Page 77 of Scandal’s Daughter

Chapter 31

“Wherein desperation plays its hand.”

Her relief was overwhelming when she saw the tall figure in the black silk domino and mask. One of the footmen wearing the familiar Sindalton black and gold livery stood by the open door of the carriage and she wasted no time in accepting a black gloved hand to help her in.

Once inside the plush confines of the town carriage she let out a sigh of relief as Sebastian climbed in after her and wasted no time in pulling her into a passionate kiss.

Georgiana melted into him, for although her mind was all at sixes and sevens the chance to be in his arms again was not to be overlooked lightly. Yet as his skilled hands skimmed her sides and pulled her closer, she felt a frisson of unease. His lips were warm and soft, tender and yet passionate but ...

She pulled away from him, looking up into a face all in shadows.

“Sebastian?” she said, not knowing why she had voiced his name as a question, only that something was wrong.

“Come, darling Eve,” said a silky and familiar voice. “Surely you can tell the difference between his kiss and mine.”

A sudden slant of moonlight lit the carriage and fell upon a pair of glittering blue eyes behind the mask.

“Beau!” His name burst from her in horror as she gave a little shriek of alarm and pushed him away. “What is this?” she demanded.

“This is desperation, my sweet temptress,” he replied, a note of apology in his voice. “I’m at point non-plus and I’ve nowhere left to run but France, and I never did learn the blasted language well enough for that.”

“You’ve run mad!” she gasped, reaching over and trying the carriage door and finding it secured. “What ridiculous plan have you formed, you wretch? I demand you rethink before this goes too far. I’m in the devil of a fix already without you adding to it you ... you black-hearted fiend!”

“Oh, come now, Eve,” he said, his voice soothing. “It’s not so very black as that. I promise I won’t be a cruel husband. You’ll need never fear me or think I’d be a tyrant, for I would have you be happy.”

“Happy? Good God! Beau, you don’t understand. Sebastian has offered for me and I’ve accepted. If you do this now, he’ll never forgive you. Neither will I, come to that!” She raged, as her mind ran in circles, wondering what on earth she could do. She didn’t believe Beau would ever hurt her, but as he removed the masquerade mask, there was indeed a glint of desperation in those usually cool eyes.

He had stilled at the news of Sebastian’s proposal though.

“Well, I’ve wronged him then. He loves you more than he fears his mother’s death or madness. I’m surprised, I’ll admit. But it changes nothing,” he replied, dashing all the hopes that Georgiana had clung to as he’d begun to speak.

“It changes everything!” she cried, begging him to understand. “Beau, he’s your best friend, and I love him - with all my heart. I will only make you miserable if we marry, for I will hate you for this until the day I die.”

Beau sat back against the plush interior of what she assumed must be his carriage. The door had been opened ready as she approached and so she had never noticed that the door bore the crest of the Marquess of Beaumont, not the Duke of Sindalton. She assumed the acquisition of a footman’s uniform was hardly beyond his scheming either.

“You won’t hate me, Eve,” he said, his voice bleak. “Oh, I’ve no doubt you’ll despise me for a good while, and perhaps you’ll never love me. But your heart is too kind and too open for so black an emotion. Hatred takes a deal of energy and the single-minded kind of devotion that takes more devilry than this to nurture for any length of time. Believe me, I know. You don’t have it in you. You’ll grow used to me in time, and I promise you I’ll do my best to make it sooner. I can be very charming you see, when I put my mind to the task.”

“He’ll kill you,” she said, her voice now trembling with rage, but Beau just shook his head again, his long fingers untying the deceptive black and scarlet domino as he cast the silky material aside. “What and throw you headlong into another scandal. I think not.”

“He’ll certainly never forgive you!” she shouted, thumping the thick carriage cushions in fury. “How can you, Beau? He’s your friend!”

Beau gave a bitter laugh and fixed her with his blue eyes.

“He was my friend. Until he attacked me at White’s. I knew then things had gone too far. He wanted to kill me then, sure enough. But I’d told him my intentions. I’d been clear from the outset and he’d not had the balls to make his move. Too caught up in the sorrows and shame of people long dead to move forward and take what he wanted. To do what you needed him to!” he returned, his voice equally angry now. “Well I’m done playing fair. It’s this or I run. I know now I’d never live long enough to see the inside of the Marshalsea even if I chose to bear the shame of it, and I’ve never run from anything in my life. I don’t intend to start now.”

“How much do you owe?” she said suddenly. “What amount would clear your debts?”

“Twenty thousand pounds,” he replied without flinching. “A pretty penny, don’t you think? Enough that five very unpleasant fellows bundled me into a back alley yesterday and held a knife to my throat. They made themselves very clear, I assure you. I could pay up within the next fourteen days or I could die.”

“Oh, Beau!” she exclaimed, moved to pity him despite the situation. “I’ll give you the money. Stop this nonsense now. Take me back to Vauxhall and I’ll never breathe a word of this to Sebastian. I swear he’ll never know. I’ll get the money to you.”

Beau laughed and shook his head. “You don’t get control of the money until you marry, love.”

“But I’m under age!” she shouted, suddenly aware that she held a trump card. “You need my uncle’s permission and bearing in mind he’s blackmailing me into marrying his brother-in-law, I doubt he’d agree!”

“What’s this?” he demanded, sitting up straighter.

“I’m under age ...” she repeated.