The Rake (9 page)

"I knew you could do it!" Georgiana laughed.

"I'm so glad you suggested this,
Georgie
," Edwina said, beaming. "It's a miracle."

Tristan sent her a sharp look,
then
went back to maneuvering his aunt in a wide circle around the coach. When
Milly
claimed exhaustion, they pulled down the wheeled chair and set it beneath a tree for her. Niles laid out the blankets and the basket of food while Georgiana attended to her charge.

"Luncheon is served, my lord," Niles said, bowing.

They seated themselves in a semicircle around
Milly
while the footman offered them Madeira and sandwiches.
Gimble
had indeed managed to find a quiet spot in one corner of the park. It was very nice, Georgiana decided, to be able to sit and laugh and chat without three or four dozen men all trying to make eye
contact or ride their horses by in the most daring fashion possible to catch her attention.

"So with whom will you dance first after your recovery?" she asked, accepting an orange from Edwina.

"I think I shall ask the Duke of Wellington. I considered Prince George, but I don't wish him to become infatuated with me."

"I should like a kitten, if one is still available," Edwina announced.

"I'll send a note over to Lucinda this afternoon," Georgiana promised her.

While Niles cleared the luncheon and
Milly
and Edwina brought out their embroidery, Tristan climbed to his feet. "If you ladies are comfortable, I thought I might stretch my legs a little," he said, brushing a stray leaf from his gray trousers. "Georgiana, would you care to join me?"

She hadn't thought to bring any sewing or a book, dash it all, so she would look like an idiot and a coward if she declined and had to sit there in the grass, staring at her hands. "That would be nice," she said, and allowed him to help her to her feet.

Dare offered her his arm, and with a slight hesitation she wrapped her fingers around his sleeve. "We won't go far," he said to his aunts, and headed toward the path by the pond.

"I hope you didn't mind my mentioning the kitten to Edwina," she said, before he could ask her which mistake she wasn't repeating, or why she had really bullied
him into a picnic. "Since you'd already had a cat in residence, I didn't think you would mind another."

"With four younger brothers, cats are the least of my worries. Why did you suggest the outing today?" he asked, undeterred. "Is it because you want me to apologize for last night?"

Heat crept along her veins. "I scarcely remember last night. It was late, and we were both tired."

"I wasn't tired. I wanted to kiss you. And I think you do remember it." He pulled a box from his pocket and presented it to her. "Which is why I thought you might have need of this today."

She opened it. The fan was even lovelier than the last one, white with small yellow flowers sprinkled amongst the ivory ribs. Georgiana wondered whether he'd realized that the fans she'd cracked over his knuckles were never the ones that he'd given her. Those stayed in a drawer, where she could pretend to ignore them. "Tristan, this is very confusing for me," she said, glad that for once she could speak the truth.

She belatedly realized they were hidden from the aunties by a small stand of elm trees. No one else was in sight at all. "It doesn't have to be," he murmured, and tilted her chin up with his fingers.

Panic rising fast enough to choke her, Georgiana backed away. The first kiss she could blame on Tristan; a second kiss would be equally her own fault. "Please don't."

Tristan froze,
then
closed the space between them
again with one slow step. "If you remembered the way I waltz, you must remember other things, too."

That was the problem. "Are you certain you want to remind m—
"

He leaned down, and feather-light touched his lips to hers, tasting her as though they'd never kissed before. Georgiana sighed and twined her fingers through his wavy dark hair. Lord, she had missed this. She had missed him, the feel of his strong arms around her, and his seeking, beckoning mouth. He deepened the kiss, a small sound coming from deep in his chest.

What was she doing?
Georgiana pulled away again. "Stop it! Stop it, Dare."

He let her go. "There's no one to see, Georgiana. It's just us."

"That's what you said before," she panted, straightening her shawl and glaring at him. Pretty as her new fan was, she was tempted to put it across his skull.

"And you gave in then, too," he said with a slight grin. "You can't blame me, alone. It does take two to do it properly, and as I recall—"

An outraged growl spilling from her chest, Georgiana stepped forward and shoved against his chest.

"Bloody damnation!"
He lost his balance and went backward into the pond.

As he shot to his feet, waist deep in water and with a lily pad sliding from one shoulder, he looked angry enough to spit fire. Georgiana gathered her skirt in her fists and ran.

"Niles!" she yelled as she reached their party.
"
Gimble
!
His Lordship has fallen into the pond. Please help him!"

