Page 7 of The Virgin Who Humbled Lord Haslemere
“Footraces.” Georgiana had heard rumors about these notorious footraces. Young, wild aristocratic gentlemen, tired of playing at hazard and whist, had taken to wagering on footraces, and the more dangerous they were, the better. There were tales of drunken wastrels charging about Covent Garden with ladies of dubious virtue in their arms, tripping over passersby and generally making a great nuisanceof themselves.
If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed it, but God knew there was no end to the stupidity of bored noblemen. Last month it had been wagering on the time it would take a drop of rain to reach the windowsill at White’s. The month before that all the rage was wagering on whether or not Lord-whoever-he-may-be could carry Mr. So-and-So around the Serpentine on his back.
Nothing should surprise her anymore.
For her part, Georgiana was happy enough to let every foolish lord in London split their thick skulls open on the pavement. She couldn’t care less if they broke their noses and sacrificed every tooth in their heads to their silly antics.
That is, until one of them dared to involvehergirls in his absurd games. Then she cared very much, indeed. “You smell like you’ve been bathing in port, Lord Haslemere. Do you really think you have any business balancing a child on your shoulders insuch a state?”
“Why, Miss Harley, I’m flattered you’d show an interest in my bathing habits.” He winked at her, his lips quirking. “It was either another ride, or a burst eardrum. Besides, I’m not one to leave a younglady in tears.”
Georgiana was exerting a great of effort to hold onto her temper, but Lord Haslemere was edging her closer to the brink with his careless winks and sly flirtation. “This is all just a bit of fun to you, isn’t it, my lord? Just another game, an entertainment to while away an evening. What if one of these girls had fallen and broken a bone, or worse, cracked their head open? Would you have found it asamusing then?”
Her vehemence took him aback. “Now see here, Miss Harley—”
“We didn’t ride on his shoulders, Miss Harley.” Susannah and Sarah had been quiet until now, their curious gazes moving from Georgiana to Lord Haslemere and back again, but now Susannah spoke up. “Them other coves wanted us to, but this one here said as it wasn’t a good idea.”
“Theotherones?” That’s right. Georgiana had forgotten Abby had said there were three gentlemen.
“Well, of course.” Lord Haslemere chuckled. “Did you suppose I was running races against myself? Really, Miss Harley, what funwould that be?”
Georgiana clenched her hands into fists to keep from boxing his ears.
“There was three of them.” Sarah’s tone was eager, as if she thought the addition of two more rakes could only help their cause. “One named Harry something—he was the other horse, ye see, and Susannah his jockey, and then the other lord, Perry something, who held the hat with the coins.”
Ah yes, the infamous guineas. “Give Lord Haslemere back his money.”
No girls ofherswere going to be beholden to a scandalous earl.
Susannah and Sarah both took a hasty step backward, and hid their hands—hands stuffed with guineas, no doubt—behind their backs.
“I don’t want them back.” A hint of impatience had crept into Lord Haslemere’s voice. “The girls earned them, and should be allowedto keep them.”
Georgiana ignored it, and him. “At once, girls.”
Sarah and Susannah were reluctant to relinquish their riches, but they’d been at the Clifford School long enough to know better than to argue with Miss Harley. Susannah returned her guineas, but Georgiana was obliged to pry open Sarah’s fingers and take the coins away from her. “Here you are, my lord. I believe that concludesour business.”
She held out the coins to him, but instead of taking them, he crossed his arms over his chest. “This is absurd, Miss Harley. Give the girls back their coins.”
Georgiana’s eyes narrowed. “Are youarguingwith me, Lord Haslemere?”
“Cor,” Sarah breathed. “He’s done it now.”
“I don’t see what harm there is in letting the girls keep their reward, that’s all.” Lord Haslemere gave acareless shrug.
“That doesn’t surprise me. I imagine you’re not much in the habit of considering consequences.” Why should he be? Therewereno consequences for gentlemen like him. “Allow me to explain it to you. Sarah and Susannah are meant to be tucked into their beds. Instead they sneaked out to Covent Garden, at night, disobeying the rules and putting themselves at risk, and you’re proposing Irewardthem for it?”
Lord Haslemere scratched his temple, grimacing. “Now you put it that way, it doesn’t seem quite the thing. Ididn’t think—”
“No, you didn’t. Not an unusual occurrence, I’d wager.” With a flick of her fingers, Georgiana dropped the guineas into the pocket of his cloak. “I daresay you’re not required to think much at all. Good night, my lord. I wish you a pleasant evening.”
She didn’t wait for an answer, but took the girls’ hands in each of hers, and turned on her heel. She’d intended to stride off into the night without another word or a backward glance, but his low, amused voice stopped her.
“What a liar you are, Miss Harley. We both know you wish me straightto the devil.”
* * * *
Good Lord, the woman had a viperish tongue. Benedict had thought Sarah’s shrieking was intolerable, but it was nothing compared to the blistering scold that had just rolled off Miss Harley’s lips. He couldn’t recall ever having been so thoroughly chastised in his life.
