Page 28 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
Her lips curled with satisfaction.
Of course, he wasn’t waiting for her. It was much too early for a fashionable gentleman like him to have risen for the day. No doubt he was lounging in his bed, and would remain there for, oh, another two or three hours, at the least. By the time he did stumble from his bed, she’d already have settled their business with Lord Draven.
Lord Haslemere might have gotten his way last night, but just because she’d let him coax her into an arrangement didn’t mean she’d changed her mind about him. If last night had proved anything, it was that the man was careless, flighty, and unpredictable. It was sheer dumb luck his trick last night hadn’t ended with a pistol ball between his eyes.
How could she be expected to work with such a man as that? At best, he was a distraction, and at worst, a liability. Fortunately, there was another way to get this business done, one that didn’t involve Lord Haslemere. If it meant she’d have to tell a few harmless falsehoods and sneak about a bit,then so be it.
It wasn’t, after all,the first time.
She eased the door open a crack and glanced around, just to be sure he wasn’t lurking in the shrubs as he’d done last night, but there wasn’t any sign either of him,or anyone else.
Georgiana slipped outside, taking care to close the door quietly behind her. If she didn’t feel even a twinge of conscience at dodging Lord Haslemere, shedidhave an uncomfortable pang or two on Lady Clifford’s account.
Georgiana didn’t make it a habit to sneak, hide, or lie to Lady Clifford. That is, she’d hadn’tlied, precisely. She’d simply withheld the entire truth, which wasn’tnearly as bad.
In any case, she hadn’t had a choice. She couldn’t tell Lady Clifford about Lord Haslemere’s bribe—not when they’d already agreed to take on the duchess’s business. Lady Clifford would insist they do the honorable thing, and the Mill Street building would slip through their fingers like so much water through a sieve.
It was a great pity honor should so often be at odds with practicality. Georgiana didn’t object to honor, of course. Not until it got in her way, that is.
As far as Lord Haslemere was concerned, it was best for them both if she let him slumber and proceeded on her own, as she was accustomed to doing, then begged everyone’s pardon afterward. She’d wrap up this business more quickly that way, and really, wasn’t that what she and Lord Haslemere both wanted? Why, by the end of it he’d be thanking her for—
“Going somewhere, princess?”
Oh, no. Georgiana froze mid-step, her eyesslipping shut.
“It’s a bit early in the morning for a stroll.” Slow, lazy footsteps approached, and Georgiana turned to find Lord Haslemere sauntering toward her.
He didn’t look as if he’d just rolled out of bed. He was perfectly respectable this morning in tight, buff-colored breeches, a bottle-green coat, polished black boots, and a snowy cravat tiedàla Haslemere. His auburn hair was slightly damp, and…she took a cautious sniff of the air.
He smelled like peppermint, as if…
He’d just emergedfrom his bath.
An unexpected and wholly unwelcome image of Lord Haslemere lounging in his bath, his skin flushed and his damp hair curling against his neck, rose in her mind. She made a desperate attempt to banish it into the dark, cobwebbed corner where she buried such thoughts, but much like the man himself, they weren’t easily dismissed.
Lord Haslemere—who was no doubt accustomed to ladies gawking at him—didn’t appear to notice her struggles. “I suspected you’d make an attempt of this sort.” He tutted, shaking his head. “Is this how you honor your commitments? For a lady with such high principles, you’re as wily as a rookeries pickpocket.”
“Don’t be absurd. I’ve never picked a pocket in my life.” Why bother picking a pocket when it was so little effort to fleece them? “I don’t know what you’re suggesting, Lord Haslemere, but—”
“We’re well past suggestion, Miss Harley. I’m outright accusing you of lying, sneaking, and base treachery.”
Georgiana tossed her head. “Treachery is such a theatrical word. You have a flair for the melodramatic, my lord.”
“Is that so?” Lord Haslemere pulled out his pocket watch and flipped it open with a careless flick of his finger. “I told you I’d fetch you at calling hours. It’s nine o’clock in the morning. If I didn’t know subterfuge to be beneath you, Miss Harley, I might think you were sneaking off to Lord Draven’s without me.”
Georgiana tried to ignore the guilty heat creeping into her cheeks. Keeping the duchess’s secrets from a meddlesome lord who insisted on sticking his nose into his sister’s business was a delicate thing. It required some…finessing.
“Careful, Miss Harley. That blush is giving you away.” Lord Haslemere raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s a very pretty one, but an innocent lady has no reason to blush.”
Georgiana’s cheeks burned even hotter at his teasing, but she drew herself up with a sniff. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean, my lord.I never blush.”
“No? I must be mistaken. Still, I insist you allow me to escort you on your perfectly innocent morning errands. My carriage is just there.” He nodded toward the other side of the street, then held out his arm with an infuriating smirk. “Shall we, then?”
“That’s, ah…that’s not necessary, my lord.” Even as the words left her mouth, Georgiana was bracing herself for the inevitable confrontation. Lord Haslemere had risked a midnight skirmish with Daniel Brixton last night. He was hardly goingto give upnow.
“Oh, but I think it is.” His dark eyes were narrowed to slits. “Come now, Miss Harley, you insult me with this game. I know you were sneaking off to Lord Draven’s on your own, so let’s have the truth,if you please.”
Georgiana bit her lip. “I fully intended to seek you out later, and tell you every—”
