“A hard year?” Miss Wood muttered, hands still outstretched with her dripping glass.
I knew what she’d done. What she’d really intended. It was mean and cruel, but she’d done it for me. To vindicate me.
“Smile, Miss Wood. Everyone is watching.”
She grinned fully then as I took out my handkerchief and handed it to her in exchange for her now near-empty glass. We moved to a quiet corner, and I placed her glass and mine on a nearby table while she removed and dried her gloves as best she could.
“It turns out I’ve lost my touch. I cannot even properly wine a lady’s dress.”
I bit back my grin. It was the most devilish thing to say, but also, in some twisted way, the nicest thing anyone hadever done for me. “I think your efforts still had the intended effect.”
“You think so?” She seemed almost ... hopeful. “For a man once besotted by her, you seemed rather unaffected.”
“Well, in truth—and I think you deserve the truth after that—” I smirked. “We’d only met once before I offered for her. And that man, Mr. Winston? She fell in love with him during our engagement.”
Her hands stilled. “Well, that sounds ... awful. You must’ve felt—”
“Angry.” I swallowed, thinking back to all I’d done. My demands and abuses from past actions. I found I did not want to tell her. I did not want Georgiana to think ill of me, despite the reality that she should. She should find my actions incredibly appalling. She should fear me, as the Winstons did. “Things did not end well between us.”
Georgiana tilted her head and smiled. “What did you do?”
She’d look at me differently if I told her. That smile would falter. Fear would fill her eyes. But I’d done it. So I’d own to it. “I tried to force her hand. Told her I’d ruin her Mr. Winston’s life and prospects if she did not marrymeinstead. Her father wouldn’t hear of it. Made me a very nice deal in exchange for releasing her.”
Georgiana’s smiledidfalter. But not with fear. She seemed, were it possible, even more curious than before. “A fortunate woman, Mrs. Winston, to have had her father there to save her.”
“What just happened?” Maggie seethed as she stormed toward us. Her eyes widened when she saw Georgiana’s gloves.
“Just having a friendly conversation with the Winstons and company.” I looked to Georgiana, who returned my smirk.
She turned to Georgiana. “What on earth did you do?”
“Margaret,” I warned her. She might not like Georgiana, but she would not speak to her with such a tone. Not anymore.
“I think I made an error in judgment,” Georgiana said, unaffected by Maggie’s clear derision.
Deuces, why didIcare what Maggie thought? “Miss Wood attempted to pour wine down the new Mrs. Winston’s gown.”
Georgiana held up her red-stained gloves. “Unfortunately I wined an innocent instead.”
Maggie looked between us like we were children caught with muddy boots and berry-stained fingers. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from laughing. She turned to Georgiana with wide eyes. “Why on earth would you do such a thing?”
“I did not mean to.” Georgiana looked heavenward. “Miss Ollertonstepped between us at the exact moment—”
“Why would you attempt to wine Mrs. Winston in the first place?” Maggie’s voice rose, so she cleared her throat and looked round, smiling at the nosy eyes behind us.
Georgiana reared back with a look that said,Isn’t it obvious?
I shrugged.
She sighed, tugging her stained gloves back on regretfully. When at last she spoke, her voice came out calm and sure. “Because she hurt Marlow. And that is what friends do.”
Maggie seemed surprised by her answer. Her gaze foundmine and hung there. Measuring. As though, perhaps, she’d missed something.
Just then, a servant announced dinner.
Georgiana looked down at her gloves, and I wished I had another pair to give her.
Maggie sighed. “You are as mad as they say, Miss Wood.”
