Page 27 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
Georgiana stared at him, her heart turning somersaults in her chest. It was a good thing she was immune to his charm, because otherwise she might have felt a little flutter in her belly at the hint of humor in his dark eyes. “Fifty seconds, Lord Haslemere.”
He held up his hands. “Yes, yes, all right. I want you to help me untangle these rumors about my sister.”
Georgiana’s mouth fell open. Dear God, did he not understand the word “no”? This was what happened to a man when his every whim was indulged. “Let me see if I understand you. You came here in the middle of the night to demand something I’ve already refused you?”
“I wouldn’t putit quite like—”
“Does your arrogance know no bounds, Lord Haslemere? You eavesdropped on my conversation this evening, then followed me home, accosted me on a dark street, smashed my preserves to bits—”
“Ah ha! Iknewyou were holding a grudge about the pres—”
“Now you’ve assaulted my window and dragged me from my bed, and no doubt you think that charming smile of yours excuses it all!”
There was a brief silence, then a slow grin lit his face. “You think my smile is charming?”
Georgiana clenched her teeth. “I’ve already given you my answer, my lord.”
“Yes, but you didn’t have all the information then.” He braced his hands against the fence railing, his teeth flashing white in the dim light. “I don’t think you’ll refuse me this time. You see, Miss Harley, I have something you want.”
A sigh jerked loose from Georgiana’s chest. Even the man’steethwere handsome. “That’s curious, my lord, because I can’t think of a single thing youcan offer me.”
“I own an empty building on Mill Street.” Lord Haslemere was paying close attention to her reaction, and he noticed her indrawn breath. “Might such a thing be of interest to you?”
Without realizing she did it, Georgiana stumbled down one stair, then another, her held breath burning her lungs.
“Struck dumb, Miss Harley? How gratifying.” His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, but close to it. “I understand Lady Clifford is keen to expand the school. Isthat the case?”
Georgiana hesitated. She should deny it, refuse to give him such power over her, but the words tumbled out before she could stop them. “I…yes. There aren’t many buildings to let at a reasonable price, and most of them are too small for our needs. You’d be amazed at how much room littlegirls require.”
“As much room as little boys, I’d guess. The building has remained empty since my grandfather’s death some years ago. It needs a bit of polishing, but it’s large,and near here.”
Georgiana thought she knew which building he meant, and had never once imaged it could be theirs. After all those troublesome numbers that refused to add up, those uncooperative columns and rows she could still see swimming in front of her eyes, were their prayers really going to be answered aseasily as this?
And by a demon likeLord Haslemere?
“Well, Miss Harley? Don’t keep me in suspense. Do we havean agreement?”
One word, one small word was all it would take. Georgiana opened her mouth to say it, but the memory of the Duchess of Kenilworth’s pale face, the hint of fear there swam before her eyes. She’d made the duchess a promise.
But then she’d made an implicit promise to her girls, too, her motley little group of six. She’d promised she’d take care of them, give them something to hope for, save them from the years of loneliness and misery she’d livedthrough after…
She shook the thought from her head. It didn’t matter now.
Surely, she could help Lord Haslemere while still keeping her promise to the duchess? Lord Draven was somehow connected to both Clara Beauchamp and the Duchess of Kenilworth, so the two matters already overlapped. Surely, she could do both at once?
“You seem undecided, Miss Harley. Perhaps I should take my offer directly toLady Clifford—”
“No! We have an agreement, Lord Haslemere.” Georgiana couldn’t let that building slip through their fingers. She simplycouldn’t do it.
This time there was no mistaking the smirk, or the subtle mockery of his bow. “Good. I believe a call on Lord Draven is in order. I’ll fetch you tomorrow morning, just before calling hours. Until then, sweet dreams, Miss Harley.”
He stuffed his hands into his pockets and strolled off into the night, whistling, leaving Georgiana nothing to do but watch him go, and wonder how a careless, feather-brained, arrogant rake like Lord Haslemere had gotten the best of her.
Chapter Seven
It was appalling what a lady had to do to get her hands on a decent-sized Mayfair townhouse.
Georgiana eased open the doorway of her bedchamber, poked her head out, and peeked down the hallway. Empty, just as she’d predicted. She crept down the stairs to the entryway, rose to her tiptoes, and peered through the panel of glass fixed into the front door. Weak morning sunlight struggled through the gray layers of smog and clouds above, but just as she’d expected, the steps and the street beyond were empty.