As Tristan slogged out of the water onto the muddy bank, his servants
came
pounding down the path. "Are you all right, my lord?"
Gimble
called, skidding to a halt and nearly toppling the three of them back into the water. "Lady Georgiana said you had fallen."

Still swearing under his breath, Tristan shrugged out of the servants' grip. "I'm fine," he growled. "Leave be."

She'd certainly drowned his lust, damn her. Niles and
Gimble
at his heels, he stalked back to the coach. Georgiana stood there, apparently explaining his clumsiness to the aunties. As she caught sight of him, she paled.

His first thought was to drag her back to the edge of the pond and toss her in, just so they'd be even. "Put everything back into the coach," he ordered. "We're leaving."

Edwina asked, "Tristan, are you all—"

"I'm fine." He glared at Georgiana. "I fell."

Surprise showed in her green eyes as she rolled
Milly
to the coach. He didn't know what she expected; he certainly wasn't going to start bellowing to all and sundry that he'd kissed her and she'd shoved him into the pond.

Tristan paused. Any other female would have enjoyed his embrace. So he supposed that in a sense, what
she'd
done
was .
..
comforting
. If she'd been planning something underhanded, she certainly wouldn't have risked his anger by dousing him. Given their past, he wouldn't have been surprised by a knee aimed at his nether regions. Being pushed into the duck pond was probably the mildest reaction he could have hoped for. She
was
warming to him, by God.

"Back to
Carroway
House," he said with less heat, helping
Milly
into the coach. Georgiana pulled herself up the steps while he settled his aunt. He sat back, wringing water out of his gray jacket.

"Are you certain you're all right?" Edwina asked, patting his wet knee.

"Yes. I deserved it, I suppose, for teasing the ducks." He wiped water from his eyes. "Silly things didn't realize I meant them no harm."

It wasn't subtle, but his reassurance seemed to work; Georgiana relaxed her clenched fists, though she kept a wary eye on him all the way home and back inside the house.

Once
Milly
was settled, he left the morning room to go change. Georgiana stood in the doorway, and he slowed as he passed her. "I do respond to verbal communication," he murmured into her ear, "Next time. I'll ask."

She turned, following him. "Next time," she said to his back, surprising him into a halt, "perhaps you'll remember that you're courting someone else. Amelia Johns, I believe?"

He faced her. "Is
that
your only quarrel? I haven't declared anything to Amelia. I'm still trying out the length of my patience with the debutante flock."

"What does
she
expect, though? Have you even thought of that, Tristan? Do you ever think of anyone but yourself?"

"I think of you, all the time."

Despite the opening, she said nothing as he continued up the stairs to his bed chamber.
Interesting, that.
And he'd given her something more to reflect, anyway.

Tristan chuckled as he shrugged out of his jacket and his valet burst into the room, weeping at the destruction to his wardrobe. Who would have thought that being thrown in a duck pond could be a good thing?

Milly
stalked back and forth in the morning room. "You see? And you said it was romantic when they went off walking together."

Her wary gaze on the door, Edwina gestured at her sister to sit again. "They both said it was an accident. Besides, they
did
have some sort of quarrel all those years ago," she reminded
Milly
. "You have to expect a bump or two in the road."

"Things did seem to be progressing. This, however, is definitely a setback,
Wina
."

"A small one.
Give them some time."

"Humph. I'm getting tired of sitting about all day."

"
Milly
, if you don't stay in that chair,
Georgie
will have no reason to remain with us."

Milly
sighed and clumped back to her overstuffed
nest. "I know, I know. I just hope I don't get gout again before this is over with. And what about those anonymous letters she's been getting?"

"Well, we'll just have to find out about them, won't we?"

Milly
brightened. "I suppose we will."

So Tristan thought of her. Good. That was what she'd intended. But she doubted he had anything good in mind for her, and if anyone knew better than to fall for the charms of this particular rake, she did.

He might think he hadn't made a declaration to Amelia Johns, but Miss Johns thought he very nearly had. And whether he was lying about the seriousness of his commitment or not, the girl's heart would surely be the next one he broke. So despite the shivers that ran down her arms at the thought of being kissed by the too-experienced viscount, Georgiana would not forget why she had come to
Carroway
House. Her heart would never again rule her head where any man was concerned.

The day's excitement over, she settled back into the morning room with Edwina and
Milly
. If she'd still been at Hawthorne House with Aunt Frederica, the afternoon would have been occupied with taking care of the dowager duchess's correspondence and replying to the dozens of invitations that flooded in daily. Taking an hour or two to read seemed delightfully sinful.

"You know you don't need to waste your entire day here,"
Milly
said into the silence.

