Page 81 of One Night with a Rake

Her mouth gaped for a moment. “Why on earth did you do that?”

“I’d just laid out the house bully and thought one of his friends was coming up the stairs after me,” Nate said. “It was only after I struck him that I realized it was your Mr. Darling.”

“Oh, dear.”

“He’s probably fine.”

“Probably?”

“Well, I expect the tumble down the stairs didn’t do him any favors, but when I stepped over him as I carried you out, he was still breathing.”

Georgette shook her head. “He deserves a rise in his pay for this.”

“I’ll be happy to contribute to it,” Nate said. “Provided he hasn’t sounded the alarm. Surely he wouldn’t. He knows I’d never do you harm.”

Maybe not physically, but her reputation would be in tatters if anyone knew they’d spent a stolen couple hours in bed at his Cheapside flat.

Her parents would be devastated by the scandal. The royal match would be off and it would mean a hasty marriage with Nate. Her mother would find exchanging a royal duke for a second son to be lowering in the extreme. Her father would never call her “Georgie” again.

Worst of all, Nathaniel might profess to love her now, but would his affection withstand being forced into a union he hadn’t offered?

She cringed inwardly. They simply couldn’t be caught in a compromising position.

Which meant she had to make sure they didn’t get into one ever again.

Thirty

Fortunately, both Mercy and Mr. Darling were still at the House of Pleasure when Georgette and Nathaniel arrived. By that time, the footman was sufficiently recovered to make his way down the stairs unassisted and even declared himself fit to ride on the rear of the carriage, clutching the baggage rail as usual.

Georgette wouldn’t hear of it. However, nothing would induce Mr. Darling to ride inside the carriage with his employer and Lord Nathaniel.

“Not that I’m worried about being close enough to you for you to take another swing at me, your lordship, but I’m sure you’ll agree it wouldn’t be fitting for me to ride inside,” Mr. Darling said with a deferential duck of his bandaged head.

Nate took the footman’s side and the driver found himself wedged between Mercy and Mr. Darling all the way back to Yorkingham House. For all the conversation Georgette and Nathaniel indulged in on the trip, the maid and the footman might as well have been in the carriage with them.

Even though they’d made furious love that afternoon, the distance between Georgette and Nate seemed to widen with each turn of the carriage wheels. His profane outburst when she’d offered to pay for the information that would clear him of wrongdoing in France still stung. Nate’s revelation about his time in Whitechapel made her realize she really didn’t know much about the man on the squab next to her.

Getting to know him was as hazardous to her heart as pruning her mother’s runaway roses was to her hands. She never knew when his thorns would prick her. He’d professed to love her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that since that astounding declaration, he’d done everything he could to push her away.

When they came to a stop before Yorkingham House, she couldn’t fault his manners as he handed her down from the carriage. His smoothly correct gait as he matched her narrower stride and the hand resting gently on the small of her back were beyond reproach. But the extreme politeness rang false.

He hunkered behind the social conventions as if they were shields.

As soon as Georgette was inside the massive front door, her mother came swooping down the grand staircase. Her billowing sleeves trailed like bat wings.

“Where on earth have you been, child? Oh, never mind. You’re here and that’s enough for now. Mme. Reynard is waiting in your suite for the final fitting. How could you have forgotten something so absolutely vital?” Lady Yorkingham hurried on, not waiting for a reply. “Really, it is too bad of you, Georgette. She has moved heaven and earth to prepare your gown in record time and—what in the world have you done to that poor bonnet?” Her mother quickly untied the bedraggled ribbons and handed it to the waiting steward. “Humphrey, dispose of this at once. Come along, daughter.”

When Georgette reached the first landing she turned her head to see if Nathaniel was behind her. He’d been such help when she’d decided to defy her mother and order the pale pink gown instead of the red Lady Yorkingham wanted. Of course, he wouldn’t be allowed in her suite while the pins were being plied, but he could certainly soothe her mother’s ruffled feathers in the corridor. He’d helped foment this fashion mutiny. The least he owed her was his support now, when her rebellion was sure to be found out.

All she saw of him was the tail of his greatcoat disappearing through Yorkingham House’s door.

***

“Ah, Lord Nathaniel, welcome.”

Mr. Fortescue Alcock’s butler had been quick to show Nate into his master’s study. The room was cluttered with ledgers and stacks of paper. A globe occupied a place of honor near a tall window, the better for the Member of Parliament to keep track of Britain’s interests around the world. Along with leather-bound books, the shelves were filled with oddments, an engraved plaque from the Duke of Somerville commemorating some service Alcock had rendered His Grace, a brass kaleidoscope on an ornate stand, and on the topmost shelf what appeared to be a stuffed badger. Mr. Alcock rose from his throne-like chair and came around the burled oak desk, hand extended.

Nate did not move to take it.