks to the gift of not remembering who he’d been raised to be long enough to explore being who he’d alwayswantedto be. The person his closest friend, Georgina’s brother Drake had always encouraged him to be.
And Georgina, too, in her way. Even before she’d claimed him as hers, she had a knack for making him feel more handsome, more charming, more talented than, in reality, he could ever hope to be. Because she loved him—even then, she had. God knew why.
And God knew she still loved him.
Drake had known she did—and cautioned him to leave her be. But he hadn’t warned him off, entirely. What had he said?Tame your demons before you even think about my sister like that.
“You wanted me to grow up first, didn’t you, Drake? But you always knew she’d be mine,” he whispered, though his friend was not around to hear him.
“I beg your pardon?” Catherine stared at him as if he was deranged.
He got to his feet and strode for the exit. Where to begin? How to unravel this mess?
“Excuse me, where are you going?” Catherine demanded.
Nearly to the door, he glanced back at her. He’d all but forgotten Catherine’s presence.
“Oh, didn’t I say? I have to go take care of a matter involving my wife.” He smiled, rather enjoying the sound of that. “Jenkins will see you out.” He took another step, then paused, looking back once more. “And Catherine? Some friendly advice.”
She stared at him, clearly stupefied.
“I wouldn’t breathe a word of any of this. Not to anyone. To say the earl would be displeased would be to put it mildly. Frankly, I don’t think your reputation would survive the backlash. But that’s between the two of you. As for me, I’m afraid I could not care less.”
Teddy paced beforethe mews, awaiting his carriage.
He knew only he needed to act. To prove to Georgina that she was his, and not just by issue of some official document binding her to him as his legal, wedded wife. She’d made promises with her eyes, with her body, with her professions of love, and he meant to hold her to them.
She loved him. She did. So why, in the name of everything holy, was she doing her damnedest to rid herself of him—because that’s what she’d intended, blithely announcing her betrothal to another.
Think, man. If he knew Georgina, and he did, maybe better than she knew herself, her attempt to cut him loose would be motivated by…
A misguided desire to protect him.
Ofcourse. Hadn’t she already proven she would risk anything for him? Just as she could be stubborn to a fault when it came to safeguarding him. Why hadn’t he considered that when he first went to her, demanding answers?
Because of his pride. Because of his own guilt. Because he knew he didn’t really deserve her.
Bullocks to that. She needed him as much as he needed her. Which meant he must uncover whatever she perceived as a threat to him and neutralize it. But how, damn it?
The carriage emerged from the mews and Teddy made haste toward it, gesturing for his groom to remain atop the box. “Number 37 Rally Street,” he said and leapt inside the conveyance.
A moment later, the carriage lurched into motion.
He would go to her. Simply demand that she tell him the truth—that she loved him.
But, glancing out at the passing scenery, uncertainty plagued him. Hadn’t he already tried that? And what had she said? That she wished to pursue her own interests.
This after first claiming her spontaneous journey home owed to her father having contracted an unexpected illness.
But what if neither was the case?
What if—and this seemed far more likely—a gambling loss by her father had actually precipitated her summons home, as his first instinct had warned?