Georgiana looked up. "Beg pardon?"

"What I mean to say is, I love having you here, and your company is a joy, but you must find us two old fossils terribly dull compared with your friends."

"Nonsense!
I enjoy being here. Believe me, one can only spend so much time shopping and dancing without finding that very dull, indeed." She straightened as an alarming thought occurred to her. If they'd somehow realized that she'd been responsible for Dare's swim, they might be looking for a polite reason to send her on her way. "Unless you're trying to get rid of me, of course," she said, trying to sound amused.

Edwina shot to her feet and hurried over to grab Georgiana's hand.
"Oh, never!
It's just that..." She looked at her sister.

"It's just that what?" Georgiana asked, her heart sinking even further.

"Well, Tristan said that you've received correspondence from a gentleman. With all of the males here, we thought. ..
perhaps
your letter-writer might be intimidated."

"You mean he might be afraid to call on me here?" Georgiana asked, relieved. "If he were serious, I'm sure he would do so, regardless."

"Just a flirtation then, is it?"
Milly
suggested.

For a moment Georgiana wondered whether it was the aunties or Tristan who was trying to discover the identity of her mystery suitor.
Best to play it safe until she knew for certain.
She sighed. "Yes, I'm afraid so."

"Who is he, dear? Perhaps we can talk some sense into him."

She looked from one to the other. She could never tell them her true plan for Tristan; besides breaking their hearts, the news would make them hate her, when she was truly quite fond of them. "I really prefer not to discuss it, if you don't mind."

"Oh, of course.
It's just that. .." Edwina paused.

"What?" Georgiana asked, her curiosity deepening.

"Nothing.
Nothing at all, dear.
Just a flirtation.
We all like a good flirtation now and then."

Abruptly Georgiana realized what the aunties were up to. They thought they were matchmaking—between her and Tristan, of all people! "A flirtation, of course, is only the beginning," she offered as she sipped her tea. "Who knows what might come of it later?"

They both looked downcast. "Yes, who knows?"

Georgiana suppressed a pang of guilt. At least she could blame all of the subterfuge on Dare; he'd started it. All of this was his fault.

Even the way she almost liked him, sometimes.

She liked him a little less as the extended
Carroway
family sat down for dinner. Despite his soaking in the
duck pond, the look in his eyes was unmistakably superior. As he held her chair for her, Georgiana was tempted to ask him just what he was smirking about, but it probably had something to do with their kiss. If that was it, a little silent gloating was certainly better than his boasting about it aloud.

"You should have seen me, Tristan," Edward chortled, as Dawkins and the footmen passed around the roast chicken and potatoes. "I made Storm Cloud jump over a huge log! We were magnificent, weren't we, Shaw?"

Bradshaw swallowed a mouthful. "It was a sad little twig they jumped, but other than that, the Runt has the tale right."

"It was not a twig! It was a ... a ..." He sent Andrew a pleading look.

"A healthy-sized branch," the second-youngest
Carroway
brother supplied, grinning, "with broken bits sticking up into the air."

"Like a porcupine," Edward finished, his chest jutting out.

"That's stupendous, Edward!" Georgiana said
,
smiling as the boy beamed. "And you know, speaking of porcupines, Tristan had his own adventure with wildlife this afternoon."

"He did?"

"Do tell," Bradshaw entreated.

"
Georgi
—"

"Well, we were strolling along in Hyde Park," she
began, ignoring the black look Dare sent at her, "and I spied a duckling caught in some reeds at the edge of a pond. Your brother rescued the poor thing—"

"—but he fell into the water during the attempt!" Aunt
Milly
finished.

With the exception of Robert, the entire family burst into laughter.

"You fell in a duck pond?" Edward asked through a fit of giggles.

Lord Dare slid his gaze from Georgiana. "Yes, I did. And you know what else?"

"What?"

"
Georgie
gets smelly, perfumed love letters from secret admirers."

Her jaw dropped. "Don't make it sound so ... torrid," she demanded.

Tristan shoved a forkful of potato into his mouth and chewed. "It
is
torrid.
And
very
stinky."

"It is not!"

"Then tell us who they're from, Georgiana."

Color and heat suffused her cheeks. All five
Carroway
brothers were looking at her, four with a mix of humor and curiosity. The expression in the gaze of the fifth one, though, was what kept her attention. Her heart sped.

"Tristan Michael
Carroway
," Aunt Edwina said, looking as though she wished he was still small enough for a spanking, "you apologize."

The viscount's lips curved upward, his gaze still on Georgiana. "And why should I?"

