Page 76 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
Benedict raised an expectant eyebrow at her. “Yes? What am I?”
“You’re…you’re Lord Haslemere,” Georgiana replied, then immediately felt foolish. Heknewhe was Lord Haslemere, for pity’s sake. What she meant was, he was a darling of theton, the upper ten thousand’s most beloved rake, pursued by the most beautiful belles in the city, and flattered by everyone else. “I would think it would be quite satisfying, to be you.”
She hadn’t really given much thought to it before, but over the last few days she’d begun to consider the enormous power a man like Lord Haslemere commanded. She’d been in the habit of thinking of fashionable rogues like him as rather useless people, but…
She glanced back down at Cliveden House. An estate of this size would have hundreds of tenant farmers working the land, all of whom depended on the lord to ensure their livelihood. It was a staggering level ofresponsibility.
“I think Haslemere House must be lovely, my lord.” She hesitated as she sneaked a glance at him. “But perhapsrather lonely.”
He’d been looking past her at Cliveden House nestled into the valley below, but now his gaze shifted to her face. His eyes held hers as he murmured, “I confess I don’t fancy rusticating on my own, but perhaps someday I can persuade someone to come live at HaslemereHouse with me.”
Long, silent moments passed, then Benedict cleared his throat and looked away. “High Wycombe isn’t far now. We’ll have a warm fire and a bed soon enough.”
He said no more, but turned his attention back to the road, leaving Georgiana to attempt to hide her blush as she contemplated his singular use of the wordbed.
She’d never been to Lord Gray’s hunting box, never mind the gamekeeper’s cottage, but Sophia had mentioned once the hunting box was at the western edge of the property, and the cottage nearby, half-hidden among a forest of towering old trees. Once they arrived it took a bit of poking about to find it, but they stumbled acrossit eventually.
“We’ll be safe here from the duke’s men, that much is certain.” Benedict leapt down from the curricle and offered her his hand. “No one will think to look for us here.”
Georgiana let him help her down and surveyed the cottage, her hands on her hips. It was square and small, made of dark stone with a thatched roof, and with a thick chimney made of the same stone. “It’s not the sort of place you’d come across by accident, is it?”
“No. One would have to know it was here to find it.” Benedict peered through the window, then turned back to her with a shrug. “I hope you’re fond of rusticating. It appears sound enough, but not extravagant.”
“I don’t needextravagances.”
“I’m pleased to hear it, Miss Harley, because you won’t find any.” His dark eyes twinkled at her. “What it lacks in charm, it makes up for in dust. I saw a cobweb in there biggerthan my fist.”
Georgiana marched to the door. “I’m not afraid of spiders, Lord Haslemere.”
“Good, then you can protect me from them. I detest the things.”
Georgiana couldn’t help but smile at his exaggerated shudder. Really, he was the most teasing man she’d ever come across. Endearing, though, with that boyish grin on his lips. “How shallwe get inside?”
Benedict strode across the narrow dirt drive, put his shoulder to the door, and gave it a good shove. It opened with a creaky groan, and he turned to Georgiana with an elegant bow. “After you, madam.”
Georgiana peeked through the doorway. The air inside was stale and musty, and there were a shocking number of cobwebs, just as Lord Haslemere had said, but it was a cozy space for all that, with a massive stone fireplace at one end, flagstone floors covered with a threadbare carpet, and low, beamed ceilings. A few thick logs rested on the hearth, and several chairs were scattered about. A rough-hewn wood table stood near a grimy window, and a bed with a patchwork quilt was pushed against one wall.
Only one bed, but to Georgiana’s relief, she spotted a set of narrow wooden stairs leading to a second floor. The bedchambers must be up there. “I’ll just have alook upstairs.”
She crossed the room, pausing at the bottom of the staircase. The first step appeared sound. The second and third steps let out protesting squeaks when she put her weight on them, but they were steady enough. The real trouble began when she ventured onto the fourth step, which let out a menacing crackunder her foot.
That was when she realized her mistake.
“Georgiana, wait.”
She froze, but by then it was too late. The step shuddered and then splintered under her foot, upsetting her balance. “Oh!” Her arms pinwheeled as she struggled to stay upright, but between her skirts and the disintegrating steps, it was hopeless. She squeezed her eyes shut as she fell backward and braced herself for a bone-rattling thud.
Butit never came.
She heard Benedict shout her name, then there was an explosion of movement behind her, and instead of the flagstone floor rushing up to meet her backside, his muscular arms closed around her, and his hard chest appeared under her palms.
“It’s all right. I’ve got you.” He was short of breath, not from exertion but from alarm, for he lifted her easily, carrying her down the stairs and depositing her carefully on the edge of the bed. He crouched in front of her, his concerned eyes on her face. “Areyou all right?”
Georgiana stared into those lovely, melting dark eyes, so close to her own, and for a single, breathtaking moment she wanted nothing more than to tuck herself against him and feel his arms around her again. “I…yes. Quite all right. Thankyou, my lord.”
“Perhaps we’d better not venture upstairs again.”
Georgiana nodded, her heart still pounding, though she couldn’t have said whether it was from the near fall, or from those few brief, glorious moments she’d been in his arms.
