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10

Leo studied Georgina as she played faro for the better part of the evening, careful to stay out of her line of sight. His eyes lingered over the generous curves he longed to touch. The cascade of curls springing about her temples like bits of spun gold. She would smell of spring. Wildflowers. The burgundy gown she wore tonight suited her much more than black widow’s weeds, or any of the other dull colors society dictated she wear. Thetonwas still gossiping about the gown she’d chosen for that silly garden party Georgina had hosted at Beechwood Court.

The only part of tonight’s ensemble Leodidn’tapprove of was the near spill of her breasts over the edge of her bodice. The neckline dipped so low, Leo imagined any male close to her could see Georgina’s nipples.

Punishment. Meant to remind Leo with every glance in Georgina’s direction of what he’d so carelessly tossed aside. He gripped the banister, jealousy biting at his skin. It wasn’t the least bit amusing to have every gentleman at Elysium ogle what belonged to Leo.

A snarl left him. Pushing her away all those months ago had done little to banish Georgina from his thoughts. Leo no longer thought himself remotely noble for having “saved” her from him. He despised himself for wounding her. The terrible ache her absence caused had started as a hole that widened to a gaping maw within his chest.

Some mornings, Leo woke up with the scent of spring in his nostrils, hoping that when he opened his eyes, Georgina would be beside him, only to find himself alone. His fingers would stretch across the sheets, searching for her warmth.

Such a dream would put Leo in an incredibly foul mood for the remainder of the day.

Jesus, just go to her.

Words roared at him by his brother, who had inexplicably allowed himself to fall in love. Tony had nearly lost Maggie and the child she carried because of his refusal to let go of the past. It had been Leo who insisted his brother was a bloody idiot if he didn’t go after his wife. What was to be gained by allowing your past to dictate your future?

Take your own bloody advice, Leo.

Leo looked back out over the gaming floor, watching the light catch on Georgina’s hair.

When Georgina had fled London to spend her mourning period in the country, Leo had rejoiced. The temptation of her would be gone. He needed only to immerse himself in Elysium and the arms of the scores of available women in London. The series of brief affairs Leo engaged in, with any blonde, bold, voluptuous female he could find, hadn’t lasted. None of the women spoke with a flat American accent or dared to insult his waistcoats. His cock knew the difference. He hadn’t even bothered to bed the last woman.

Months had gone by. An agonizing amount of time. Leo had calculated down to the last second how long Georgina had been gone. Ten months, six days, three hours, and thirty-six minutes.

When she’d finally returned, Georgina had avoided Leo as if he were a beggar covered in pox sores. Whenever Leo approached her at Elysium under the guise of speaking to his brother or one of his staff,because he bloody well couldn’t stay away from her, Georgina lifted her chin in that stubborn manner he adored before strolling away in the opposite direction. If absolutely forced to, she would permit him to greet her politely. But nothing more. Very few words had thus far been exchanged.

He’d spent quite a lot of time convincing himself he was relieved Georgina kept her distance.

One event, Leo knew, could change a person’s life forever. The death of Tony’s mother, for instance, had altered the course of Leo’s existence.

But he hadn’t thought fucking one slightly improper American girl would affect him so much that he would no longer find any other woman appealing. Leo’s gaze was always drawn to Georgina, the shiny bauble he wanted above all others. In the last few weeks, especially after hearing about that ridiculous garden party, Leo had considered storming into Beechwood Court, which washisbloody house by the way, and just dragging her into bed.

After that, Leo wasn’t completely sure what would happen.

His eyes traced the delicate line of Georgina’s stubborn jaw as she studied her hand of cards. Her head tilted, and she smiled up at Larkin.

Leo gritted his teeth. Now he was jealous of a bloody pickpocket.

Her chin dipped as a wash of sadness crossed her lovely features. The emotion hovered about her slender shoulders and coffee-colored eyes, as it had since her return. Outwardly, Georgina appeared unchanged by her sojourn in the country, but Leo knew better. He wondered if he was the cause of her sorrow or if it was something else. Surely, she didn’t grieve Masterson.

A gentleman dressed in bottle green crossed the busy floor below, caught sight of Georgina at the faro table, and changed direction, heading toward the empty seat next to her.

Masterson’ s nephew.

Harold strutted through Elysium as if he were royalty instead of merely an earl of little importance. He continued to swill expensive brandy and play hazard poorly, more like his dead uncle than anyone would have thought. The idiot had no idea how close he was to impoverishment. How soon, he wouldn’t be able to afford an expensive coat. Possibly not even a valet.

Leo still held the previous Lord Masterson’s markers. Not out of respect for Masterson. Or his bloody nephew.

But forher. Georgina.

There would be no duns beating at Georgina’s door demanding payment.

The only reason Leo had kept Beechwood Court was so Georgina wouldalwayshave a place of her own. She might never speak to him again, but Leo had still given her an obscene sum, deposited into her account monthly and to be managed by her solicitor. Mr. Lind was paid very well not to disclose the source of Georgina’s wealth or the true ownership of Beechwood Court but to allow Georgina to believe Masterson had given her both. Leo told no one what he’d done. Not even Tony.

His eyes flicked to Harold, who took a seat next to Georgina.

Larkin, manning the faro table, looked toward the second-floor landing and, when he didn’t see Leo, nodded to Peckham, who was wandering about the floor.

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