Page 1 of Prince of Scandal

CHAPTER 1

Kingsford House, London, March 1816

As it turned out, a woman could not perish of humiliation.

Even when she really, really wanted to.

In the luxurious yet stifling confines of her father’s library, Lady Georgiana Nash kept her chin high, even though embarrassment and shame and fury churned inside her. As a noted ton beauty with curly blond hair, emerald-green eyes, and a voluptuous figure, not to mention a tendency to be bold and outspoken, she was very familiar with judgment. Young ladies who attempted to forge their own path were always seen as a grave threat.

But this was different. She’d blundered spectacularly…and it was a mess entirely of her own making.

Desperate to flee her grandmother’s spiteful cruelty, and still two years away from reaching her majority, marriage was her only way out. So when Major Lord Rupert Osbourne—a much older baron from a distinguished family—promised a ring if she lifted her gown for him, she’d done so. The hasty, uncomfortable, and decidedly unromantic interludes in coatrooms hadn’t been enjoyable, but Georgiana had gritted her teeth, sure that a gentleman would keep his word. Until the day they were caught and her world imploded. For the first time ever, she’d personally experienced how vicious society could be. How it felt to be mocked and declared unfit for polite company. Far worse, rather than standing by her, or marrying her to end the nonsense, bloody damned Rupert had fled to France.

She’d had to face everything alone. Including this excruciating family meeting.

“Gigi sweetheart…I…ah…well, this is quite a pickle, isn’t it?” mumbled the Earl of Kingsford, her amiable and utterly weak sire. As usual, Papa was befuddled at her behavior and yearning for someone else to take command of the situation. A truth her entire nineteen years on this earth.

“Do be quiet, Kingsford,” snapped his mother the Dowager Countess, matriarch, human icicle, and malevolent society dragon. “All your coddling led us to this shameful point. I told you Georgiana should be caned like her sisters and brother, but you said no and indulged her willfulness. Her impudence. Her recklessness. Said she was just high spirited like her late mother. But Georgiana is wicked. And now known across London as a harlot who fornicates in coatrooms! I cannot bear the shame. The disgrace she has brought upon the hallowed Nash name. You must disown her immediately. Cast her out. It is the only way forward.”

Georgiana flinched, her gaze swiftly travelling to the other adults in the room for their reaction. Her oldest sister, Lilian, Duchess of Exton, and Lilian’s husband, Gabriel, both gave her pitying looks. Her other sister, Pippa, Marchioness of Pinehurst, and Pippa’s husband Finlay, just appeared acutely disappointed in her.

Bloody hell.

Abruptly, blond, blue-eyed Pippa adjusted her spectacles and sat forward. “For heaven’s sake, Grandmother. Cease your theatrics.”

On another occasion, Georgiana might have smiled in gratitude, but it would be a wasted effort today. Pippa was cross, and for good reason. Her sister had warned against continuing to meet Rupert, saying he was a cad, at fifty years of age literally old enough to be her father, and they would be caught.

All true.

“Theatrics?” replied Grandmother stonily as she smoothed her gray silk gown, the only color she wore apart from lilac. “The heir to the Kingsford earldom has galloped off to the continent to hunt down and demand satisfaction from an experienced soldier! What if Northam is killed? The title will revert to the crown!”

Misery curled around Georgiana’s heart and squeezed. Pippa’s twin Xavier, Viscount Northam, had done exactly that. If anything happened to him, she would never forgive herself. “Grandmother—”

“Do not speak, Georgiana. You have no right. I’ll always wonder why your mother insisted on a fourth child after she finally birthed an heir. What a hideous mistake you were.”

She flinched again at the familiar barb, which hurt every time. But now it clawed at her soul, because she’d been played for a fool by an absolute cretin. Yes, Rupert had seemed settled and steadfast, possessing a curt manner that compelled her to obey. But he’d rarely been kind and disliked affection, pushing her away if she attempted to cuddle. Physically, he wasn’t especially handsome; his hair a touch too gray, his cheeks often flushed, his stature much shorter and slenderer than she preferred. However, none of that would have mattered if Rupert had kept his word and wed her, pleasured her properly…and disciplined her with a firm hand.

He knew what she craved, because like a twit, she’d confessed to accidentally witnessing a scandalous act in the Kingsford Park stables: right there in the tack room, a footman with a maid over his lap, spanking her bare bottom and fingering her audibly wet center as he chided her for being a naughty girl. The maid had mewled and begged, calling him sir, and when the footman finally granted her his cock…the ecstasy on her face as she’d orgasmed, followed by sheer contentment as she was tenderly held.

The occasion had stuck in Georgiana’s mind and dominated her dreams for years. But despite all Rupert’s promises—and her provocative behavior to encourage him—she still knew nothing of discipline. Or pleasure and affection, for that matter.

And now she was ruined.

“Grandmother, you mustn’t say such things. Georgiana wasn’t a mistake but a much wished for and entirely beloved child. Like my Amanda,” said blond, blue-eyed Lilian stoutly as she gently patted her sleeping infant’s back.

“I will remain a beacon of truth even when attacked,” replied Lady Kingsford. “But speaking of children…is the family to be further shamed with a bastard? Ask the harlot. Ask her if she’s yet had her menses.”

The library went eerily quiet, and Georgiana gritted her teeth as all eyes fell upon her. Oh God. Just when she thought this situation couldn’t worsen, her grandmother had to bring that up in front of the men present.

Turning, Georgiana gazed longingly out the window overlooking the leafy expanse of Hanover Square. Yes, tearing down a curtain and swinging off the balcony had a very high likelihood of disaster, but it would surely be better than this…

“Don’t even think about it, Gigi,” said Pippa irritably. “There shall be no dramatic window exits for you. This is not a romance novel.”

Georgiana scowled. She hardly needed reminding of that particular fact.

Lilian settled Amanda in a wooden cradle, then cleared her throat. “I hate to ask, but did that man at least have the decency to…ah…prevent pregnancy, Gigi?”

Mortification scorched across her cheekbones. “No. He said it, er, impeded his enjoyment.”