The Lady’s Secret (24 page)

It wasn’t until a week after Georgy’s arrival at the Bloomsbury house that real life intruded. One week of almost entirely blissful happiness, blighted only by her worry about Harry. Nathan ventured out once or twice, but for the most part, they stayed in the house, spending almost every minute together.

Being with Nathan felt so right. For years, she wondered why she’d not felt entirely at home even in the midst of so many good friends. Somehow their kindness and concern couldn’t quite compensate for the lack inside her. But she hadn’t had Nathan then. He had stepped into the bit of empty space in her heart and made it his own.

Real life came, however, and in the form of Lily, who arrived in a closed carriage and swept into the house, dramatically veiled. She sashayed into the drawing room behind Goudge, her gaze quickly taking in the rich furnishings before fastening on Georgy. Georgy had already explained that she was living here as Miss Fellowes, but she had told her friend little else.

“Lily!” she exclaimed, jumping out of her chair and smiling widely. Lily smiled back and embraced her, but when they broke apart, she caught at Georgy’s elbows.

“Are you all right?” she said, under her voice.

“Could you bring a tea tray, Mr. Goudge?” Georgy asked the hovering butler over Lily’s shoulder. Goudge nodded solemnly and bowed himself out of the room.

When he was gone, she turned back to Lily. “Sit down before you start interrogating me, won’t you, Lil?”

Lily smiled but her expression was tense. “I’m sorry, but I’ve been worried about you. I’ve not heard from you since you left London—and then the news about Harry came—and now this. You here, in Harland’s love nest, living as a woman—” She broke off with a laugh, incredulous.

Love nest.
The words lodged uncomfortably in Georgy’s brain.

Lily was staring at her expectantly. But despite her concerned words, there was a confidence in her expression that told Georgy her friend believed there was an innocent explanation for this, and things were not as she feared. She felt oddly offended by that confidence.

“We’re lovers,” she blurted.

Lily paled and lifted her hand to her mouth. “Oh, my god!” she said at last. That was all. After a minute she said it again.

Georgy resented the stab of guilt it caused her. What had she to feel guilty about? And how dare Lily, of all people, react like this?

They sat together on the opulent scarlet sofa that dominated the room. The upholstery looked garish on this January day. Georgy let her fingertips whisper over it. She could tell it wasn’t as good as it ought to be for a house like this. Flashy but inferior.

“Have you any idea what Harry is going to say about this?” Lily asked at last.

“It’s nothing to do with him,” Georgy replied.

Lily gaped at her. “He’s your brother!”

“Exactly. Not my father or my husband. He needn’t even know.”

Lily laughed incredulously and stood up. “He’ll kill me,” she said, almost more to herself than to Georgy.

“Don’t be absurd.”

“I’m not being absurd! I’m the one who suggested you become Harland’s valet! It’s all my fault. Harry will blame me and rightly so!”

“For god’s sake, of course he won’t!”

Lily fished a handkerchief out of her reticule and dabbed her eyes.

“Bloody hell, Lil, will you put the hanky away? This is not a terrible thing! I’m
happy!
Truly! Not so long ago you were urging me to find my own Sir Nigel. Well, now I have.”

Lily groaned loudly. “God, George, don’t remind me. I didn’t mean it! I was teasing you! Having a Sir Nigel is fine for me—but not for you. I would never have said it if I thought you would pay me the blindest bit of notice!”

Georgy stiffened. “It’s fine for you but not for me?”

Lily threw up her hands. “Exactly. My old dad was poor—a labourer. I wasn’t born with a reputation, like you. George, your reputation is
worth
something—or was. But you’ve thrown it away like a fool!”

“I’m not a fool,” Georgy replied in a low voice.

“You are!” Lily cried hoarsely. “You’ve thrown yourself away! Harry is the Earl of Dunsmore and you’re his sister. You could have married any man you wanted—Harland himself, if you liked him so much. But now you’re just a soiled dove, like me. I thought you had more sense, George!”

Georgy shook her head angrily. “Me, marry anyone I want? Marry
Harland?
Is that really how you thought this debacle was going to turn out?” She laughed harshly. “Even if Harry
is
the Earl of Dunsmore, we’ll never prove it. Do you know what I found at Dunsmore Manor?
Nothing.
Yes, that’s right. Nothing—or as good as. God, Lily, it’s not so long ago you were the one saying Harry should give up on the whole thing!”

