Page 61 of Prince of Scandal

“Indeed,” she said crisply, staring him down like the magnificent woman she was.

Ashton shifted restlessly in his chair. It was becoming harder and harder to remain silent, to not leap up and shake the duke until the information spilled from his lips. But with such a brief, fragile truce in place, he couldn’t ruin this. Not when they were so damned close to turning him onto the right path. If they could get Lansbury on their side, there was a chance that Osbourne could be stopped.

The duke shook his head, but now there was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You’re incorrigible, Lady Georgiana, just like my Ginny was. Very well, I’ll tell you. They couldn’t touch her dowry; that was tied up in numerous legal knots for the benefit of their children. But I did gift her five hundred pounds per month to start. Then upped it to a thousand when her health expenses rose.”

Once again, Ashton exchanged a glance with Georgiana. Osbourne had indeed started his extortion scheme with Virginia! Christ knew what he’d said to her to get the amount increased.

“How long did you pay a thousand for?” asked Georgiana, very, very gently. “Did you perhaps cease the allowance before Lady Virginia passed?”

“Three months,” said the duke irritably. “But all the tonics and treatments and whatnot weren’t doing a blasted thing. My wife was concerned, said Ginny was getting herself in a state and needed rest, not more elixirs poured down her throat or physicians poking and prodding. So I stopped. Should have been sooner. Those damned tonics killed her! Wait. Why did you ask me that?”

“There were no elixirs or physicians,” said Georgiana. “Only funds going to Rupert.”

“We know this,” said Ashton, unable to remain silent a second more in the face of such information, “because Lady Georgiana and I were just in the office of Mr. Benjamin Carr. The father of Dorothy Carr, Osbourne’s third wife. Dorothy was distressed she wasn’t falling pregnant, so Mr. Carr gave her two thousand each month for health expenses…until he stopped due to a shipping mishap. Dorothy allegedly drowned in her bathtub not long after. Her maid took her own life in grief. Allegedly.”

Lansbury went gray. “Surely not. A coincidence…?”

“Except once he learned I had feelings for Lady Georgiana, Osbourne demanded five thousand pounds per month from me. And insisted I stay away from London. Only then, would his fourth wife remain unharmed.”

The duke rubbed a hand across his face. “Hell and damnation. Fuck. Patterns…you swear everything you just told me is true? That if I went to Carr he would confirm the story? Because if you are lying to me, I will send you back to Berlin piece by piece.”

“I swear on my mother’s soul,” said Georgiana fiercely. “You have been directing your hatred at the wrong man, and the wrong cause of death, for over a decade.”

“Then it appears,” said Lansbury, “that we have a villain in our midst. A cunning, amoral, murderous villain with an unquenchable desire for money and no qualms how he gets it…damn him to the depths of hell. My Ginny. I will see Osbourne suffer for what he’s done…”

Ashton and Georgiana both remained quiet as one of the premier dukes of the realm, known for his icy composure and arrogance in all situations, appeared on the verge of smashing furniture or bursting into tears. But then Lansbury exhaled harshly, seeming to collect himself.

“I’ll make discreet enquiries,” the duke continued crisply. “Please allow me a few days. I know some former exploring officers…spies…with a talent for finding out information that others wish to keep concealed. Such as Osbourne’s military record and any incidents that may have been quashed. Also where he goes, known associates, that sort of thing. I believe it best that I undertake this task rather than you, Your Highness. Or Lady Georgiana. Especially if she is his next intended wife. Osbourne must believe all is well, that everything is proceeding to plan.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” said Ashton, relief actually making him feel dizzy. With Lansbury’s power and connections in English society and politics, he could make things happen. No one would ever pat his head and tell him to go to the seaside for a month. Finally, there might be justice for Virginia and Candace and Dorothy. “I am staying in Wigmore Street; the townhouse is in a friend’s name for discretion. Sir Alan Dunmore. I must add that Mr. Carr of Carr Fabrics in Cheapside is equally eager to offer any assistance or resources required. In his daughter’s name.”

Lansbury nodded and rose to his feet, a look of ruthless determination on his face. “I will be in touch directly. Your Highness…I regret…that is…I hope we can put the past behind us.”

Ashton inclined his head as he also stood. Rather conciliatory from a man who’d probably never apologized in his life. “We’d appreciate it, Your Grace. And I believe a man’s actions in times of extreme distress do not define him forever. Good day.”

“Good day. And to you, Lady Georgiana. Stay safe, now.”

Georgiana stood and curtsied. “I shall. Just promise me, Your Grace, that no woman will ever have to worry about Rupert again.”

“I promise.”

* * *

I don’t want to be here.

Georgiana gritted her teeth as she tip-toed across the entrance hall toward the stairs, eager to avoid a confrontation with her grandmother.

Leaving Ashton had been a terrible wrench; it always felt wrong now, and not even a lingering kiss or large slice of Franz’s strudel had made her feel better. But there was only so long she could pretend to be out shopping, and going to Cheapside then back to St. James’s Square had probably taken more time than was wise.

Now she’d learned even more about Rupert’s history with women, her mind swung between horror and revulsion at her own poor judgement. How did anyone reconcile the fact that they’d been intimate with a man who could well be a murderer? And she had to continue pretending all was well when even the sight of him made her want to run him through with a letter opener.

Please, please, please let me get my menses. Immediately.

“Georgiana! Where have you been?”

She froze as Grandmother appeared at the parlor door, her face frigid with disapproval. In a gray gown, a diamond necklace winking discreetly at her neck, the dowager countess truly did resemble an iceberg.

“Shopping,” Georgiana replied shortly. Liars were caught out when they provided too much detail; she needed to keep this as vague as possible.