"Lady Georgiana's correspondence is none of your affair."

The few-second delay gave Georgiana enough time to rally her thoughts. "Perhaps we should discuss
your
correspondence," she ventured. "Or do you feel left out, perhaps, because you haven't received any love letters?"

"
I
feel left out," Bradshaw commented, reaching for a biscuit.

"Me too," Edward added, though from his expression he had no idea what everyone was talking about.

"Perhaps it's that I manage to keep my personal matters private," Tristan mused, his expression growing harder.

"And yet you feel the need to gossip about mine," she returned,
then
blanched.

Dare only lifted an eyebrow. "Tell me a secret worth keeping, and I will do so." With a glance at their rapt audience, he motioned for Dawkins to refill his glass of claret. "Until then, I will settle for discussing your
odorific
correspondence."

Was he again trying to reassure her that he could be trusted, or was he attempting to draw her out? Georgiana didn't feel ready to press her luck any further. Instead, she turned the conversation to the Devonshire ball at the end of the week, considered to be the event of the Season. "Do you attend?" she asked
Milly
and Edwina.

"Heavens, no.
With the crush the duke's likely to have, I'll be flattening everyone's toes with my wheeled chair."

"I'm staying home with
Milly
," Edwina said firmly.

"You're going, aren't you?" Tristan asked, the devilry fading from his expression.

"I will stay with your aunts."

"Nonsense, Georgiana,"
Milly
cooed. "Edwina and I will probably be in bed long before the dancing even begins. You must go."

"Well, I'm going," Bradshaw said. "Rear Admiral Penrose is supposed to be there, and I want to press—"

"—him about getting your own ship," Andrew and Edward finished in a chorus.

Georgiana saw the pull of Tristan's jaw as it tightened, but the expression was gone before anyone else noticed. Whether Bradshaw earned a captaincy or bought one, it was an expensive proposition. She knew the
Carroways
had dire money troubles; everyone knew that. But the burden of it, and of the solution, rested on Tristan's shoulders.

She shook herself. He might very well need to marry a wealthy female like Amelia Johns, but he could still be nicer about it. Making the poor girl feel like a necessary pariah was cruel, even if he held no genuine affection for her.

"It's settled, then," he said. "Bradshaw, Georgiana, and I will be attending the Devonshire ball." He glanced at his quiet brother, seated at the far end of the table. "And you, Bit? You're invited as well, you know."

With what might have been a shudder of his broad shoulders, Robert shook his head. "I'm busy." He pushed
away from the table and, giving a slight bow, left the room.

"Damn," Tristan murmured, in so quiet a voice that Georgiana almost didn't hear him. His gaze was on the doorway through which his brother had vanished.

"What happened to him?" she whispered, as the rest of the table began discussing the upcoming soiree.

Blue eyes slid in her direction.
"Other than his being nearly shot to death?
I don't know. He won't tell me."

"Oh."

He gestured at the biscuit remaining on her plate. "Are you going to eat that?"

"No. Why—"

Tristan reached over and took it. "I'm glad you're going to the ball." He tore off a piece of the rich bread and popped it into his mouth.

"I don't know why you should be," she returned, glancing sideways to make sure they weren't being overheard. "I'll only use the occasion to torment you."

"I like being tormented by you." He, too, looked down the length of the table before returning his attention to her. "And I like having you here."

So, her plan was beginning to work. Georgiana put the speeding of her heartbeat to satisfaction. "I sometimes like being here," she said slowly. If she melted too quickly, he would be suspicious, and she'd have to start all over again.

"Sometimes?" he repeated, taking another bite of her biscuit.

"When you're not making silly announcements about my correspondence, or about how willing you are to keep secrets."

"But you and I do have secrets, don't we?" he murmured.

Georgiana lowered her eyes. "You'd do better to stop reminding me."

"Why should I? It was exceptionally memorable, and you refuse to forget it yourself. It's your excuse for not marrying."

Georgiana narrowed her eyes. "No,
you're
my excuse for not marrying. What in the world makes you think I'd wish to marry any man, after the poor example you've set?" she snapped. "What makes you think I'd give any man the power to ..." She stopped, flushing.

He pounced on the words. "The power to—"

She shoved to her feet. "Excuse me. I need some air."

While the remaining
Carroways
gazed at her, startled, she hurried from the room. Dawkins didn't have time to reach the front door before she yanked it open and ran down the shallow stone steps. She knew better than to wander about London alone in the dark, even in Mayfair, so she turned for the small rose garden on the east side of the house.