Page 50 of Prince of Scandal

Only then had she been able to daydream about Ashton.

And plot.

“Civilization at last,” said Lady Kingsford as a footman helped her out of the carriage. “Georgiana, you look frightful. I suggest a sponge bath and change of gown. Heaven forbid your betrothed see you like this.”

Georgiana brightened. An interesting idea to add to the list: permanently unkempt hair and crumpled gowns. Rupert would hate that, being so fastidious with his appearance. Even in their foolish coatroom interludes, he had always arranged himself so his clothing remained unwrinkled. “Do not fret, he won’t. I’m going across the way to see if Pippa is home.”

“I think not,” her grandmother began, but Georgiana was already crossing the wide street to the large expanse of grass dotted with trees and shrubs surrounded by iron railings in the center of Hanover Square. Of course, this neatly kept area would never measure up to a meadow, forest, cool lake, or any other natural wonder in the country, but at least it offered some respite from the dull vista of cream stone and red brick townhouses that dominated the square.

Forcing her legs to run, despite how cramped and aching they were after the journey, Georgiana staggered up to the front door of Pippa and Finlay’s townhouse and enthusiastically pounded the brass knocker.

In moments, the door swung open to reveal the Pinehurst butler, his face initially stony before his lips curved into a warm smile. “Lady Georgiana!”

“Good morning, Travers,” she replied sunnily. The butler had proved to be both unshockable and kind in her previous visits here, far more agreeable than anyone at Kingsford House. “We’ve just returned from the country. Is my sister at home?”

“She is indeed. Actually, both your sisters are here. Her Grace arrived for a visit about a half hour ago with the dear wee babe,” said the butler as he ushered her inside, his delight at having an infant in the house a little too obvious. Poor Pippa. Was everyone studying her belly for changes like it was a new species of plant from some deserted island? She and Finlay had only been wed a month, for God’s sake. But having Lilian here as well was an unexpected boon. Three heads would certainly be better than two for this predicament.

“Wonderful,” Georgiana replied, handing him her rumpled pelisse. “Try not to look at that too much, Travers, it suffers from two days of travel.”

“You must be exhausted,” said the butler, his brow furrowing. “Perhaps some tea and apple tarts to replenish your spirits? The ladies are in the drawing room.”

“Yes please,” said Georgiana as she blew him a kiss, and the man’s ears turned bright red. Then she turned and strolled across the entrance hall to the drawing room. It was easy to see Pippa’s touch in the place, already Pinehurst House seemed brighter and cheerier with new drapes and carpets, and some lovely landscapes on the wall. The previous marquess had preferred rather dark and gloomy paintings, especially grisly battle or biblical scenes. Hopefully Pippa had burned them all.

Bracing herself, she burst into the drawing room and struck the pose of a Greek goddess. “Good morning, I am here to enliven your day. And…and…”

To her horror, the words stuck in her throat and tears spilled down her face. Pippa and Lilian leaped to their feet, near-sprinting over to usher her to the chaise. Baby Amanda lay in a small wooden cradle, and when the infant offered both a gurgle and hand flail in welcome, Georgiana cried harder.

Her sisters sat either side of her, wrapping their arms around her shoulders.

“There now,” said Lilian, rubbing her back. “Tell us what happened.”

“I see no blood on your hands, so assume Grandmother still lives, more’s the pity,” said Pippa. “Two days in a carriage with her is a punishment I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. Tea? Cake?”

“Travers is b-bringing apple t-tarts,” sniffled Georgiana.

“Ha! Of course he is. You recruit to your army of admirers so effortlessly.”

She poked her tongue out at Pippa. “Perhaps if you weren’t such a curmudgeon, you’d have an army, too.”

Pippa harrumphed. “Too busy for that. I have a marquessate to oversee. Besides, Finn loves my brisk, practical nature. I am rewarded for it with romance novels and custom-made pleasure toys.”

Georgiana stared at her shoes. Back in Brundall it had truly seemed as though Ashton liked her just as she was. The way he held her. Protected and pleasured her. Disciplined her, fed her strudel and wine, and made her laugh. But as soon as he knew the truth, he would hate her. How could any man love a woman who had told so many lies?

“Gigi,” said Lilian kindly, “Why don’t you—”

A knock sounded at the door, and Travers bustled in with a fresh tea tray, laden with apple tarts. Just as quickly, he was gone.

Georgiana snatched up a tart and gulped it down in three bites, needing the sugary sustenance for this particular conversation. “I met a gentleman. In Brundall,” she blurted. “And I think…no, I’m fairly sure I’ve fallen in love with him.”

The way her sisters sucked in and released breaths could have launched a ship. Amanda let out a wail.

“Oh my,” said Lilian, as she reached for her daughter then settled the babe on her shoulder.

“Tell us everything,” said Pippa, pushing her spectacles further up her nose. “Immediately.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. For the next hour, Georgiana confessed all about Ashton. Their first meeting. Waltzing in the church hall. The foot race. Orgasms and picnics in the riverside dwelling. Being rescued from her impromptu Yare bath. Her first spanking. The extraordinary afternoon on his library desk. But then receiving Pippa’s letter, swiftly followed by the arrival of Grandmother, Papa, Xavier, and Rupert.

“Grandmother had ordered Papa to secure a special license,” Georgiana finished. “She wanted me wed right there in Brundall. But I persuaded Papa that I simply must have a wedding with all the trimmings at St. George’s. To read the banns. So I have three weeks to extract myself from this debacle.”