By the time she’d had a servant go fetch Lily, she was ready to make for the carriage. Georgiana was dying to get back home and crawl into bed, even though the baroness and Lily would insist on hearing all that happened. And with Tom Blakey—correction—Thomas Worthington sitting only a few feet awayfrom her, his disdain for her emanating from him like a beacon, he was the very last thing she wanted to talk about.
The two climbed in the carriage and settled in when Georgiana realized she’d left her reticule behind while pulling on her cloak.
“I’ll go fetch it,” Lily offered before Georgie could refuse. “I’ll only be a moment.”
Georgie sat back in her seat and closed her eyes. Leave it to her to be in such a rush to leave that the act had delayed their parting even more. But not a moment had passed however, before the door opened again, and Georgie sat up.
“My, Lily, I didn’t realize you could—”
She stopped as she realized the person sitting in the carriage was far too large a figure to be Lily Duigood. Far too large, and far too male. She opened her mouth to call out when a male voice cut through the darkness.
“What in the sweet blazes are you doing here, Georgiana Hawthorne?”
Chapter Seven
“Icould askyou the same question.”
Georgie silently congratulated herself for keeping most of the wavering out of her voice. Years of keeping her emotions locked away had paid her dividends in an unthinkable moment such as this.
Tom sat opposite her, their knees nearly touching, the heat of his body and the scent of his cologne filling the space between them.
“I asked first,” he said, the subtle flick of his brows suggesting a dare.
He teased her so effortlessly. It had been some kind of easy magic he’d been gifted. When they were younger, he’d used it to coax her to the banks of streams where they’d sit and talk about their youthful hopes and fears when she should have returned to her pianoforte lessons.
But those days, and the power of that magic, were gone. She’d extinguished it, and he’d never forgiven her for it.
“I am waiting to return home,” she said, running her hands over the smooth silk of her skirts, keeping her voice as steady and nonchalant as if he’d asked her the time of day.
He let go a low chuckle laced with a bitterness that only added to the tension. “Don’t play games with me, my lady.”
Georgie almost wanted to laugh at the hypocrisy. “Indeed, I believe that is what we are both here to do.”
She felt him shift in his seat, the subtle motion causing the hem of her skirts to brush his legs. He must have felt it too, because he stopped. Even that touch—the barest graze of silk on his leather boots—had been too much for him.
“I thought you were supposed to be married,” he said after a pause.
“We can both see I am not,” she said, congratulating herself on her efforts to remain calm. “Now go, before Miss Duigood returns.”
“Concerned for your reputation?” he asked. “Or concerned that we may be discovered and forced to wed. I know how laughable an offer that once was. Though given the standards for the high-and-mighty Georgiana Hawthorne, even an heir to a viscountcy may still not be good enough for you.”
The accusation landed, aided by the coolness of his delivery. Georgie was thankful for the shadows to that concealed the sting of his words as heat rushed to her cheeks and pricked at the back of her neck.
I am to marry someone befitting my station, Tom. Surely you know my father intends me only for someone worthy.
How she’d hated those words. Marcus had helped her write them, after he’d somehow discovered one of Tom’s love notes to her. But she’d delivered them. And she’d broken his heart. She’d been so young, so desperate not to have her father learn the truth. It might have cost Tom, and his entire family, their livelihood.
It had cost her everything.
She swallowed that bitter memory and fixed her gaze on him.
“I think we both know that while we are in the shadow of this establishment neither of us are in danger of being forced to marry,” she said. “I will not spoil your suit of Miss Fairfax.”
“It is not Miss Fairfax I am trying to win.”
“You spent half the night listening to her with rapt attention,” she said.
“So you noticed me,” he said.