Page 55 of Lyon of Least Resistance

“No word shall pass my lips with regards to what you have just told me,” he said. “But I shall demand an apology from Georgiana.”

“Your sister is entitled of her opinion of me, James.”

“Then I would beg you not to think too badly of her.”

“Rest assured, I do not. She’s your sister and I’ll honor that. It must be an unpleasant shock for her to have a woman such as I as mistress of her home, but I shall endeavor to ensure that she’s happy, even if she can never love me as a sister.”

He sighed. “I doubt Georgiana’s capable of love at all.”

Her expression darkened, and she whispered almost inaudibly. “Don’t say that, James. Everyone is capable of love—and everyone deserves to be loved.”

“Well, perhaps not everyone.”

He pulled her close and placed a hand on her hair and caressed it.

“Let me pledge,” he said, “here and now, that what you have told me…I shall never speak of it again. But hear this. For what you have endured, and what you have done, you have nothing but my admiration and respect. And if you need it, I shall defend you until I draw my last breath.”

He kissed her knuckles again.

“This I pledge to you, as I pledged to honor and keep you yesterday. We may not have a roomful of witnesses, but the Almighty is listening, so you must make do with that.”

He heard a footstep and glanced up.

Damn. Had someone overheard?

“Who’s there?” he said. “Show yourself.”

Releasing his wife, he sprinted to the door, but the hall outside was empty.

Then he glanced at the clock on the mantelshelf that showed a quarter to eight.

“I’ll send for Tilly to show you to your chamber,” he said. “I’ll see you at dinner. Unless you’d prefer to take it in your room? I would understand if—”

“No,” she said. “I’ll join you. After all, if I’m Lady Bedford, I should begin to play the part, should I not?”

He bowed before her, then exited the parlor, calling for Mrs. Case. Then he glanced back inside to see his wife had moved to the window, hugging herself, her face wet with tears.

She had spoken of striving to make Georgiana happy—the sister who, in front of the staff, had called her a slut. But would Cordelia ever find happiness herself?

Chapter Fourteen

Cordelia watched in the reflection of the dressing table mirror as Tilly finished fixing her hair. There had been no need, but the young maid was so eager to be of service that Cordelia succumbed.

After all, she was a lady now. In appearance, if nothing else. And the world she now resided in valued appearance and decorum over everything else.

Cordelia rose, and drew in a sharp breath as the world shifted out of focus.

“Lady Bedford, are you all right?”

“Yes, Tilly. I’m just a little…”

Apprehensive? Afraid?

What would the maid think of Cordelia if she confessed her fears?

“…hungry,” Cordelia said at last.

“Mrs. Vaughan will be pleased,” Tilly replied. “She likes to see the plates cleared. Miss Margaret and the master always oblige, but Miss Georgiana has the appetite of a bird…”