What could I say? As a gentleman, I couldn’t agree to not marry. “You have the power, Miss Wilcox. It’s in your hands as I was before. I’ll do what you wish.”
She bit her lip, then said, “I don’t think—”
“Quiet.” Her sister covered the goddess’s mouth with a shaking palm. Then she lowered it. “Our mother went to great lengths to keep us respectable. You know that. I’ve done . . . you have too. This must work or everything is ruined.”
“No, Katherine. The past has nothing to do with now.”
The duke stood and sat at the front of his desk. “Miss Wilcox, what Lady Hampton isn’t saying well, is that begging off now will let the ton believe the worst, that Sebastian never had any intention of marrying you. The reporters will ruin your name, damaging you and your younger sisters’ prospects. What the paper-men love is to stain Blackamoor women for wanting too much or gaining advantageous marriages or possessing things the ton doesn’t think they deserve.”
“No,” Georgina said. “I don’t—”
Lady Hampton groaned. “The papers will think you’re a doxy.”
“Or a courtesan.” The word flowed from my lips before I could stop it. “I made the same error in the garden.”
The viscountess looked as if she would vomit. The duke closed his eyes and mumbled in Russian.
The goddess in question ran from the room.
Chapter 11
GEORGINA—ESCAPE INTO THEGARDENAGAIN
Trying not to slip on the polished floors of Anya House, I rushed past Scarlett and Lydia. They were on the stairs but didn’t stop their chatter. Me fleeing was a common occurrence.
“Miss, please wait.”
The gentleman chased after me.
In the garden, I was close to the maze’s entrance, but I stopped. I still didn’t know the way to the mews.
“Please. Miss Wilcox. Can we imagine that I caught you? And we do have an audience.”
Turning, I could see the window to the duke’s study. Katherine’s face was pressed against the glass. Then the duke closed the curtains.
“I suppose that means His Grace trusts you to convince me to return.”
Lord Mark Sebastian traipsed in front of me. “I don’t care about their antics. It’s ours—”
“Our antics? Don’t you mean mine? I’ve gotten us into this predicament.”
When I glanced at the gentleman to witness his agreement, I saw nothing but smiles. “What is this, sir? Why are you not angry?”
“Because I can talk, actually say words with you. I struggle with expressing clear thoughts with someone so beautiful.”
He seemed sincere. “I’m happy that you can be entertained, but our futures are ruined because of my impetuous nature.” I crossed my arms. I needed to leave Anya House . . . London . . . be anywhere but here. “Can you point me to the mews?”
“You can’t go. We have to work this out.”
“I don’t want to be a bother. And I don’t want someone to feign liking me, even for a moment.”
He stepped closer to me. “I kissed you back because I wanted to do so. I enjoyed every moment. If I must pretend to be your fiancé, I’ll do it with pride.”
I shielded my eyes from the bright sun, which made me squint at him. “I’ve made such a muddle of things.”
“Because you wanted to kiss me. Could I at least be humored? Did you find me irresistible?”
With a shrug I started to laugh. “It was to make my sister angry.”