Lily paled. “I know. I just hoped there would be something.”

“Well, there isn’t. And now Dunsmore’s realised we’ve been sniffing around and he’s come after us. Harry’s been attacked. The carriage I was travelling back to London in was sabotaged. And when I tried to leave Harland’s townhouse, I was set upon. We’ll be lucky if we manage to stay alive!”

Lily stared at her, her face white. “Tell me it’s not that bad.”

Georgy felt an immediate pang of guilt. “I’m sorry. Don’t listen to me—I’m being over-dramatic. Harland’s going to intervene with Dunsmore. Sort things out, he said. Maybe it will all work out.”

She sounded unconvinced, even to her own ears.

After a pause, Lily said, “So you found nothing?”

“Not quite nothing. I found some letters—they were enough to convince me that Harry was right and Mama was murdered—but they’re certainly not proof of any marriage.”

Goudge entered then with the tea tray.

“Look, let’s have some tea,” Georgy said. “I’ll tell you everything.”

An hour later she had finished her story, including a brief explanation of how she had come to occupy Nathan’s bed. It was plain that nothing she said had changed Lily’s view that she had made a grave error. As Georgy skated over the details, Lily’s lips thinned until she looked more like a disapproving vicar’s wife than an actress of no little notoriety.

It was not the most fortuitous moment for Nathan to arrive. He entered the drawing room without knocking and visibly started at the sight of Lily. As for Lily, her teacup rattled in her saucer and her cheeks reddened.

“Miss Hawkins, good afternoon,” he said after a pause. “Georgy, I didn’t realise you had a friend visiting today.”

It hadn’t occurred to her that he would be remotely interested. She felt flustered and faintly guilty for no particular reason.

“Good afternoon, Lord Harland.” Lily’s tone was tight and reserved. Georgy’s gaze flickered between. She sensed disapproval from Nathan and anger from Lily.

“Are you sure it’s quite safe for you to come here, Miss Hawkins?” Nathan asked. “Georgiana has been attacked twice in the last week. If you have been followed, you may have compromised her safety.”

Lily’s mouth tightened further. “You may rest assured I have been exceedingly careful,” she said in a cool tone Georgy rarely heard from her friend. “I left the theatre in disguise this morning and went to a friend’s house in a hack. I changed my dress there and put a veil on before coming here. I shall go back to the theatre in another hack, if you will be good enough to summon one.”

The tension in Nathan’s expression relaxed minutely—he even gave Lily a small smile. “Ah, good,” he said. “We must be careful. And there is no need for a hack. John will take you back.”

“That would be most obliging,” Lily said icily, standing.

“I’m glad at least one of you has some common sense,” Nathan went on, as though he didn’t notice Lily’s frigid tone and Georgy’s silence. “Georgiana has an irritating habit of placing herself in constant danger.”

Georgy felt a twinge of anger at the indirect scold. “I have common sense,” she protested.

“You used to,” Lily muttered, “before you threw your virtue away—on him.”

“Lily!” Georgy felt her face flame. She glanced at Nathan, embarrassed, expecting him to look embarrassed too, though possibly in an amused way.

He looked more shocked than embarrassed, though. Shocked—and something else. His expression closed down and suddenly he was wearing his armoured look. The expressionless mask that he adopted whenever he felt cornered or defensive. God, she hated that look. It was like a locked door.

“Nathan—” She rose to her feet.

“I see you wasted no time telling your friends about us.”

“
One
friend,” she said. “Nathan, for goodness’ sake. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Why couldn’t you leave her alone?” Lily interjected, as though Georgy hadn’t spoken. “She’s not like me, she’s a
lady
. And you’ve ruined her.”

“Lily!” Georgy took a step towards her friend, grabbing her wrist to get her attention which remained fixed on Harland. “Stop this! It has nothing to do with you.”

“
Ruined
her?” Nathan repeated, his tone incredulous. “Remind me who we’re talking about, pray. Princess Charlotte?”

Georgy opened her mouth to berate Lily again. Then closed it and turned her head to Nathan. His colour was up, his jaw clenched, an expression of self-righteous anger on his face.

