Page 58 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
“It sounds to me as if there was. Lord Haslemere kissed you, there was an explosion of passion between you, and it frightened you. Nowthatmakes perfect sense, dearest.”
Perfect sense!None of this made the least bit of sense to Georgiana.
“Once the kiss had ended, did you wish he might kiss you again?”
Wish for it? She’d done more than that. She’d allowed—no,encouraged—him tokiss her again.
Again, and again, and again…
What would it be like, to believe he was kissing her because he desired her, wantedher?
But that was what had frightened her. It hadn’t been the kiss itself. Benedict had been gentle and sweet, tender even. But his kiss had lured to the surface all the dreams and wishes she’d long since given up on, long since buried. It was better that way—better if dreams destined to go unfulfilled remained buried.
She didn’twant them back.
Did she?
Oh, she didn’t know! The only thing she was sure of was her head was once again spinning with questions that had no answers, and now long forgotten hopes had rushed to the surface along with a miasma of wretchedfeelings.
Georgiana sagged against the chair, suddenly exhausted. “May I go to my bed now, my lady? I-I think I’d better rest.”
“Of course, my dear.” Lady Clifford gave her a reassuring smile, but before Georgiana could escape the drawing room, she stopped her. “Georgiana?”
Georgiana turned at the door, waited.
“Not everyone is like your mother, my love,” Lady Clifford said quietly. “There are those you can trust, and those you can’t.”
And no way to tell the differencebetween them.
Georgiana had learned that lesson young, and she’d learned it well.
She’d trusted her mother, all those years ago, and look where it had gotten her. Left on the London streets like so many children before her, discarded by a desperate mother who could hardly care for herself, much less her young daughter. But what was the use of sniveling over it? She wasn’t the first to be abandoned thus, and God knew she wouldn’t be the last.
“Go on, then, and go to your bed, Georgiana.” There was a hint of sadness in Lady Clifford’s eyes. “But think about what I said, won’t you?”
Words tangled in Georgiana’s throat, so she only nodded.
Lady Clifford smiled. “Good. Sweet dreams, dearest.”
* * * *
It wasn’t until Georgiana had disappeared behind the doors of the Clifford School and he was returning to Grigg that Benedict saw the carriage.
If he hadn’t followed her to her door, he would have missed it entirely, as it had emerged from the mews on the opposite sideof the school.
He recognized it at once.
That particular shade of bottle green, the handsome brass fittings, and the black and gold crest emblazoned on the door…only one man in London drove a carriage like that.
If the Duke of Kenilworth wanted to sneak about unnoticed, he should have chosen a less conspicuous vehicle. Benedict ducked behind one of Lady Clifford’s thick shrubs and waited until the carriage pulled smoothly out of the mews. Once it had disappeared down the street, he hurried around the corner to where Grigg was waiting.
When Grigg caught sight of him, his brows shotup. “My lord?”
“Kenilworth had us followed from Lady Archer’s.” Whoever was driving had been damn sly about it, too, or else Benedict would have noticed them sooner, when it still might havedone some good.
Beforehe led them right to the Clifford School. If the duke hadn’t known who Georgiana was, he did now.
Benedict’s fingers curled around the walking stick in his hand. It was an act of pure instinct—a need to grab onto something solid as the world tilted under his feet.
