Page 71 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
He blew out an impatient breath. “Easy enough if one has a regiment at their disposal. What are you getting at?”
“Oh, nothing of any import, I’m sure, but it occurs to me that Lord Gray—are you familiar with Lord Gray, my lord? He’s married to my dear friend Sophia. No? Well, that doesn’t signify.The point is—”
“Yes, please do get to the point, if you would. We’rewasting time.”
Georgiana gave him a sweet smile. “Why, of course, my lord. I beg your pardon. The point is, Lord Gray happens to have a hunting box in Burham, in Buckinghamshire.”
Benedict went still. “Burnham? That’s less than—”
“Less than an hour’s ride on horseback from Lord Draven’s estate in High Wycombe, yes. One might get about quite easily between them. Stealthily, too, and the duke isn’t apt to go poking about Lord Gray’s hunting box, is he?”
“No. I don’t suppose he is,” Benedict allowed, grudgingly enough, in Georgiana’s opinion. “But I doubt Lord Gray will appreciate your poking about there.”
Georgiana waved this objection aside. “We needn’t go anywhere near the hunting box. The gamekeeper’s cottage is adequate forour purposes.”
“Gamekeeper’s cottages generally come equipped with a gamekeeper, Miss Harley. What do you intend to do with him? Toss him out the window?”
“Don’t be absurd, Lord Haslemere. Lord Gray rarely uses the hunting box now. He pensioned the gamekeeperoff long ago.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “And how wouldyou know that?”
“Why, from Lady Gray, of course.” Georgiana looked down her nose at him. “It may surprise you to know this, Lord Haslemere, but not all ladies are preoccupied with fashions and gossip. We do occasionally talk ofother things.”
“Gamekeepers? That’s what you talk of?”
Georgiana shrugged. “Among other things, but I fear you’re missing the point, my lord. I can either accompany you to Burham, or you cancommandme to return to Lady Clifford, and she and I will go to Burham together, and you may do as you wish.”
Benedict gave a humorless laugh. “It seems you’ve thought of everything. I suppose we’re off toBurham, then.”
He was still angry with her—she could tell by the edge to his voice—but he didn’t offer any more arguments, and Georgiana let out a silent breath of relief. If they could get along with each other, the next few days would be far easier for both of them. “Very good, Lord Haslemere. I’m ready to leavewhen you are.”
There. If she could be cordial, then so could he. Cordiality meant no more arguing, and no more raisingtheir voices.
And no more kissing. That was entirelytoocordial.
Certainly, no more kiss—
“I’ll leave you to, er…” His gaze roved slowly over her. “Tidy yourself, while I go and see Madame Célestine about getting a carriage for us. Wait here until my return, if you please, Miss Harley.”
He strode to the door and vanished into the hallway, leaving Georgiana choking on the ill-tempered retort that rose to her lips. Why, the consummate arrogance of the man! She’d just solved their most pressing problem, and still he presumed to order her about, as if she were a hunting dog he’d commanded to heel.
With an irritable whirl of her skirts, Georgiana abandoned her place beside the bed and marched to the window. It was early still. The carriage drive below was deserted, and the rooms that had been filled with laughter and the low murmur of conversation last night had gone silent. No doubt Madame Célestine and her ladies were exhausted from their efforts the night before, and had tumbled into their bedsat first light.
That thought gave rise to another, this one far less welcome. Had Benedict gone to consult with Madame Célestine in that lady’s bedchamber? Georgiana’s shoulders moved in a quick shrug before the thought could take root. What did it matter to her where he’d gone? Lord Haslemere might do as he wished, and he had said he and MadameCélestine were…
How had he put it?Old friends.
Georgiana snorted. Friends, indeed. Madame Célestine wasn’t the sort of lady a man chose to make his friend. It was far more likely she’d been his mistress, and that they were renewing their intimate acquaintance even now.
If the only emotion surging through her body had been anger, Georgiana might have managed it easily enough. But this stinging ache, this sharp, pointed thing lodged under her breastbone was a great deal more complicated than just anger.
She sank down onto the edge of the windowsill.
He’d rejected her. He’d kissed her passionately, stroked her face, and begged her to come closer, then he’d fled the bed as if the devil were after him, and gone off to frolic withhisold friend.
It was…not humiliating, no. Not hurtful, either. It might have been both of those things if she cared whether or not Lord Haslemere desired her, but shedidn’t, and she’d wasted quite enough time thinking about it.
She rose and crossed the room to the basin, making use of the cold water to wash, then did what she could to tidy her limp, soiled dress. A wasted effort, as it happened, as the dress hadn’t taken kindly to being slept in the night before. She donned her stockings and shoes, then sat down on the side of the bed to await Lord Haslemere’s return.
