Page 73 of Scandal’s Daughter

She paused in the hallway, staring at him with disfavour.

“I’m sorry no one was here to receive you, Uncle,” she replied, keeping her tone polite if icy. “There was a commotion in the kitchens which needed our attention. I’m afraid Lord Falmouth cannot speak to you at present. If you would like to return later, perhaps ...”

“I know damn well Falmouth isn’t here, girl,” he replied with a sneer, his thin lips just as cruel and malicious as she remembered them. “I waited until your guard dog had left the premises, though I never expected to have such luck as to evade the butler and his minions too.” He gave her a callous grin and gestured towards the drawing room. “Shall we ...?”

“I have no wish to further my acquaintance with you, Sir,” Georgiana replied, her heart hammering with unease. “So, I would ask that you leave now.”

The baron snorted and to her horror crossed the hall, grasped her by the wrist and hauled her behind him into the drawing room where he slammed the door shut.

“If you haven’t realised by now, I don’t give a damn what you want, then you have even less brain than I credited you for,” he said, his face full of hatred as she snatched her hand from his grasp and staggered away.

“Say your piece, you brute, and then get out before Falmouth returns. He doesn’t like bullies,” she said, sneering at him in return.

Before she had time to even consider that her words were not well placed before a man she knew inclined to violence, his hand snapped out and struck her face, a stinging blow that had her staggering backwards. She fell onto the sofa behind her, tears of shock and pain blurring her eyes, but before she could scream or cry for help, he had her by the throat, his large hand squeezing just enough to make breathing very hard indeed.

“Listen to me, you little whore. I’ve seen the way you’ve got the men running after you like you’re a bitch on heat, and if you think I’m vacating my home for a tart with no more class than a threepenny upright, you’re sadly out on your reckoning.”

He squeezed a little tighter as Georgiana clawed at his hand to no avail.

“This is the thing you’re going to do. I will send you a message in two days, telling you where and when, and then you will come along like a good girl and marry Mr Rufford.”

He released her and she fell to her knees, gasping as tears fell from her eyes. She hauled in a breath and moved away from him, watching as he stared at her as though she was less than nothing.

“And if I don’t?” she demanded, pulling herself back up onto the sofa, determined that he shouldn’t see her tremble before him, even if her knees were unlikely to carry her from the room if she tried to run from him.

He reached into his pocket and for an appalled and horrifying second, she saw the glint of a knife and thought he meant to kill her.

Instead he grasped hold of her hair, pulling her head cruelly backwards, and cut off one thick ringlet, holding it up in front of her face with triumph in his eyes.

“If you don’t, I’ll make sure every man of the town is given a share of this little token and a fair price to illustrate to anyone who’ll listen about how they spent their nights availing themselves of your pleasures.”

Georgiana gasped and shook her head.

“Please, no! You can keep the house, and the money, I don’t want it. Just leave me be, I beg of you.”

“No,” he replied. “You’re not the kind of woman who leaves well enough alone. Oh, you’re cowed enough for now with my fist in your sights,” he said, his face bearing such malice for her she felt truly afraid.

“But I wouldn’t want you getting the idea you can get the better of me and get back what you believe is yours. No, you’ll do as I say now, or I’ll finish the job of ruining you that your slattern of a mother began.” He strode to the door before pausing and turning back. “You’ll receive my message and you’ll do as you’re bid or face the consequences.”

“I’ll never do as you want,” she exploded, rage overcoming fear as the unfairness of it took a hold of her and put fire in her blood. “You come here, accusing me of being worthless when you’re nothing but a vile bully who uses his fists to force himself on those who can’t fight back. I’ll never put myself further into your power, never!”

He didn’t even blink, his serpentine eyes staring at her with cool disgust.

“Then I’ll ruin you,” he replied, before closing the door in her face.

Georgiana sat trembling, unsure of what to do, of whom to turn to. Her first thought was to run to Lord Falmouth, but he had been to so much trouble on her behalf already and with his Aunt Seymour taken ill too ...

She would have to wait until tomorrow to speak with him. But Sebastian would surely know what to do. In any case she must tell him before such dreadful stories could come to his ears by another means.

It would be quite improper of her to arrive on his doorstep alone; she would have to send a message to ask him to call immediately. But looking at the mantel clock, however, she saw how very late it had grown.

It was almost time to get ready for the masquerade ball where she would see him anyway. She would have to contrive to speak to him privately there and they would think of something.

They had to.