Slowly she opened her hand and released Lily’s wrist, turning to face him fully.

“What do you mean by that?” She was genuinely curious, but aware, too, of a distant anger like a far-off flame.

He frowned at her. “I don’t mean anything by it. Why? Are
you
saying that I’ve ruined you now?”

She shook her head. “No. That’s not how I see—this. But what do you mean by saying I’m not Princess Charlotte?”

He flushed and his gaze shifted. Something about that movement made her heart sink.

“Well you’re not, are you?” he said, at last.

“That’s not what you meant. What did you
mean
by it?”

As if she didn’t know.
He means you’re no lady. He means you don’t matter.

He stepped towards her, between her and Lily, turning his back on the other woman in an ill-mannered way—an ineffective attempt to maintain some privacy between them.

“Georgy, what
is
this?”

She just stared at him and the faint colour across his cheekbones deepened.

Lily spoke. “I should go.”

“Yes,” Georgy said. “That would be best, Lily. I’m sorry about this.” She strode to the bell and rang it. A moment later Goudge arrived and Nathan ordered the carriage to be made ready for Miss Hawkins. Once Goudge had left, he turned to the two women again.

“I will leave you to your farewells, ladies. Good day, Miss Hawkins.” He paused in the doorway, fixing Georgy with a steady look. “I’ll be in the library. Come and see me when Miss Hawkins has gone, if you please.”

Georgy stared at the door after he’d left, stirring only when Lily’s hand touched her shoulder.

“George. I’m so sorry.”

Georgy nodded. She felt raw, unable to speak about what had just happened.

“But it’s better that you understand the way a man like that sees a woman who allows him to bed her,” Lily said. “He will never respect you, I’m afraid. They don’t.”

Some part of Georgy rebelled against Lily’s words. What she had shared with Nathan was different to the usual sort of thing, wasn’t it? She’d come to believe she was special to him. She’d begun to wonder if they might even have some sort of future together, imbuing a rich man’s extravagant gift with a significance it simply didn’t have. God, she was a fool.

She glanced at herself in the looking glass over the fireplace, at the exquisite ice-blue gown she wore. She saw herself as he must see her. A little novelty. Interesting for a while.

Nothing else.

Nathan paced the library, waiting for Georgy. His thoughts were all over the place, their clarity obscured by the awful suspicions and hurt that had flooded him when the word
ruined
had crossed Lily Hawkins’ lips.

At that precise moment, it had all seemed far too neat. His suspicious mind had swiftly calculated the plot—it was Lily who had sent Georgy to his house in the first place. And now it was Lily who spoke of ruin.

Ruin
. Only ladies could be ruined. And only marriage could save them. Was that what they were hoping for? Had this whole thing been an elaborate scheme to catch Georgy Knight a rich husband?

No.
It was a ridiculous idea, far-fetched in the extreme. But even as he told himself that, the suspicions wouldn’t entirely dissolve. He catalogued the flaws in the half-formed theory and still couldn’t quite put it aside.

It would have been a ridiculous plan to form. Doomed to failure. No one would ever have realised that of all women, Georgy was the sort he would fall in love with—a quiet beauty with an audacious streak.

But he had.

Oh god. He had fallen in love with her.
And it felt nothing like any of his old childish passions. This felt like the sea, deep and vast, possessed of currents beyond his understanding. It felt true and profound. It made him ache to even think of it.

He stopped in the middle of the floor and groaned aloud. Had he been entirely mistaken? Was he so easy a mark?

The door swung open and he turned on his heel to see Georgy standing in the entrance. She stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, then turned and put her hands behind her back.

It struck him as a strange pose, unfeminine somehow. And then he realised what she was doing—standing before him was his valet, Fellowes, expression carefully blank.

“Don’t.” He closed the gap between them and took her upper arm in his hand, pulling her towards him. She tensed against him, and he felt a jolt of satisfaction in her resistance, another in her angry expression. He didn’t want her retreating behind that old servile mask.

“Don’t what?”

“Hide.”

She scowled and walked away from him, going up to a bookshelf and tracing her finger absently over the spines. It was typical of her, the way she would step away and re-order herself by touching the things around her, as though she was connecting herself with her surroundings again. It was a habit he’d come to recognise and seeing it now made his heart ache painfully.