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Elysium had become a sort of refuge for her when she wasn’t at Beechwood Court, because of Leo. Now—
Pain pinched at her heart.
There would be no more evenings sipping bourbon while he instructed her on whist. No more comfort to be had from the scent of cheroot and sandalwood. She had a list of insults prepared for his waistcoats which would now go unused. Georgina was terribly lonely in a way she hadn’t expected.
I hadn’t thought I’d miss him nearly so much.
That wasn’t entirely the truth. Missing him was to be expected because Leo meant a great deal to her. Her eyes shut as she stood in the corridor, remembering the look in his eyes as he’d joined his body to hers. He hadn’t been able to hide from her at that moment, no matter the horrible things he’d said later.
“Damn.” Georgina pushed Leo firmly away as she opened her eyes once again and made her way up the stairs to the small parlor she often used for reading or her correspondence. A quick note to the gardener that she did not want her hedges trimmed into the shape of a dog or some other animal was warranted. She sat down at her desk and quickly wrote out her instructions.
“A message from your lover, Georgina? Need to send a prompt reply?”
Georgina’s fingers stilled on the note, then picked up the paper as she turned to meet Harold’s flat, dead eyes. “The gardener, Harold. He’s seducing me over hedges shaped like rabbits. Care to read my reply?”
God, how she hated his eyes.Deep wells of absolute darkness.
Harold’s lip curled. “I really don’t care for your waspish tongue, Georgina.”
“Then perhaps you should avoid speaking directly to me.” She walked swiftly to the door to slide past him, careful to avoid getting too close.
“My uncle may appreciate your insolence, but I do not. Nor will I have any tolerance at all should your lover, whomever he may be, put a bastard in your belly.”
Harold couldn’t possibly know about Leo. No one did. Except possibly Smith who’d stood guard outside Leo’s office and likely heard her screams of pleasure. Masterson hadn’t even been home when she’d returned from Elysium. “How dare you threaten me with your ridiculous accusations. Step aside.” Her skin crawled with revulsion as if she were sidling up next to a snake.
He grabbed her elbow. “Don’t you dare try to usurp me, Georgina.Iam the heir.”
“Yes, as you often remind me.” She wrenched her elbow out of his grasp. “I don’t care about titles, Harold. I never have.”
“Do you think I believe you?” He leaned in. “Your tattered pedigree fairly dictates you’d do anything to raise yourself out of the filthy backwater you were born to and claim one of England’s oldest titles. Rest assured, if you imagine you will bring a cuckoo intothisnest and present it to be my uncle’s, be forewarned. I won’t allow it.”
Stand your ground, Georgie.Grandmother’s words whispered in her ear.
Georgina immediately straightened her spine. “Perhaps I should relate to my husband your concerns so he can address them directly.” Not that Masterson would care or even listen.
He followed her out into the hall, stepping in front of her. “I know you do not share my uncle’s bed.” The black pebbles of his eyes drew down the length of her. “But I’m sure you’ve spread yourself all over London.” He towered over her. “Don’t assume you will outsmart me. I’m far more intelligent than you realize.”
And insane.Why hadn’t she noticed the glimmer of madness in Harold before?
Georgina held herself still, determined not to waver. She glared back at him as he moved away. Pausing just outside the drawing room door, he drawled, “Aren’t you going to rejoin us? Clarissa might be induced to show you how to stitch a bit of linen properly.” Then he disappeared to resume his chess game with Masterson.
She took a deep breath to calm herself. A confrontation with Harold was always unsettling. He loathed her, that much was apparent. Harold coveted his uncle’s title and the fortune he assumed Masterson still had. What would he say if he knew of his uncle’s markers, residing in Leo Murphy’s office?
She gripped the note to the gardener in her hand, wrinkling the paper and smearing her instructions into an inky mess. The letter would need to be rewritten if she didn’t want to end up with a parade of shrubs cut into animals. Georgina turned on her heel, making her way back to the parlor, Harold’s threats still echoing in her ears.
She had no doubt Harold meant every single one.
