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She paused at the door and looked back at him, standing before the fire, every line of his naked, powerful body taut with anger. It seemed hecouldlose control. All it had taken was her.
“You’re very entitled for a bastard, Mr. Murphy.”
His fingers clenched at his sides. “Leo.”
“I don’t think so.” Her fingers shook and she hid them in the fabric of her cloak. “My marker has been fulfilled.”
“Georgie—”
She fled out the door, nearly tripping over her skirts in her haste to be away, and pulled the knob, slamming the heavy wood behind her. Taking a breath, Georgina looked down at her slippers, trying to decide how she could leave Elysium without being seen, and ran right into a wall.
Smith.
Elysium’s massive doorman was standing guard outside Leo’s office. Barely older than Georgina, Smith was built like a small mountain, with massive arms and a lilt in his voice she’d never been able to place, though to her ears, everyone in London had an accent.
“My lady. Apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He dipped his chin. “I’m to take you out the back, thru the gardens to your carriage. Discreetly. Mr. Murphy’s instructions.”
Georgina took in the overly large doorman, the broad shoulders and heavily muscled forearms. As an escort through Elysium, Smith was probably a good one for a woman who was bundled up in her cloak, hair falling from the hasty bun at the back of her neck. Smith probably escorted Leo’s paramours from the club often. The thought made her stomach curdle. “Thank you.”
She glanced back at the closed door, feeling Leo behind it. The inclination to return to him was very strong, almost overriding her common sense. But she turned back to Smith, commanding herself to move forward.
Smith led her down the carpeted hall, stopping abruptly and pushing softly with the palm of his hand against a stretch of wall. A door, cleverly hidden like the one in Leo’s office, swung open enough for Smith to step through. Picking up a lamp just inside, Smith paused to light the wick and gestured for Georgina to follow him.
She took a cautious step forward. Elysium, Welles had once told her, was riddled with secret staircases, hallways, and hidden rooms. Under different circumstances, Georgina would have adored exploring.
“Watch your step, my lady.”
She followed closely behind Smith, wondering if there were spiders or other vermin trapped in these walls, but she could see nothing except the circle of light around the hulking form ahead of her. Within moments, they emerged into a courtyard. Dawn was fast approaching, the misty gray of the horizon giving way to pale pink. She needed to get home. Masterson probably hadn’t even noticed her absence, but Georgina was already a pariah to her neighbors, several of whom she suspected shared her whereabouts with Masterson’s nephew. Harold always seemed to know when she was home or had gone out. Georgina had taken a hack to Elysium for that very reason—to remain unnoticed.
Oily unease settled in her stomach as she thought of Harold.
A carriage sat idling, not Georgina’s own but a sleeker conveyance.
“Mr. Murphy’s driver will take you home, my lady.”
“I can take a hack if you’ll find me one.” Leo’s carriage bore no identification; still, she didn’t want to risk it. “Far more discreet.”
Smith clearly didn’t care for her suggestion, nonetheless, he walked around the corner, disappearing for several minutes. He returned with a nondescript carriage behind him, waving her forward.
“Thank you, Smith.”
He placed her in the hack with a nod. She heard him mumble directions to her house to the driver.
Herhouse. The London town home of Lord Masterson wasn’t her home. Given her husband was very close to impoverishment, she wondered if her father would welcome her back to New York. According to her sister’s last letter, the scandal involving Winbow wasn’t completely forgotten. Penance was a lengthy affair, it seemed. She was doomed to stay in this cold, dreary city with no friends for some time.
As the carriage rumbled through the quiet city, her thoughts were on Leo and everything that had passed between them. Part of Georgina refused to accept the most meaningful night of her life had meant nothing to him. Thatshemeant nothing to him.
Pressing her face to the window, hollowness took hold within her.
Or perhaps she was merely the reckless, foolish girl she’d always been.
