The butler appeared from the hallway, blinking at her with faint surprise.
“Lady Pembroke?—”
“Is he in the study?” she cut in, already striding forward.
“Yes, my lady?—”
“Thank you,” she called over her shoulder, not slowing her pace.
Her gloves were already half off by the time she reached the study door. She didn’t bother knocking.
She flung it open and found Jason seated at his desk, jacket off, shirtsleeves rolled to his forearms, quill poised over a stack of papers.
He looked up immediately, brows knitting as he took in her flushed cheeks and bright eyes.
“Georgie?” he asked, rising. “What’s wrong?”
She crossed the room in a few quick steps and dropped the folded paper squarely in front of him.
He glanced at it, then back at her, his green eyes darkening. “What is this?”
“It’s from Lord Henderville,” she said shortly.
Jason’s jaw tightened, and he picked up the paper, unfolding it carefully.
Georgie crossed her arms, tapping her foot on the rug as he scanned it in silence.
When he reached the end, he let out a faint huff of something that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, though there was no humor in it.
She frowned. “You’re laughing?” she asked, more than a little confused.
Jason shook his head, setting the paper down with deliberate calm. “It’s exactly what I thought it would be,” he said simply.
She blinked at him, caught off guard. “What is it?”
“I heard,” he admitted, finally meeting her gaze. “That man’s been sniffing around my affairs the last fortnight. I should have met with him before now. I knew he would not let you go easily. I certainly wouldn’t if I were in his position.”
She eyed him carefully. “He sounded as if the document contained a threat.”
Jason’s mouth curved faintly, though his eyes stayed serious. “It does…of a sort.” He sighed. “There are…things about my past,” he said carefully, “that aren’t exactly scandalous, but also not something I’d want splashed across the gossip sheets.”
Georgie nodded slowly. She knew Jason would have an explanation. “Like what?”
Jason straightened slightly, looking almost sheepish now.
“Several years ago,” he began, “I invested—rather foolishly—in a shipping venture that turned out to be a front for smuggling French silks and brandy. The venture collapsed, of course. I withdrew as soon as I discovered the truth, but…”
He gestured vaguely to the paper. “…not before my name appeared on certain documents.”
She stared at him for a long moment, then narrowed her eyes. “That’s it?” she asked.
He arched a brow. “Well, I suppose some would find it damning.”
She snorted. “Please. My father is the most shameless spendthrift in town, I think I can handle a husband who accidentally invested in contraband.”
That startled a short laugh out of him, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward.
She, however, wasn’t done yet. “Fortunately,” she said, straightening her spine and tilting her chin, “I…no, we…happen to have an ace up our sleeves.”
