Page 76 of Scandal’s Daughter

Vauxhall’s famous muslin thin ham and a vast array of cheeses and salads were presented and would usually have pleased her greatly. But she could hardly do it justice, though she tried her best to cover her distress.

It was a sore trial to have to smile and pretend to be amused when her thoughts were snarled around her wicked uncle and his despicable plans to control or ruin her.

After supper they returned to the paths to wander back to the Chinese Pavilion to await the fireworks.

Florence paused for a moment with her brother at one of the stalls to look over some pretty silk fans, but too lost in her own thoughts to stand still, Georgiana continued, albeit at a slow enough pace that they could catch her up with ease.

She was startled then to be approached by a tall, well build man of older years. He was dressed as a Harlequin but the eyes behind the colourful mask were knowing. He had the look of a libertine, once handsome and charming, but now rather jaded and a trifle shabby.

“Miss Bomford,” he said, bowing and giving her a smile she did not find reassuring in the least.

“I do not know you, Sir,” she replied, and made to return to Lord Nibley and his sister but her way was blocked as the man moved to stop her.

“Oh, but I know you, and I bear you a message from your uncle, the baron.”

He raised his hand, and between his finger and thumb he held a lock of red hair.

“Just a little reminder for you,” he said with a sneer. “And you may be sure, I remember every particular of our intimate rendezvous, as I have always been blessed with a remarkable imagination.”

Georgiana gasped and took a hurried step backward. “Get away from me, you vile creature.”

She was given the benefit of a theatrical bow and the man stepped away.

“Until we meet again, Miss Bomford,” he said, his voice loud as he melded back into the crowd.

Georgiana stood trembling.

Oh God, oh what was she to do?

She looked around, alarmed as she felt a cold hand touch her arm. A scruffy looking street boy of perhaps eleven stood staring at her, his brown eyes frank.

“You Miss Bomford?” he demanded, scratching at his thick dirty hair with one hand.

“Y--es,” she replied, her tone cautious.

“This is for you then.” He thrust a small white card into her hand and ran away before she could ask him anything further.

Her tension left her all at once as she read, His Grace, The Duke of Sindalton, embossed on the fine white card. She turned it over to read the words, my carriage awaits you on Kennington Lane. I will make all good with Nibley. Hurry. S x

Sparing a last, backwards glance towards Lord Nibley and his sister and hoping Sebastian could find a way that they would forgive her rudeness, she ran down the gravelled path towards Kennington Lane.