She blinked, trying to make sense of the widow’s words. “I begyour pardon?”
“You wed Lord Theodore Arlington only last week, did you not?”
Her mouth gaped, briefly. “How did you…” She shook her head to clear it. How the woman learned of the pretense was not important. “It was not a real wedding. More of a reenactment that was, in actuality, a first enactment.”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon waved a gloved hand. “Perhaps I am misinformed. In any case, I am very sorry for the conundrum you face. You obviously care a great deal for your parents, who, in my opinion, do not merit your concern. They should be looking after you, and not the reverse.”
Georgina fought a wave of gloom. “Be that as it may, do you have any notion where my father has been gambling. Perhaps, if I speak to the establishment—”
“That would be exceedingly unwise, Lady Arlington. Not only will approaching the hells lead you into unsafe arenas, if your father’s debts have been paid, that will mark an end in their interest in the matter.”
Georgina’s heart sank. “I see.”
“Even if you could buy the debt, I have already explained that way lies disaster—for you. Your father needs to want to stop gambling. Even then, doing so will be a lifelong challenge for him, I’m afraid.
“My advice? You are a grown woman. Simply decline the proposal and be done with it.”
Georgina twined her hands before her, needing to move, or scream. “I have. Or rather, I had. But, then I learned of several complications.”
“Such as?”
“Aside from not wishing to see harm befall my parents…”
The widow waited, motionless.
“The man who procured Father’s vowels claims to have learned my secret.”
“Which secret is that?” Mrs. Dove-Lyon asked, her voice low.
“I am not certain. There is my career as an authoress. Should the public learn that G. T. Arlington and I are the same, I may find myself shunned. My readers may decide they no longer enjoy my books. Even so, having considered the matter, the loss of my career is a risk I am willing to face.”
“Better to brave that than a life ensnared by a blackmailer, hmm?”
“Yes.”
“But you are not sure if that is the secret the man holds, which implies there is a second secret.”
“Indeed. And herein lies the crux of the matter. The secret involves…”
Abruptly, the distinct sound of voices raised in dispute came from the corridor outside the chamber, loud enough to draw both Georgina’s and the gambling hell proprietress’s attention. They both eyed the closed door just as it swung open.
Teddy surged forward, his tall, lean frame filling the doorway. Two men scrabbled after him, each grasping one of his arms in their meaty fists.
“Let me go,” he snarled, struggling to evade his captors. Then, he met Georgina’s stunned eyes. “I knew it. Iknewthat was you. Bloody hell, Georgina. I am quite certain I told you should a need arise for another visit to the illustrious Black Widow of Whitehall, I would be the one to pay it.”
Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s mouth curved in a slow smile. She raised one gloved hand. “At ease, gentlemen. I believe Lord Arlington merely wishes to speak with his wife.”
Though clearly disgruntled by the directive, the brawny men released Teddy.
Straightening, he tugged at his cuffs, every bit the Viscount of Helmsley and future Earl of Ainsworth, and Georgina could not take her eyes off of him.
“Actually, madam,” he said, addressing Mrs. Dove-Lyon, “it is youwith whom I wish to speak, but I would like a moment to confer with Lady Arlington, first.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Teddy waited asMrs. Dove-Lyon vacated the small parlor, never once taking his eyes off of Georgina. In the Lyon’s Den—again. In a man’s suit. It was too much.
The door closed with a soft snick.
