Page 17 of Scandal With A Viscount

“Georgie.”

“I'm tired, Louis.” She didn't slow down. “It's been a long day.”

“It would appear so.” He kept his voice low, as he caught up to her. “You’ll come to my chamber tonight like usual, yes?”

She glanced at him and he saw a glimpse of a pained expression in her eyes, but it was gone just as quickly. Georgie looked around them and then released a small sigh. “Goodnight, Louis.”

She hurried up the stairs without looking back.

He watched her go and told himself it was nothing. They hadn’t exactly slept as much as they should have since the party began. She'd come to his room tonight, the way she had every other night, and he'd ask her what was wrong. And she'd tell him, and then he'd make her forget about Lord Dunblane and whatever history the man thought he had with her.

The idea of playing cards held little appeal. He could drink brandy in his room without having to make polite conversation. So he decided to retire to his chamber. He wanted to be ready when Georgie came to him.

Once inside his room, he filled his glass from the bottle on the desk, unfortunately placed right beside the letter from Max. Then he settled onto the settee doing his best not to count the minutes.

A few hours had passed. The house settled into silence. He’d finished a couple more fingers of his drink.

She hadn’t come.

He told himself she'd fallen asleep. That was the reasonable explanation—she'd said she was tired and she'd meant it. He stared at the door and willed it to open. But it didn't.

Another hour. The fire burned low, and he didn't stoke it. Max's letter sat on the desk taunting him. If Max wanted to kill anyone, it should be that bastard Dunblane.

His mind did the thing he'd been fighting against all day. It put the pieces together.

He knew she’d been with other men.

What if she wasn't in her room at all?

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he couldn't unthink it. There were three doors between his room and hers. How many between hers and wherever Dunblane was staying? Had she walked past Louis's door on her way to someone else's?

He pressed his hands flat against his thighs and held them there to keep himself from breaking down her door to see if she was in her bed.

He pushed his father’s voice out of his thoughts. He’d just shake his head and mock Louis if he could see him now. The late viscount wouldn’t hesitate to call him a fool.

He sat there until the fire died. She never came.

Chapter 7

Georgiana

Georgie hadn't slept. She'd lain in her bed staring at the ceiling while the house went quiet around her, and she'd thought about Louis and how she hadn't gone to him. She couldn't. Not with Dunblane under the same roof, watching her with heated stares that made her skin crawl.

She'd spent years learning the lesson he’d taught her. Since that bastard, she kept a careful distance from every man who tried to get close. And now he was here and saying things to her that made her never want to find herself alone with him.

Louis had asked her who Dunblane was. She'd said no one. The lie had tasted bitter in her mouth, and she was still choking on it. She should have just told him the truth. Not just about Dunblane, but about how she felt.

Dunblane meant nothing to her. But explaining to Louis what he had come to mean to her, that was what she couldn’t do. It was madness and made no sense that she could develop feelings so fast, and she didn’t trust it. She didn’t trust herself to tell the difference between lust and love.

By morning, she'd resolved to avoid both of them. Louis, because she couldn't look at him without wanting to tell him everything. And Dunblane, because being near him made her feel like a foolish miss right out of the school room again, unsure of herself and susceptible to the notions of a charming man.

She dressed and went down to breakfast to sit with her mother, which was its own form of punishment. At least her mother's relentless campaign to see Georgie settled provided a distraction from the wreckage of the rest of her life.

The distraction didn't last.

Dunblane found her after breakfast. She'd been crossing the gallery toward the morning room, alone for the first time that day, when his voice came from behind her.

“Georgiana. I was hoping to catch you without an audience.”