Page 85 of One Night with a Rake

Nothing in his experience prepared him for setting himself aside like this. He was desperate to see everything made right for Georgette, damn the consequences to himself.

He was losing the woman he loved again. But this time, there was nothing left of him to worry over.

Nate pulled his garrick around his shoulders and turned his back to the wind.

***

“Rise and shine, my lady,” Mercy sang out, cheerful as a cricket.

Georgette pried her eyelids open and then, when Mercy threw back the draperies, squinched them tight again against the glare of light. The sun was a disgustingly low yellow ball on the eastern horizon.

“What are you doing up so early?” she mumbled, covering her face with one of her pillows.

“None o’ that now.” Mercy lifted a corner of the pillow, peeping under the down-filled case at her. “Have ye forgotten what day it is today?”

Georgette had been trying to. She’d pushed the future away with both hands, but it rushed toward her now like a runaway coach and six.

“The ball for the royal duke,” she said flatly.

“Oh, right. I suppose it is, at that,” Mercy said. “But it’s also the Ladies’ Maids’ Ball, remember? I asked ye last week could I have the evening off so Mr. Darling can take me. Do ye mind it now?”

Georgette nodded sleepily.

“So we needs to get ye ready a tad earlier today so’s I can see to meself later. Oh, would ye look at those eyes?” Mercy made tsking noises as she threw the covers back and took Georgette’s hands to urge her up. “A body would never guess ye’ve been abed.”

She very nearly hadn’t been. After tossing about under her coverlet, sometime during the dark hours, Georgette had slipped from her chamber and padded to the guest wing.

Nathaniel’s bed was undisturbed.

She’d settled into the wing chair by his banked fire, waiting for him to return. At some point, she fell into an exhausted light slumber and jerked herself awake when dawn turned the sky a sickly pearl. She managed to return to her own room without discovery, but she nearly bumped into a pair of maids as they slipped into some unused chambers to scrub the hearths. Every room in Yorkingham House must be beyond reproach when a royal duke came calling, whether he’d ever enter the chamber or not.

“Well, I’ve buckets of things to finish afore we’re both ready for this evening’s doings,” Mercy said, “but let’s see what a little witch hazel and a bit of paint will do for that puffiness.”

Mercy poked and prodded and fussed at Georgette, repairing the damage of a sleepless night. After half an hour of Mercy’s ministrations, Georgette looked amazingly bright-eyed, but nothing repaired the confusion in her heart.

Where was Nathaniel? And why did he leave her to face what was coming by herself on this day of all days?

Alone in the dining room, Georgette pushed the buttered eggs and sausages around her plate without bringing the fork to her lips. The room was so empty, the scrape of her fork on china was loud enough to make her cringe.

“Where are my parents?” she asked Mr. Rigsby when he tried to present her with a rack of toast.

Mr. Rigsby’s ears flushed a deep scarlet. “My lord and lady have elected to take a breakfast tray together in my lord’s bedchamber.”

That was unusual enough for even the unflappable Mr. Humphrey, who stood watch over the dining room from the corner, to involuntarily arch a surprised brow.

Evidently her father’s evening at the opera had turned into something much more. Georgette covered a small smile with her napkin. It was about time her parents stopped being strangers with each other.

She was happy for them, but she really could have used their company to divert her thoughts from the coming ball. Though on further reflection, she realized if her mother were there, all she’d be chattering about would be the evening’s festivities.

What she really needed was Nate.

“Has Lord Nathaniel had breakfast?” she asked, hoping he’d returned after she’d given up and made her way back to her chamber.

“No, my lady.” Mr. Humphrey stepped up to refresh her tea. “To my knowledge, Lord Nathaniel did not return to Yorkingham House last night.”

Her belly twisted itself in knots.

He loves me, Georgette reminded herself. He’d practically sung it as they came together in his string bed. But he’d been so distant after that idyllic interlude, and he hadn’t even bothered to tell her good-bye.