The Duke and Duchess of Kenilworth lived in Grosvenor Street.
The duchess had made herself abundantly clear about her wishes regarding her brother. Georgiana was not, under any circumstances, to breath a word about any of this business to Lord Haslemere. Given such a restriction, it seemed…unwise for Georgiana to appear on the duchess’s doorstep with him.
She drew in a deep breath to steady her voice, and asked, “Is it too much trouble for your coachman to take me on to Maddox Street, my lord?”
“Certainly, he will. Right after we see Jane.”
She grasped his arm, her fingernails sinking into the damp superfine of his coat sleeve. “Do you think it’s wise to call on hernow, my lord?”
Lord Haslemere stared down at her hand clutching his sleeve, his brows rising. “It’s generally safe enough for me to pay a callon my sister.”
But it wasn’t at all safe for Georgiana. She couldnotappear on the Duchess of Kenilworth’s doorstep with Lord Haslemere. She simply couldn’t, not without all of her plans toppling over like a house of cards. “I don’t think you want your sister to realize you’re poking into her secrets, my lord. It’s best if she continues to think you’re staying in Surrey for the season—”
Georgiana broke off, wishing she could rip her tongue out. She realized how badly she’d fumbled at once, but by then, it was already too late.
Lord Haslemere went oddly still, then without warning he seized hold of her wrist and tugged her across the carriage onto the bench beside him, close enough so she was practically in his lap. He tipped her chin up and stared down at her with blazing dark eyes. “Now, just how would you know I’m meant to be spending the season in Surrey, I wonder?”
“I…Lady Darlington must have mentioned—”
“No, she didn’t. Lord and Lady Darlington have been expecting me in London all week. Oh, princess.” His fingers tightened on her chin. “I think you’re the one who’s keeping secrets.”
Chapter Nine
Benedict gazed into wide eyes gone a moody golden-brown, like sunlight on autumn leaves, and wondered if that was the color they turnedwhen she lied.
“I insist you take me back to Maddox Street at once, Lord Haslemere.” Georgiana tried to jerk free of his grasp, but Benedictheld her fast.
“But I’m so enjoying your company, Georgiana.” His lips curved in a smirk, but his words were far closer to the truth than he wished they were, even now, when he knew she’d been lying to him.
“Then there’s that other small matter of your dishonesty.” He raised her chin higher, fascinated by the rich, chocolate brown melting at the outer edges of those gold eyes. “I don’t care for liars, Georgiana.”
He was angry with her, yes, and not his usual, tepid discontent. This anger was a searing, belly-deep fire that made his fists clench, his skin heat. Yet at the same time he was achingly aware of the soft glide of her skin under his fingertips, her teeth worrying at her trembling lower lip.
“Perhaps Kenilworth isn’t as sure of Lord Draven’s friendship as Mrs. Bury imagines he is,” he murmured, leaning closer so he could read her secrets in her eyes. “Perhaps he did wonder if his dear old friend Draven had betrayed him, and hiredyouto discover the truth.”
She swallowed. “You can’t truly believe the Duke of Kenilworth would be so wicked as to send a half-dozen blackguards to assault Lord Draven.”
Benedict’s gaze darted to her long, pale throat, then back to her eyes. They were darker than he’d ever seen them now, opaque. So beautiful still, but they were the color of shadows, of secrets and lies. “Why not? He’s a man, just like any other.”
“Anhonorableman, my lord. I’ve never heard a single whisper against him. All of London sings his praises.”
Benedict laughed softly. “Ah, but you see, Georgiana, that’s just what I’d expect someone who’s working for the duke to say. All of Lady Clifford’s girls are clever, butyou—you’re the cleverest of them all. Which is either a very good or a very bad thing, depending on whose side you’re on. So, tell me, princess. Whose side are you on?”
“My own side, and Lady Clifford’s side.”
Benedict said nothing as he let his gaze drift over her. How innocent she looked, with those wide, wary eyes. But she was up to her neck in this business of Jane’s. He’d suspected it since the first moment he saw her at Lady Wylde’s, in her bronze gown and black masque.
Now he had her, and he didn’t intend to let her go until she told him everything she knew. “I’ll give you one more chance to tell me the truth, Georgiana. If you truly are on Lady Clifford’s side, you’ll take it. If not, you’ll lose the Mill Street building.”
He released her then, and she turned her face away from him at once, no doubt to hide her expression. Benedict waited, a chill settling at the base of his spine as the silence dragged on, unbroken but for the cacophony of doubts crashing against the inside of his skull.
Had he pushed her too far? Despite the tension between them, Benedict couldn’t make himself believe she’d refuse to tellhim the truth—
“The Duke of Kenilworth didn’t hire me, Lord Haslemere.” Georgiana turned away from the window to face him. “Your sister did.”
“Jane?” For a moment, Benedict was too stunned to reply. “But…why?”
“To find Clara Beauchamp, or so she said.” Georgiana sighed. “Things have become quite a bit more complicated since then.”
