Page 60 of Unmasking the Earl

She returned his gaze sympathetically. Which only made him feel worse.

“Matthews must have been so confused when he came in and saw you just now,” Georgiana said with an amused shake of her head.

“What happened to you after convalescing at the doctor’s house?” Ned asked.

She grew serious again. “I was taken to the home of another friend of Francis, a very nice gentleman called Babcock, whose wife looked after me. No one recognized me—I had lost most of my hair and my eyebrows in the fire—and when my hair grew back, it was white. By the time I was permitted to look in a mirror, the worst of the damage to my face was beginning to scar over. You can imagine my feelings when I first saw my reflection.” She sucked in a breath and dabbed at her tears of memory.

Instantly, Ned was kneeling at her feet, her hand clasped between his. “It must have been terrible for you, my darling. But you will always be beautiful to me, to the rest of the family. You mustn’t believe we would ever think even a fraction less of you.”

“I am but a shadow of my former self,” she said despondently. “When I saw that awful reflection, I knew I needed to become someone new and forget all about the past. I persuaded Francis to find me somewhere quiet where I could live out my days in solitude, tending to my garden, reading my books, and writing my terrible poetry. He argued against my decision—he still wanted to marry me. But I said it was bad enough that one of us must lose all hope of ever going out in the world again. I didn’t want him to be tied to a wife who would only bring him down in society.”

This generosity of spirit was too much. Bitter gall rose in Ned’s throat, and he got to his feet. “You were prepared to set him free, not hold him accountable, even after everything he did to you?”

“It wasn’t his fault,” she insisted.

“It was!” Wycherley may not have deliberately set the fire, but he was still ultimately to blame.

“Ned.” Cassie’s hand was on his arm, but he shook her off.

“You sent your maid away early because you had a tryst with him,” he accused. “That is why you were doing your own hair, and why the accident happened. Wycherley has made you pay a terrible price for loving him.”

He clenched his fists as his anger grew and threatened to spill over. Wycherley was still his enemy.

There was only one way to deal with an enemy.

Destroy him.

He strode toward the door.

“Ned, where are you going? We have so much to talk about!” Georgiana’s voice was full of alarm.

“I’m going to find that man and make him pay for what he has done to you. For what he has done to us.”

“Ned, don’t. You’re too angry to think clearly.” Cassie stepped in front of him, trying to block his way. He shook his head, lifted her up, and placed her behind him.

“Cassie, I need to do this.”

She pushed past him again, placed herself squarely against the kitchen door, and faced him down, her elfin chin tilted and determined. Before he could stop her, she had locked the door and dropped the key down the bodice of her gown.

He blinked. And gaped.

And his thoughts instantly galloped off in another direction entirely.

Her cheeks pinked as she watched his face, and her lip trembled slightly. He remembered the feel of those lips against his, the soft silk of her breast beneath his hand, and the emotion in his heart when he’d made her his own.

His anger ebbed away somewhat.

“Do you think that an effective deterrent, Miss Blythe?” he inquired gruffly. “What’s to stop me reaching in and retrieving that key?”

Her eyes widened, and Georgiana coughed.

“But no, that would distract me too much from my purpose, as I’m sure you know. So in the interest of haste, if you don’t give it to me, I’ll just tip you upside down and shake you until it falls out.”

“Ned! For shame!” Georgiana was behind him now, her voice an exact imitation of their old nanny.

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and took a deep, shaky breath. “God in heaven, I have been unmanned and out-gunned by two naive chits who actually think I have a conscience. Well, let me tell you, I don’t care nearly as much about propriety as I used to. So, Miss Blythe, that key is most definitely not as safe as you might imagine.”

“As it’s my key,” Georgiana said archly, “I think I may be the best judge of when to use it, so perhaps Miss Blythe would be prepared to relinquish it into my keeping?”