Page 6 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
Those foolish, foolish girls! Please let them be safe…
When she reached Bedford Street without stepping in any puddles of blood or stumbling over any lifeless bodies, she forced herself to calm. It was all right. Of course it was. The girls were naughty, but they weren’t naïve. They were simply on another adventure, that was all. She’d be with them in just another moment. She’d drag them back to the school by their ears, and allwould be well.
By the time she turned the corner onto Maiden Lane, she’d just about convinced herself there wasn’t a thingto worry about.
That was when she heard the scream.
Chapter Two
It was a young girl’s voice raised in awful, piercing howls, as if a monster from her darkest nightmare had come to life and was threatening to drag her down into the deepestbowels of hell.
That shriek made every hair on Georgiana’s neck spike with fear, but not a single sound passed her lips as she flew around the corner. She didn’t shout, or gasp, or cry—she certainly didn’tcry—nor did she pause to think, but charged forward, her heart bursting in her chest and ghastly images filling her head as she ran—a hulking scoundrel dressed all in black, his dagger pressed to Sarah’s throat, or his massive hands wrapped around Susannah’s neck, squeezing the life out of her, or a gang of banditti, their swords drawn, or—
This isn’t a Gothic horror novel, for pity’s sake.
Georgiana dragged in deep gulps of the frigid air to calm herself, but it was dark, as dark as a nightmare. Covent Garden was a blaze of light, but only a few glimmers reached as far as Maiden Lane, and she’d seen for herself how darkness could hide a multitude of horrors.
She flew down the street, her half boots skidding out from underneath her. She was nearly upon them before she noticed the shadowy figures at the end of the lane. Two were smaller, child-sized, but the other was tall, with the broad-shoulderedbulk of a man.
No, not aman, but a criminal, a demon, the sort of wretch who preyed upon innocent children. Georgiana’s first instinct was to leap upon his back and sink her claws into his scalp, but she came to a crashing halt, the fog swirling around her, and blinked into the darkness.
There was no bloody dagger, and no blackguard with his brutal hands wrapped around a child’s slender neck. That is, therewasa man, but he wasn’t dressed in black. He wore a royal blue coat embroidered with an abundance of costly silver thread, and instead of the meaty, murderous paws she’d envisioned, his hands were long, elegant, and wrapped in a pair of flawless white gloves.
Susannah was standing beside him, eyes wide, and it looked as if…yes, itwas. “Sarah! Get down off that scoundrel’s back.Now.”
“Scoundrel?” The man’s dark brows rose. “I beg yourpardon, madam.”
“Oh, that’s going to be trouble, that is,” Susannah hissed. “Git down from there, Sarah, and right quick.”
Sarah released her hold on the man’s neck and slid down his back, grimacing at the look on Georgiana’s face. “Goodevening, Miss—”
Susannah scurried forward, cutting Sarah off. “Ye see, it’s like this, Miss—”
“Not a single word from either of you.” Georgiana pointed at them, her hand shaking. “Come herethisinstant.”
Sarah shot Susannah a panicked glance. “Aw, Miss Harley, we weren’t doing anything wrong. We were just helping this covehere with his—”
“Enough!” Georgiana grabbed an arm in each hand and pushed the girls behind her. She was furious with both of them, but that anger was tempered by relief at findingthem unharmed.
That left the hottest of her rage for the miscreant in front of her. “I’m well aware you were led astray by this, this…gentleman.” She fixed him with a glare. “I assume you do style yourself a gentleman, sir, despite your shameful anticsthis evening?”
Anyone with a pair of eyes in their head could see hewasa gentleman, and an aristocrat. His elegant clothing, his manner, the scent of expensive port that clung to him gave him away. He was an earl, most likely, or even a marquess, for who else would dare to treat children so callously?
Any gentleman with a shred of decency would have been ashamed to look her in the eye, but this one seemed more amused than anything else. A wide grin curved his full lips, and there was an infuriating twinkle in his dark eyes as he swept his hat from his head and offered her a mocking bow. “Haslemere, madam. I’m delighted to make youracquaintance.”
Haslemere?
He said his name as if Georgiana would recognize it, and indeed, she did. Everyone in London knew whohewas. Benedict Harcourt, the Earl of Haslemere. What she knew of him wasn’t to his credit, but he wasn’tquitethe despicable fiend she’d envisioned. He wasn’t carrying a dagger or brandishing a sword. No banditti were lurking in the shadows, and Sarah and Susannah appeared unharmed.
Still, he was scoundrel enough. Haslemere was London’s most infamous rake, notorious for his reckless wagering, shocking scandals, and an endless parade of beautiful, volatile mistresses.
Georgiana took him in, from the tips of his polished shoes to his smirking mouth, her lips turning down in disdain. Oh, he was pretty, wasn’t he? No doubt he thought that thick auburn hair of his and those handsome dark eyes excused his appalling behavior, butshewas immune to his appeal. “Tell me, Lord Haslemere. Do you make a habit of entertaining yourself at the expense of the safety of young children?”
“They were never in any danger, I assure you. They found it all great fun. Ask them yourself.” The smirking lips curved into a crooked grin that no doubt charmed most ladies out of their bodices and into his bed.
But Georgiana wasn’t most ladies. “They found it great fun, did they? Perhaps you’d care to explain why I heard Sarah screaming from four blocks away, then.” It had only been a single block, but Lord Haslemere didn’t know that.
“Certainly, miss…it’s Miss Harley, isn’t it?” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Sarah here was upset because I put an end to our footraces. Her shriek nearly melted the skin from my bones. I was just about to take her for a final spin when you appeared, screeching like a banshee, and accused me of being a scoundrel.”
